"But you want the tax increase as much as he, and you're willing to champion the soldiers' widows and families."
"But you forget, I have already earned the respect of my peers. I've been working with them untiringly since the day I came into my majority and won my seat. I have worked long and hard to get to where I am now. And you must know my ambitions are high."
"Everyone knows you will be Chancellor of the Exchequer before you're thirty."
A smile crossed his face. "I don't know about that, but were that to occur, I would have achieved the pinnacle of success."
She nodded at Lady Susan Robinson, who was seated beside a slender young man driving a curricle coming from the opposite direction. "Back to my education. . . Now that I can intelligently converse on Adam Smith, what book should I read next?"
"Edmund Burke makes for thoughtful reading. You've already read Paine, have you not?"
"Paine was short and sweet and rather brilliant." She wondered if her husband admired Thomas Paine. It was difficult to fathom anyone who was not swayed by the man's ideas. "But Burke it will be next."
"I hope you'll express to Aldridge my gratitude for allowing me to host my colleagues at your house. I thought the evening a great success."
"Indeed it was. Now Philip has decided to host one for select members of the House of Lords."
"Very wise of him to do so, and might I suggest that his sister, Lady Clair, be permitted to sit at the table. She is a great contributor to the discussions. And it never hurts to have one who's pretty to look at. I didn't remember her being as lovely as she was the night of the dinner."
Elizabeth preferred not to elaborate on the measures that had been taken to render Clair more attractive. "I daresay you only notice her beauty more now that her hair has been shorn in the fashionable style."
"That's it! It becomes her."
They went on to discuss the next dinner, the one she and Philip would host. "No one, not even you or my brother, works harder than my husband." As important a function as Richie held in government, he was never too busy to take her to the park. She must own that, unlike her husband and brother, Richie's duties never began until the House of Commons assembled for the evening.
Her husband had never escorted her to Almack's or to Hyde Park since they had wed. Even Haverstock sometimes pried himself away from his duties to take Anna for a drive in the park.
Elizabeth wished Philip cherished her as Haverstock loved Anna. Ever since Anna had lost the babe and plunged into deep melancholy, her husband pampered her more than ever.
In her grave disappointment, Elizabeth was driving a wedge into the fragile bond that had united her to Philip. Since he had betrayed her by reneging on his promise to help the widows, she had avoided any intimacy with him. For the past two nights they had not slept together. For the past two mornings and late evenings, she had failed to initiate those amiable little conversations they had been conducting to apprise one another of the day’s occurrences.
She felt as if she stood alone on the Salisbury Plain, watching the man she loved walking away far in the distance and knowing the separation was her fault.
How had it come to this? How foolish she was to sacrifice her marriage because of hurt feelings. He would never understand that it was not his failure to support the widows that crushed Elizabeth so; it was his failure to support his wife.
Any hope she’d had of being his Lady Wickshire had been trampled.
“While I prefer Brook’s, I went to White's last night and saw your husband there.”
His words were like a slap in her face. She rounded at him, her brows lowered. “At what time was that?”
“I was there at nine, and he’d been there for a good while, judging from his . . . consumption of brandy.”
Her heart sank. Philip had declined to escort his sisters—and his wife—to Almack’s the previous night, owing to the lateness of sessions at the House of Lords.
“Was my husband wooing his colleagues from the House of Lords?” She strove for casualness in her voice.
“A few perhaps.”
“The Lords, I take it, were sitting at the time?”
He nodded gravely.
Now added to Philip's betrayal and their subsequent estrangement was a retching disappointment. Had she imbued Philip with qualities he did not possess? She would have staked everything she possessed on her husband’s nobility of character.
How could it be that he had failed to attend last night's session at the House of Lords?
"I wanted to bring up another topic with you," he said. "Your brother's refusal to take a stand on the tax increase is beginning to harm our cause. More than one member has asked me how my cousin stands on the issue, and Aldridge has also been asked about his brother-in-law's stand on the tax."
"I do wish Haverstock would voice his opinion. My brother is one of the most influential men in London."
Richie nodded. "Everyone respects Haverstock enormously."
She swelled with pride toward her brother, who'd had an uphill battle to earn respect after their father had alienated half of the
ton
. "I shall speak to him, but before I do, I'll speak to Anna. He tells her everything."
If only Philip and I were as close.
It took two hours just to drive along the park's central lane because of the congestion of conveyances. There were two-person barouches, four-person barouches, cabriolets, curricles, and many other manners of transport. The halting progress afforded them a great many opportunities to exchange pleasantries with many of their acquaintances. She even got a glimpse of Belle Evans riding along in a grand barouche with the elderly Duke of Queensberry, who was unquestionably the most profligate man in the British Isles. Elizabeth felt compelled to stare at her. Until their eyes met, and the courtesan stiffened and looked away.
Elizabeth found herself, not for the first time, wondering if Belle had ever been in love with Philip.
When they finally left the park, Elizabeth told Richie to deposit her at Haverstock House. "I have not seen Anna much of late."
"You're not exhausted?"
"Of course I'm exhausted. My mouth feels frozen from all the forced smiling I've done the past two hours, but I miss being with Anna."
"I thought at their dinner that night she seemed to have recovered from her loss."
"That was all for my brother's benefit. She knows how frightfully he worries about her."
Richie's brows scrunched together. "You think she still mourns the lost babe?"
Elizabeth nodded. "I think, too, she despairs that she will never again find herself breeding. A year has passed, and she does not appear to be fertile."
The very idea that Elizabeth herself could be carrying Philip's babe caused a fluttering—and an altogether wondrous sensation—in Elizabeth's breast.
"I heard the babe they lost was a son." Richie's voice was somber.
Elizabeth nodded gravely. "Anna told me it would have been less painful had it been a girl. The way it was, she felt as if she had denied her husband his heir."
"Why in the devil is she blaming herself?"
"We've all encouraged her not to. To no avail."
"I suppose it was even more painful that Lydia and Morgie bred with such ease."
"Anna vows she's happy for them. Indeed, she adores the babe."
"Aw, your grace, we have arrived at your former home."
* * *
She let herself into Haverstock House. It—far more than the opulent Aldridge House—felt like her home. But she supposed that was to be expected, given that she'd lived in this house most of her life. She greeted the servants and began to mount the stairs to the marchioness's study. When she reached it, she tapped on the door, then opened it.
Her gaze went straight to Anna, who slumped in a chair in front of her desk, her face in her hands, her shoulders heaving as she wept.
Elizabeth flew to her. "Whatever is the matter, my dearest? Dear God, has something happened to my brother?"
Anna lifted her face, shaking her head emphatically. Even with her big chocolate eyes watery and red, she was lovely. Her scarlet study was decidedly French, and in her rose-coloured frock, Anna too looked decidedly French. "No, I am just being a goose."
Relief surged through Elizabeth as she lowered herself into a slender gilt chair next to Anna's gilded escritoire, then spoke in a gentle voice. "Allow me to guess. You're dwelling on the lost babe."
Sniffing, Anna nodded solemnly. "I keep hoping to find myself breeding."
"And you will. A woman who has already carried one babe to full term can do so again." It pained Elizabeth to even mention the dead babe poor Anna had given birth to. It was one of the most harrowing experiences ever to befall their family. Anna had been nearly inconsolable, and Haverstock was more melancholy than anyone had ever seen him.
Anna shook her head. "It's been more than a year. I have failed as Charles's marchioness."
"That is
not
true! There's not another woman in the kingdom who could bring Haverstock the happiness you've brought him, not another woman in the entire world he could love as he loves and adores you."
"I will own, my dearest Charles says the same thing, but I know he's disappointed. You cannot know—as I did—how delighted he was to learn I was increasing." Her voice broke off in a sob.
"My brother would not object if his heir was James's child—whenever James settles upon a wife. And family. The brothers are exceedingly close. Believe me when I tell you that the thing Haverstock wants most is your happiness. He's utterly besotted over you. Now I beg that you think happy thoughts."
Anna dabbed at her moist eyes with a lace-edged handkerchief, forced a smile, and spoke with levity. "Don't tell Lyddie, but the little fellow doesn't say a word."
Anna's good-humored mock of Morgie sent them both laughing.
A tap sounded at the marchioness's door and Anna bid the servant to enter.
The butler's gaze went straight to Elizabeth. "I believe you have a caller, your grace. The gentleman asked to see Lady Cynthia."
Only someone away from England last year would still call her Cynthia. Only someone away from the country would have called for her at her
former
home. Good lord, could it be the dashing officer who had broken her heart the previous year? Her stomach churned, her insides trembled. "Pray, what is the gentleman's name?"
"Captain Smythe."
Her hands trembled as she clutched the banister, descending the stairway. When she reached the door of the saloon where the Captain awaited, her chest tightened.
He stood when she entered. What a striking man he was in his bright red regimental coat that stretched across his broad shoulders. Everything about him bespoke power and precision. The hilt of his sword, the epaulets, the cording and buttons—every bit of it gilded with perfection and not the slightest evidence of tarnish to be found.
She was powerless not to run her eye over him. His dark handsomeness had not diminished in the least. He was tall and well formed with a noble face and confident countenance.
It suddenly occurred to her how much the Captain resembled her husband. Since Philip had been in Italy when Elizabeth came out, it now seemed obvious she had transferred to Captain Smythe all the devotion her brother's good friend, the heir to the Duke of Aldridge, had once inspired in her,.
The Captain looked exactly as he had the last time she had seen him. She easily recalled the way her heartbeat so madly rapped every time she saw him. Whenever his deep voice had lowered when he spoke to her, his every word had sounded like a declaration of affection.
Today, though, there was one noticeable difference. The sight of him no longer sent her into a swoon of adoration. She felt nothing.
He bowed. "You are as lovely as ever, Lady Cynthia."
She curtsied in return, almost imperceptibly nodding. "I no longer use the name Cynthia. I have returned to my birth name of Elizabeth since the death of my namesake, my Aunt Elizabeth. To honor her."
"It will be difficult for me to ever stop thinking of you as Lady Cynthia."
"Actually, I am no longer referred to as
my lady
, either."
He stiffened. If she was not mistaken, his tanned face blanched. His broad fingers coiled around the hilt of his sword. "Pray, do not tell me you've married."
She nodded solemnly. "I am now known as the Duchess of Aldridge."
For the next several seconds the Captain was incapable of speech. "Yet you're here. At your old home. Does that mean Aldridge has returned to Italy?"
Why was it that everyone assumed she was a neglected wife? "Am I not permitted to visit my family?"
"Forgive me. It is just that I am suffering from shock. I knew when I last saw you that I risked losing you by not declaring myself." He sighed. "I should have been better prepared for the announcement of your nuptials and my own disappointment."
That he admitted disappointment offered her some degree of compensation for those months of sleepless nights he had caused her. "One cannot lose something one never had, Captain," she said, her voice icy.
He grimaced. "I deserve that."
Her brows lifted. "Won't you sit?"
Still displaying a dejected manner, he dropped back into the chair he'd been sitting in when she entered. "In Venice I attended many of the same events as the Duke of Aldridge, but we were never introduced. He and a certain Contessa were quite the talk of the town."
Her stomach roiled at the mention of the Contessa Savatini. Oddly, she envied Captain Smythe. How Elizabeth longed to be able to judge whether the Contessa really was the loveliest woman in all of Italy, as everyone said. "How fortunate you were to see Venice. My dear Aldridge has pledged to take me there once we've won this beastly war. You must tell me how the war progresses."
"I came to London to get away from the war. I choose not to speak of it while I am here."
She had never seen him when he did not exude confidence. Until now.