An Affair of Hearts

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

~April 22~

Elizabeth didn’t even remember how she’d gotten to bed that night. She awoke the following morning with the muscles in her stomach sore from heaving the previous night. She had absolutely no desire to bestir from her bed, not that morning nor any morning. She just wanted to stay where she was in the soft, comforting warmth, but something, she realized, had woken her.

A moment later her bedroom door was thrown open with such force it banged against the opposite wall.

“My God, Elizabeth, are you all right?” her brother strode into the room, followed by her stepson, Paul.

“Let her sleep,” Paul was saying, but clearly Edward had no intention of listening to him.

She reluctantly pulled herself upright, dragging the covers over her shoulders. “I’m fine,” she told her older brother. He perched on the edge of her bed, his deep blue eyes looking so worried for her.

“We just heard. It was Rogan, wasn’t it?” Edward said, placing a gentle hand on her cheek and looking at her closely as if checking for bruises. To be honest, she didn’t yet know if she had any.

His concern only made her tear up once again. She could only nod for fear of truly beginning to cry once again.

“I should have shot him when I had the chance,” Paul growled. Elizabeth suspected he was referring to her first encounter with Lord Rogan at Lady Sorrell’s soirée the previous month.

“I missed the opportunity as well and now regret it,” her brother said from the foot of the bed, running his fingers through his straight black hair in agitation.

“That man has no shame,” Paul said.

“No intelligence more like,” Edward added.

The two men looked at each other, one fair and tall, the other dark and broad, both able to be terrifying and intimidating in his own way, and nodded. “We’ll have to decide who gets the honor of killing him,” Paul said.

Elizabeth took in a deep calming breath. The men’s indignation gave her the strength she wished she’d had the previous evening. “Neither one of you will kill him because it would kill me and the Kendrick twins to lose either one of you,” she said, thinking of the two girls who were engaged or about to be engaged to the two dearest men in Elizabeth’s life.

They both were silent at that bit of wisdom.

On a thought, she added, “If you, either of you, call him out, it will be made more public than if we just left it alone. My reputation is already tenuous, don’t harm it any more than necessary.” She paused and looked from one man to the other. “Please.”

“Then we go on as if it never happened? Who else was there?” Edward asked, clearly not liking this.

Elizabeth thought back, but all she could remember was Lydia, Mrs. Aldridge, and vaguely some gentleman assisting her to her coach. She had no idea who he’d been, so she simply said, “I only remember Lady Welles and Mrs. Aldridge.”

“Good. They won’t spread a false word about you,” Paul said. “In fact, I have no worries at all about it staying within our own private circle. None of our friends would say a word against you or spread the tale outside of the group.”

“Is that how you heard?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes. Mrs. Aldridge stopped by to check on how you were doing. St. Vincent and I were together in the breakfast parlor when she came in,” Elizabeth’s brother said.

“She might still be here—we did rather run out on her,” Paul admitted sheepishly.

“Oh, dear! Please check would you, and I’ll be down as quickly as I can. I do want to thank her,” Elizabeth said.

The men nodded and left together to see to the lady, and so Elizabeth could get up and dressed.

She was horrified to find bruising on her ribs and a horrible red mark on her shoulder where Lord Rogan had been suckling at her. She dressed in her most conservative morning gown, a plain gray dress with almost no adornment and then added a fichu to hide her shoulder.

~*~

Mrs. Aldridge was enjoying a cup of tea and the men’s company when Elizabeth joined them in the breakfast room twenty minutes later.

“My dear Lady St. Vincent,” Mrs. Aldridge said, immediately rising upon Elizabeth’s entrance. She stepped forward and took her hands, her forehead scrunching in concern. “How are you, my dear?”

“Thank you so much for coming, ma’am. I’m doing better,” Elizabeth said, giving her hands a squeeze.

“Can you eat? You must have some nourishment,” the lady said, indicating that Elizabeth join them at the table as if she were the hostess instead of the other way around.

“Thank you. I’ll have a piece of toast. I think that’s all I’ll be able to stomach just now,” Elizabeth said.

“Add a boiled egg to that. You must have something a little more substantial, my dear, it will stand you in good stead,” the woman said. She was so wonderfully motherly; Elizabeth just wanted to reach out and hug her.

She shared a look with her brother, who was laughing silently, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly with his mirth. “Mrs. Aldridge, you are an absolute dear,” Edward said. “Our own mother was never so concerned for my sister’s health as you are.”

“What? Oh, I don’t believe that for a moment, Lord Conway,” the lady said, resuming her seat. “I’m sure she just showed it in a different way. Every mother is concerned for her children.” She tsked her tongue.

“Mrs. Aldridge was just telling us all about the Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society. In truth, I never realized how much those ladies have done,” Paul said, resuming his seat as well. He never failed to stand when a lady entered the room. Edward did so for other women, but never Elizabeth, which just made her laugh.

“I must admit, when I joined the group, I never expected to be part of such an influential group of ladies. To be honest, I thought we would play cards, nothing more,” Mrs. Aldridge said, the lower of her double chins wobbling with the titter of laughter that followed.

“Do you know what their stakes are when they play cards?” Edward asked Elizabeth with a twinkle sparkling from his brilliant blue eyes.

“No,” Elizabeth said, sitting back while the footman placed a plate with a sliced boiled egg and the toast rack in front of her. She reached for the butter as she looked to Mrs. Aldridge.

The lady giggled and leaned forward. “We play for secrets!”

“Secrets?” Elizabeth echoed.

“Yes. We all have secrets, of course. If you lose two games and have the lowest number of points, you must divulge a secret to the group,” the lady explained.

“What sort of secrets?” Paul asked.

The lady laughed again. “Well now, that would be telling, wouldn’t it? No, no, not one word, not one hint of anyone’s secret is allowed outside of the group. And don’t even ask, for I won’t tell you who has, so far, divulged their secrets.”

“No wonder it’s such an exclusive group,” Elizabeth commented after clearing her mouth with a sip of tea.

“Oh, yes. We certainly couldn’t let just anyone in,” the lady agreed, her chin set to wobbling again as she nodded her head vigorously.

Elizabeth had just taken another bite of her egg and toast when the door burst open and her son, Matthew, came running in.

“Mama, Mama!” the tow-haired little boy shouted. He threw himself onto Elizabeth who, if she hadn’t dropped her toast and made a grab for the four-year-old, would have bashed his head on the table.

“Matthew, what have I said about shouting in the house?” Elizabeth said, reprimanding him.

His governess came panting into the room. “I am so sorry, my lady, he…he’s much too fast for me. I just can’t make it down the stairs as quickly as he can. I swear he must skip half the treads.”

“It’s all right, Mrs. Smithy. I don’t quite know how he does it either, but he can certainly move more quickly than one would suppose for someone so small.” Elizabeth pushed her chair back and lifted the child into her lap.

“Oooh, neg!” the boy said, his eyes alighting on her plate. He reached out and picked a piece of egg off her toast and stuffed it into his mouth.

“Don’t you feed the child, Elizabeth?” Edward asked with a laugh as he watched his nephew make short work of the rest of Elizabeth’s breakfast.

“He most certainly has eaten, my lord,” his governess responded.

“But he’s a growing boy,” Elizabeth finished.

“A bottomless pit, more like,” Paul added with a laugh. “I think he eats more than I do.” He reached over from his place at the head of the table to ruffle Matthew’s hair.

The boy giggled. “I’m growing!” he exclaimed. “I’m gonna be bigger dan you, Paul.”

“Yes, I believe you are,” said Elizabeth’s stepson, giving his little step-brother a smile. Elizabeth looked from one to the other, awed at the family resemblance despite being from two different mothers. Her husband had thought it a matter of course that both of his sons would take after him, although he had been a little surprised that Matthew had gotten Elizabeth’s blue eyes rather than his own, which were green.

“I didn’t know you had a son, Lady St. Vincent,” Mrs. Aldridge said, looking fondly at the child. “How old is he?”

“I’m four!” Matthew answered before Elizabeth could even open her mouth. He held out four little egg-dusted fingers just to be sure she understood. Elizabeth reached out and grabbed the little hand with her napkin and wiped it clean.

“Four years old? Oh my! You are a big boy, aren’t you?” the lady said, laughing.

“I’m gonna be bigger than my brodder!” Matthew informed her.

Mrs. Aldridge looked over at Paul and then back to Matthew. “Well, in that case you’d better eat up because you’ve got a lot of growing to do!”

Dutifully, the child reached out and took the rest of Elizabeth’s toast and started nibbling away at it.

Mrs. Aldridge laughed again, clearly delighted with the child. “He is a dear!”

“He is a minx!” Edward corrected.

Matthew looked over at his uncle. “What a minx?” he asked around a mouthful of bread.

“It’s someone who is impolite and speaks with his mouth full,” Elizabeth said.

He turned and looked up at her but didn’t say anything until he’d chewed and swallowed. “No, it’s not, Mama. You just made that up.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Elizabeth said with mock horror.

“No, you would never lie to me, Mama. I love you.” He rested his cheek against her bosom, and it was all Elizabeth could do to hold on to the joy and love in her heart.

“And I love you, my sweet boy,” Elizabeth said, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Now, is there a reason you absolutely had to see me this morning, or did you just want to steal my breakfast?”

He giggled. “I wanted to steal your breaffast. I was hungry and Mrs. Smithy wanted me to learn my letters.”

“You should learn your letters, that’s very important, but you should also have enough to eat,” Elizabeth told him. She looked up at the governess, who was looking fondly at the child.

“If I’d known he was hungry, I would certainly have called for more food, my lady,” the woman said as soon as she realized her employer was looking at her.

“I’m sure you would have. Why don’t you take Matthew downstairs to the kitchen and see if the cook has another egg for my bottomless little pit.”

Matthew climbed down from her lap, saying, “I wanna napple.”

“All right. I’m sure Cook has an apple for you if she hasn’t put them all into a pie for dinner,” Mrs. Smithy said, taking the child’s hand.

“Pie? I want pie! I want pie!” Matthew said, jumping up and down.

“Pie is for dinner. Let’s see if we can find you an apple and then back to your letters,” the woman said gently as they left the room.

“He is absolutely adorable!” Mrs. Aldridge sighed as the door closed behind them. She turned back to Elizabeth. “I can see now why it is so vitally important that you reestablish your good name as soon as you can. You can’t have that sweet little boy growing up…”

“He will never know his mother ever had such a reputation,” Elizabeth said with a certainty she wished she felt.

Mrs. Aldridge nodded her agreement. “Lord St. Vincent informed me that you are going to attempt to pretend as if last night’s attack never happened.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said, reaching for another piece of toast since Matthew had eaten hers.

“I think that is very wise, my dear. You want to avoid any talk and actively suppress any gossip if possible. Were you planning on making calls today?” the lady asked.

“Yes. I was thinking of going to Lady Hartfell’s at-home,” Elizabeth said.

Mrs. Aldridge nodded. “An excellent choice. She is well-connected and kind. Rarely do you hear an unpleasant word from the lady. And I believe her own garden party will be coming up shortly, won’t it?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t know. I haven’t received an invitation if it is.”

“Hmmm, no, neither have I,” Mrs. Aldridge said. “Perhaps it’s later in the season.”

“That would make sense if it’s a garden party, to wait until it’s a little warmer,” Edward commented.

“Yes, yes, it would,” the lady said, nodding again. “Well, if you’d like, I can join you on your visit,” she said, turning back to Elizabeth.

“That would be very kind of you, ma’am, but you needn’t put yourself—”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. To be honest, I was thinking of going myself, so it really makes sense for us to go together. And, well, I don’t know how much clout I hold in society—probably very little indeed—but it couldn’t hurt to have me by your side, now could it?” Mrs. Aldridge said.

“I think it’s a brilliant idea,” Paul said, giving them both an encouraging smile.