Chapter 7
"Lord Ashcombe does appear to be more of a help than either of us anticipated."
Eliza smiled softly and nodded, reaching for her cup of tea. "He is, yes." Having reflected on the previous afternoon's meeting for some time, she had all manner of thoughts and considerations — some of which she was doing her best to forget.
Her aunt sighed, a half-finished piece of needlepoint in her hands. "I am sorry that there has been a lack of invitations of late, Eliza. That has been disappointing to see."
"It is not your fault, Aunt." Eliza lifted her shoulders and then let them fall, hoping that her aunt would not take on responsibility that was not her own to bear. "Neither is it mine, but Lord Ashcombe was correct in what he said of society's reaction to the news of my inheritance, was he not?"
Lady Newark grimaced. "Unfortunately, he was." Her lips pursed. "I did not anticipate that we would be seated here of an evening, entirely alone and without company at the height of the London Season. I was quite sure you would have all manner of events and occasions to attend."
"But if I find out the connection between myself and Lady Warrington and the ton is shown it, then their imagined reasons for such a boon will be struck into smithereens and I shall be exonerated of all supposed shame," Eliza replied, trying to find a confidence within herself that so often appeared elusive.
"Lord Ashcombe's help has proven invaluable thus far, and we have only been speaking of this for less than a sennight.
There is hope and comfort in that, is there not? "
This brought a gentling to the scowl on her aunt's face, making Eliza smile. She was grateful for her aunt's ongoing support and encouragement, and even her upset over society's treatment of Eliza was a balm to her wounds.
"That is true, certainly." Lady Newark paused, a needle hovering over the fabric as she looked back at Eliza. "And you still cannot remember who introduced you to Lady Warrington? It was not your father?"
Eliza shook her head, her lips flattening as her own frustrations returned.
She had spent much of the day writing down everything she could remember about her meeting with Lady Warrington, but much of it had been a blurred, distant memory that she could not bring clearly to mind.
She had been young, certainly, with hopes and dreams of a Season of her own, of a debut that would lead to a joyous future with a husband of her own.
Lady Warrington, older, elegant and almost regal in the way she carried herself had been kindness itself, and Eliza could remember almost every word of their introduction to one another.
Yet, she could not remember who it was that had brought her to Lady Warrington, who it had been that had made the correct introductions.
The only thing Eliza knew for certain was that it had not been her father for he, no doubt, would have made some sort of foolish remark which would have stuck fast in her mind as a shadow upon that afternoon.
"Do you remember where it was?"
"A garden of some description," Eliza replied, sitting back in her chair and allowing herself to slump, weariness overcoming her body and her mind. "It was a beautifully sunny afternoon. If I remember rightly, it was the gardens of a manor house — but not Lady Warrington's home, I am sure of that."
"Oh?"
Hearing the unspoken question as to how she could be so certain, Eliza smiled ruefully. "I recall every word spoken of my conversation with Lady Warrington, and she told me how glad she was to have been invited to such a fine occasion."
"But no faces are there beside you."
"None that I can recall clearly."
Her aunt shook her head. "That is frustrating indeed." She jabbed her needle into the fabric, her eyes narrowing on the thread as she pulled it through. "Can you remember anyone else present that day? Is there anyone we are acquainted with that you would remember as being there?"
This was not something that Eliza had given any thought to whatsoever, having centered her thoughts solely upon Lady Warrington. "I do not know. Let me take a few moments to think."
The silence that followed allowed Eliza to close her eyes and place herself back in that very garden, seeing the sunshine and practically smelling the scent of the roses as they carried through the air.
Steadying herself, she took in long, steady breaths and tried to bring to mind any others that had been there.
Her eyes popped open. "Lord and Lady Hargreaves."
Her aunt's smile was big and bright. "You remember them being there also?"
"I do. Lord Graves also, I believe, for I recall him coming to speak with Lady Warrington and he, in fact, drew her away from me and brought the conversation to a close." She paused, the memory sharpening. "And Sarah was there, I think."
"And if Lady Sarah was present, then her own mother and father must have been also."
Eliza looked back at her aunt, a thrill running up her spine. "Yes, that is so."
"I am still well acquainted with Lord and Lady Hargreaves," her aunt said, setting her needlepoint aside and rising to her feet.
"They are not inclined towards gossip, so you need not fear that they will reject you, Eliza.
I will write to them this very moment — even though it is late — and ask if we might come to call very soon.
I am certain they will be glad to accept us. "
With relief and hope cresting like a wave in her heart, Eliza clasped her hands together at her heart.
Closing her eyes, she set her head back and sent up a silent prayer that this meeting, somehow, would reveal to her the truth of her connection to Lady Warrington so that the whole matter could come to an end — and she could return fully to society once more.
"I thank you for allowing us to come to call."
Eliza smiled as her aunt spoke, having found Lord and Lady Hargreaves pleasant in their welcome of her, which given her present rejection from society as a whole, was a welcome relief.
"Oh, but I am very glad that you did so," Lady Hargreaves replied, as she set out the tea. "We have heard some strange things about your niece, Letitia, but I have told Hargreaves that none of it is to be believed."
A breath of relief dropped Eliza's shoulders. "I am deeply appreciative of that trust, Lady Hargreaves."
The older lady smiled at her whilst her husband — a quiet, imposing figure with sharp, calculating eyes — said nothing.
"We both are aware that gossip runs rife through London," Lady Hargreaves said sympathetically. "Might I ask, however, if there is any truth to what has been said? Rumors usually begin at the well of truth."
Eliza glanced at her aunt, who nodded. "I am to receive an inheritance from Lady Warrington," she said, "but I must first find the reason for her consideration of me.
There is a connection that has yet to be uncovered, and it is my duty to discover it.
Then, and only then, shall I receive what she has granted me. "
"I see." Lady Hargreaves clicked her tongue, her eyebrows tugging together.
"That seems somewhat unfair, given that you are not related to the lady in any way.
It does also turn society against you, does it not?
They have immediately come up with all manner of fabrications as to why you have been so singled out. "
Lady Newark nodded fervently. "Yes, indeed they have. Lady Warrington, however, is the reason that we came to call."
Lord Hargreaves harrumphed, catching everyone's attention. "If it is because you think we might be able to offer you an answer, Miss Fairleigh, I am afraid you will be gravely disappointed."
Eliza forced a smile, finding the man's low voice and considered gaze somewhat unsettling.
"No, indeed, Lord Hargreaves." Another look to her aunt told her she should continue.
"As I have set my mind to finding out why Lady Warrington has blessed me in such a manner, it was suggested that I try to recall who it was who introduced me to the lady.
I am afraid my mind has not done as well as I might have hoped in this, however, for whilst I can recall the occasion and the meeting itself, I do not remember who brought me to meet her.
However," she continued, barely pausing for breath, "my aunt suggested that I should think of who else might have been present. "
"Which is when she mentioned you," Lady Newark interjected, gesturing to Lady Hargreaves. "Might you be able to recall? I understand it was many years ago, but perhaps you would still remember?"
Lady Hargreaves began to nod slowly, lines between her eyebrows as she considered, offering Eliza a faint whisper of hope. It certainly looked as though the lady remembered something, but whether or not it would be beneficial, Eliza could not yet say.
"I do believe I have some recollection," she said, her gaze flicking to her husband, who only shrugged.
"Lady Warrington was a very dear friend of mine for a long time, and I had many an enjoyable afternoon with her.
On that occasion, if I remember rightly, it was an afternoon picnic we had been invited to — Lord Lyme's estate, I believe. "
Eliza's eyebrows lifted. "The Marquess of Lyme is situated less than a day's ride from my father's estate."
"Then that must have been the occasion, I am sure of it, for he would have invited all the local gentry," Lady Hargreaves replied, her gaze centering on Eliza now.
"Yes, now that I remember it, the details are returning to me.
" Her eyebrows lifted as memories came to her.
"Yes, yes, I recall now. It was a Lord Graves who introduced you to Lady Warrington — and that was only after she requested specifically to be introduced to you. "
"Lord Graves?" Eliza's heart quickened. "Do you think that he might know something more about Lady Warrington's interest in me?"