Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
She is a vision.
Hugo watched her from across the room like a hawk. He felt a swell of pride so powerful that it ached, which only made the brandy he swallowed burn hotter.
She was a magnificent, brilliant thing, and he was losing her. He saw the easy way she laughed with the lords in attendance, the gentle way she spoke to the children, even the ones who had caused the chaos.
She could weather any storm, and he was a fool. A miserable, lovelorn fool who had pushed away the one person who could make him feel whole.
The sooner the evening was over and she was out of his house, the better. Yet, the idea pricked him like a hook. He abhorred the contradictions that swelled in his chest.
“I think you could use another one of these,” Aaron said as he approached him with a glass of brandy. “Although I do not think it will pair well with the first course. Rumor has it that Lady Inverhall selected jellied eels.”
“That is more of a working-class meal. I am surprised that my grandmother would allow her to do such a thing.”
“You did not review the menu with her, Your Grace?”
“No,” Hugo uttered as he took a long swig of brandy. “I did not.”
“Monsieur Henri also thought it unusual, from what I heard, until she said that she wished he pair it with smoked butter, fresh herbs, and a decorative arrangement on the plate. Look over there.” Aaron pointed to a passing dish.
“Wow, that does look quite incredible. I cannot believe I am saying that about jellied eel.”
“She is incredible,” Aaron stated in a teasing tone. “But I think you already know that.”
The Dowager Duchess joined them, her gaze also fixed on Elspeth. “Well,” she said, “I must admit, the girl has pluck. And wit. We will see how charitable our guests will be, but they seem to be having the most delightful time. She might just win this competition.”
“She already has,” Hugo mumbled, more to himself than to her.
He tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and guided her to the table, where the three of them sat with Lord and Lady Bardsley and Vicar Tongrew.
Hugo silently thanked Elspeth for pairing them with such pleasant company, where they savored the many courses and enjoyed conversation without issue.
“And how is the matter of getting Lady Inverhall settled going?” Vicar Tongrew asked as he polished off the last of his mutton.
“It seems she will have her pick of London’s eligible bachelors after tonight’s event.
I have never seen this room so well decorated, even during your mother’s tenure, if I may say so, Your Grace. ”
Aaron shot Hugo a look from across the table, an eyebrow arched in a way that made his blood boil.
“It seems that way,” Hugo said as he set down his napkin.
“Indeed, I love the soft light of the tapers on the tables, and the ice sculptures around the room are so splendid. It is positively glowing in here,” Lady Bardsley remarked as she polished off her food. “I must say, I am going to need to be wheeled out of here, husband.”
“I will carry you myself.” Lord Bardsley pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. “It would be my honor.”
“You two could rival any romance novel,” Aaron said with a raise of his glass. “I can only hope to be so lucky one day. Do you not agree, Your Grace?”
“If you will excuse me, I must see to an important matter.”
Hugo stormed out of the grand room to his study. He poured himself another glass of brandy from his decanter and walked to the window, taking a deep breath.
He knew it was cowardly to run off during dinner, but he could not help himself. He needed a moment to steady himself, to remind himself of the most important thing.
My vow.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” Elspeth said, tapping her fork against her champagne flute. “The lads have one last gift for ye all before we ask for yers in return. I will emphasize that every penny donated tonight will go directly to their education and care. They are our future!”
The guests clapped heartily as the boys lined up in the middle of the room. All eyes rose from the plates and conversation and landed on them. The quartet started a soft melody, and in perfect time, John began to sing.
The room fell silent as the guests listened intently.
His voice was smooth, rivaling any tenor Elspeth had heard on stage.
He was even more beautiful than when they had practiced, which was often.
The others joined in, soft and slow as they sang a pleasant song about a soldier and a sailor.
More applause erupted as the song came to an end, a choir that rivaled any church’s.
The boys smiled and waved to the guests before executing polite bows and taking their leave.
“I hope ye will all join me in one last round of applause for our lads, who will now be headin’ back to St. Jude’s for their bedtime.
And now, let us enjoy some digestifs and delightful music as we ask for yer generous donations.
I truly hope ye have enjoyed yer evenin’ thus far.
If ye will raise a glass once more to the lads of St. Jude’s! ”
Every guest in the room raised their glass, and joyous clinks filled the room, the music beginning to swell along with light conversation and laughter. Elspeth began to pass a satchel around the room, which quickly became full of promissory notes and donations for the boys.
I may need to fetch another bag.
She had been so distracted by the evening, so intent on not looking for him, that she saw him everywhere. Even when she blinked her eyes, she could see his shimmering blue irises, his broad shoulders.
He had not once addressed her, nor interacted with her. He might as well not have been there. She watched him, a fleeting glance at the periphery of the room, an aversion of his gaze as soon as her eyes met his.
This success feels meaningless without him. He hasnae come by me side, nae once! And this is his home… I am lucky no one has pointed it out.
She scanned the crowd, her eyes searching for him again. She saw him standing by the large window with the Marquess of Sarford, a stoic sentinel in his own home.
He had made his choice, and he was sticking to it. She would not waste her energy on him, not tonight. She listened as the guests whispered about her success, murmurs of admiration spreading through the room.
She had been so distracted that she had almost forgotten to mingle with her friends.
“Verity! Marion!” she called out when she saw them seated at a table, enjoying cordials.
“I wanted to come see ye, but every time we went to speak with ye, ye were with some important person!” Marion said with a smile. “Ye are the talk of the ton, Elspeth. Ye are a sure winner of this competition. Ye should be so proud.”
“Aye,” Elspeth agreed as she hugged them both.
“Go, mingle with your happy guests,” Verity urged. “This is your night, dear friend. You have earned it.”
“I cannae tell ye how much it means to hear ye say that,” Elspeth said. “Please come see me before ye leave with yer husbands!”
“I do think that Lord Middleby cannot stop staring at you,” Verity noted, tugging on her shoulder and casting a glance in his direction.
He was deep in conversation with a group of ladies Elspeth did not recognize.
“Aye, I have bigger fish to fry,” she said. “If I am lucky, I willnae have to speak with him.”
“Oh, Elspeth.” Marion let out a laugh. “To be so important!”
Elspeth gave a playful wink to her friends before she went to walk around the room again, listening to the conversations of the guests around her.
“Did you see her with those boys? She is a miracle worker,” one said.
Aye, they used to call me a witch. I much prefer Miracle Worker.
“She will have a dozen offers by morning, you mark my words,” another voice whispered. “She will have her pick of the ton!”
A part of her appreciated their kind words, yet she registered none of them. Even as the organizers of the competition counted the donations, she was numb. All she heard was his voice from that morning, cold and final.
“I will never fall in love, you see.”
“It is with great pleasure that I announce,” the Dowager Duchess of Tarwood called over the din, “that Lady Inverhall is the winner of the Benefactress of the Year competition. She has surpassed the frontrunner by fifty percent. We are grateful for your charity and for a most delightful evening. Let us all raise a glass to Lady Inverhall.”
The applause that followed was a distant, meaningless sound. Elspeth had won the competition, but she had lost her heart.
The room dissolved into a cacophony of meaningless noise. The cheers, the clinking of glasses, the Dowager Duchess’s booming voice, all of it faded into a dull roar. The crystal award felt heavy in her hands as they gave it to her, a hollow prize.
Her head spun, the room suddenly feeling too hot, too crowded. She smiled, a brittle, fragile thing, and nodded her thanks.
A passing footman pressed a glass of champagne into her hand, and she took a long sip, the bubbles doing little to settle the turmoil in her chest.
I have done it. I have actually won this bloody competition.
For weeks, she had poured every ounce of her energy into this cause. It had been her purpose, her focus, even more than a way to prove to a cynical society that she was more than just a Scottish woman with a strange past. And she succeeded.
“Congratulations, Lady Inverhall,” a voice said beside her.
It was Lord Middleby.
She turned, her smile stretching thin across her face as fatigue began to set in.
“Lord Middleby,” she returned, her voice a practiced melody of polite indifference. “A most pleasant surprise to see you here.”
He smirked, a glint in his eyes. “It was a most pleasant surprise to see you win. Though I cannot say I am surprised. Your charm is as effective as it is enchanting.”
Elspeth’s stomach churned. She had no time for his brand of flattery. Not now, not ever.
“I thank ye for yer kind words.”
She turned her back to him, scanning the room for Hugo, even though she knew he was not there. The image of him, his face a mask of stone, flashed through her mind.
“I will never fall in love, you see.”
His words echoed in the empty space where her heart used to be.
Verity and Marion found her then, gently pulling her away from Lord Middleby.
“Elspeth, what is it?” Marion whispered, her hand resting on Elspeth’s arm. “You have won! Why are ye nae celebratin’?”
Elspeth shook her head, unable to put her feelings into words.
How can I explain that the victory feels like defeat? That the applause is a cruel reminder of what I had lost, without him here to see it?
“I am so tired,” she mumbled with a forced smile. “Just tired.”
Verity’s face softened with sympathy, as if she could sense she was unable to talk. “Oh, Elspeth. Let us get you out of here. The party is almost over, and the servants will see to the rest.”
Elspeth nodded, the thought of escaping this suffocating room the only thing that held her together.
She placed the heavy award on a nearby table, no longer able to bear its weight. She had won the competition, but what was the point of securing a victory if she had no one to share it with?
As they made their way through the crowd, she caught sight of herself in the large, gilded mirror in the foyer. She looked like a mess. Her smile was gone, her eyes red-rimmed and hollow.
She did not look like a victorious benefactor. She looked like a woman who had just lost everything.
The noise of the ball faded into the night as the three women made their way up to her quarters, opening the windows to let in the cool evening air.
“Aye, that is better, lass,” Marion said warmly. “Let me tell Miss Abby to warm some milk for ye.”
“That would be grand, Marion.”