Chapter 8
A Remarkable Intention
Lizzie sat on her bed in the room she had shared with Anna.
It was still her bedroom, but there was no comfort to be had in the two matching beds, the rose-and-white print walls, or the old bureau where she and Anna had stood together, morning after morning, unbraiding their hair.
The familiar surroundings almost felt like a prison now, a prison of her own making.
She hugged her knees to her chest while Ned scrambled about the floor, exploring his new environment under Lizzie’s watchful eye. Her chest ached.
What should she do now? She had the terrible feeling that she and Ned were not welcome at Raven Hall.
Tyrell’s handsome image came to mind and, with it, the unwanted thought that he would help her if she went to him.
She bit her lip hard, drawing blood, tears finally falling.
Her family was furious with her, furious and dismayed, and even Georgie was against her now. And she would never approach Tyrell.
There was always Glen Barry; there was always the house on Merrion Square.
Lizzie hugged her knees more tightly, afraid that her welcome with her aunt had been worn out some time ago. She had no means, no income. Dear God, if she wasn’t welcome at home, she might be out on the streets like a vagabond.
A soft knock sounded on her door.
Lizzie stiffened. “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Georgie said, opening the door. She did not move to come inside, her expression tightly arranged into one of anguish, hurt and even some anger.
Lizzie started to cry.
Georgie stood as stiffly as a soldier. Tears also came to her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Lizzie shook her head, incapable of speech, brushing the moisture from her eyes.
“I thought we were close. But you did not tell me of the most monumental event of your life—and you told Anna!” Georgie cried from the room’s threshold.
Lizzie finally pulled herself together. Self-pity would not serve her or her son now. “I was going to tell you in Dublin.” That was the truth. “But you refused to come, Georgie. And even you must see that I could not share such news in a letter. What if Mama had found it?”
Georgie came inside, closing the door behind her. She glanced at Ned once, some of the strain in her expression easing. “I should have gone to Aunt Eleanor’s with you and Anna! Then I would have helped! I love you so! I would do anything for you!” she cried.
Lizzie launched herself to her feet and ran to her sister, embracing her. Georgie’s body was rigid, but as Lizzie held her, murmuring, “I never meant to hurt you,” she began to soften.
“I know,” Georgie whispered as the two sisters parted. “Forgive me for thinking of myself now, Lizzie. I cannot begin to imagine what you have gone through!”
“We were terrified,” Lizzie said “We did not even know if Aunt Eleanor would allow us entrance—much less to stay after she learned the truth. Georgie, I need you now, as much as I ever have. I am so afraid. Mama will never forgive me and Papa is so angry. I have never seen him like this! I do not think I am welcome here. Forgive me if I have wronged you, as that was never my intent. Please, help me and my son now.”
Georgie gasped, seizing her hand. “Lizzie, this is your home. No one will cast you out.” Their gazes locked before Georgie glanced at Ned. “And he is a Fitzgerald. They will come around. They need time. This has been a huge shock.”
Lizzie nodded, desperately hoping that Georgie was right and very uncertain of that. Exhausted, she sank down on the foot of the bed. “What do I do now?”
“Let the crisis pass,” Georgie said. She knelt before Ned. “Hello. I am Auntie Georgie.”
Ned had found one of the shoes Lizzie had discarded and had been inspecting it with great care, but he met Georgina’s gaze with a bright smile. “Ned,” he announced, banging the shoe on the floor as if it were a gavel. “Ned!”
Georgie began to smile. “Yes, you are Ned and I am Auntie Georgie.”
Ned’s smile disappeared and he stared very seriously at her.
“He is trying to understand,” Lizzie explained.
“He has such remarkable blue eyes,” Georgie breathed. “Auntie Georgie,” she declared.
“Gee,” he said with authority. “Gee!” he shouted, dropping the shoe and clapping his hands.
“My clever boy,” Lizzie whispered with pride.
“He is very clever,” Georgie agreed, standing. “I cannot get over the shock,” she said, staring very closely now.
Lizzie had the most uncomfortable feeling that she was referring to the shock of Ned’s paternity. She slipped to her feet. “As you said, the crisis will pass.”
Georgie gripped her arm, stalling her. “Liz. Is Tyrell de Warenne the father?”
Lizzie was instantly dizzy. She had never expected anyone to guess the truth when she came home with Ned, but her sister had done precisely that—within minutes of glimpsing Ned. If Georgie so easily saw Tyrell in Ned, would someone else, too?
“Don’t do this!” she cried, trembling.
“I am hardly a fool. Ned doesn’t look like you, not at all. And how many Black Irishmen do we know? Especially when you have been in love with Tyrell de Warenne your entire life.”
The cooper was a swarthy “black” Irishman, Lizzie thought in dismay, but she did not point out such a foolish thing. “Is it so terribly obvious?”
“It is obvious to me, knowing your history as I do. He is so dark, his eyes are the de Warenne blue!” Georgie said.
Lizzie sat back down. “If he ever learns the truth, he will take him away from me! Georgie, I will deny it. Ned is mine.” And Lizzie was afraid that her lie was already becoming undone.
Georgie laid her hand on her shoulder. “I know he will never marry beneath him. There are rumors of an impending engagement to a very wealthy English heiress from a powerful Whig family. You are right. He would take Ned away from you.” There was a question in her eyes.
Lizzie looked away.
Georgie touched her arm. “Was it that night on All Hallow’s Eve? You said you did not tryst with him.”
Lizzie inhaled. “I can’t, Georgie. I cannot ever discuss this subject.” She hesitated and looked up, adding, “It is far too painful.” She would not lie to her sister again. Fortunately, once in a great while, she could be as determined as Georgie.
Georgie scrutinized her. “So you really plan to keep his child from him? You will raise Ned alone?”
Georgie had yet to remark upon the fact that Ned was being denied his birthright—a fact that was haunting Lizzie even more now that she was at home and so close to Adare. Lizzie wet her lips. “One day, when he is closer to his majority, I will reveal the truth.”
Georgie seemed to accept that. “Maybe Tyrell won’t have any other male heirs,” she finally said, “making Ned’s acceptance that much easier.”
“I know it will be another crisis, but I must manage one day at a time.”
Georgie put her arm around her. “Of course you must. And I want to help.”
“Thank you,” Lizzie whispered. She tried not to be a fool and give into the painful hurting in her breast. “So, he is about to become engaged?”
“That is the rumor. It is all over Limerick. The lady in question might be the daughter of Viscount Harrington.”
Lizzie closed her eyes. Even she, as politically unaware as she was, knew of the powerful Lord Harrington.
He had been on the Privy Council at one time and he remained the chairman of the House of Lords.
He was a very wealthy, prominent Englishman.
If the rumors were true, the match would be a highly advantageous one for the de Warenne family.
Georgie said, “Lizzie, you have known all along he is not for you—”
“I know! Georgie, it will be for the best if he marries and has more children. I want him to be happy,” she managed to say.
Georgie smiled sadly. Then she said, “Of course you do.”
Several days later, the household had not recovered from the crisis.
Mama remained in her rooms, apparently too melancholy to come downstairs.
Papa brooded in his study and was oddly quiet at meals.
It was as if someone had died and the household was in mourning, Eleanor commented, a remark which did not alleviate Lizzie’s anxiety or dispel her somber mood.
Georgie tried to be amusing and was wonderful with Ned, but that did not help.
No one, not even Eleanor, could encourage Mama to come downstairs. Papa seemed not to care.
Lizzie was on edge, terribly so. For the past year, she had tried very hard not to think about what would happen when she brought Ned home.
She had tried to tell herself, when she did dare to contemplate the future, that it would somehow work out.
Now she had to face how deeply she had hurt her parents—and it was only the beginning.
If her parents were so shocked, how would their acquaintances react?
Lizzie was afraid the scandal would be even worse than she had dared to imagine.
It was Lady O’Dell who called first. Lizzie was in the parlor with Eleanor, Georgie and Ned when the handsome black carriage drove up.
Lady O’Dell was a good friend of Mama’s and she had always been kind to Lizzie—although she had never cared for Anna.
But then, her own daughter, Helen, who was rather pretty, had never had as much attention as Anna, and Lady O’Dell had always resented it.
She had been one of the women to call Anna “wild” behind her back.
Lizzie peered out of the window as Lady O’Dell alighted from the carriage. Ned was asleep in a bassinet and Eleanor was at the card table where she had been playing gin rummy with Georgie. Her stomach turned unpleasantly as she watched Mama’s friend approach.
Georgie joined her at the window. “It is Lady O’Dell! What do you want to do?” She quickly faced Lizzie, her features tense.
Lizzie did not hesitate, even though she felt ill. “I think I have little choice. After all, she will learn I am a fallen woman sooner or later. Perhaps it’s best to get this over with.”