Chapter 16 A Small Conspiracy #2
“I don’t think Tyrell de Warenne was her first lover, Lizzie. I think the good ladies of Limerick called her wild and vain for a reason. No one flirted more than she did.”
Even though Anna had admitted her sins, the confession had been a private one and Lizzie knew they must not discuss Anna this way. “Anna’s nature is light and carefree and can easily be mistaken for forward behavior,” she said, “when nothing forward was intended.”
“You will never cease defending her, will you? Even when she took Tyrell from you.”
Lizzie looked away. She did not want to discuss that painful past, not ever again.
And Georgie understood. She sighed. “I am sorry. But then, I have always had a small temper and you have always had a charitable and forgiving nature. I shall try to be more like you, Lizzie.”
Wanting to lighten their mood, Lizzie said, “I do not think I am your best role model.” Images of Tyrell as he made love to her came to mind, causing her skin to prickle and tingle.
Georgie looked at her.
Lizzie knew she blushed.
Georgie’s eyes widened with comprehension. “Oh,” she said after a long pause.
Lizzie tried not to smile and failed. “I know that what we are doing is wrong. I don’t want to be so happy when you are so distressed. But Georgie, I do love him so.”
“Oh, my,” Georgie gasped, her eyes remaining huge. Then she cried, “If you can be happy, Lizzie, then seize the moment. No one deserves some happiness more than you.”
Lizzie sat pulling her knees to her chest. “I want you to find some happiness as well. I should hate for you to spend your life in a marriage that is a prison, Georgie.”
She shuddered. “Papa will not help me out of this engagement. I thought I could go through with it for the family’s sake, for our reputation, but I simply cannot stand that man. If Mama will not change her mind, I am going to leave home, convert to Catholicism and join the sisters at St. Mary’s.”
A sudden idea occurred to Lizzie. She seized her sister’s hand. “Georgie, I have a far more simple solution.”
Her sister turned to her, her expression so hopeful that it broke Lizzie’s heart. “You do?”
“Yes, I do. You will come with me to Wicklowe. We are leaving this afternoon. Do not bother to return to Raven Hall for your things—I will have a servant pick up your belongings. You will write both Mama and Papa and Mr. Harold, informing one and all that the engagement is off. And you can stay with me as long as you like.” Lizzie smiled.
“But…how can you offer me such a circumstance? Don’t you have to ask Tyrell?” Georgie gasped, trembling.
Lizzie smiled to herself. “I will ask him,” she said, “but he will not mind. I am rather certain of it.”
Lizzie lay on her back, smiling at the sky.
Georgie was telling the story of the three bears and the big bad wolf to Ned, who sat with a transfixed expression on his face.
Lizzie was listening to her sister, but mostly, she was dreaming about Tyrell.
She sighed, smiling up at the passing clouds.
Moving to Wicklowe felt odd and wonderful, all at once—as if they had become a family and were moving into their own home like any married couple. She refused to think about Blanche now.
Georgie stopped in midsentence.
“More!” Ned shouted.
Lizzie turned to look at them and saw Rory McBane striding across the lawns toward them.
She sat up as her heart began to wildly race. Rory never faltered, his strides filled with purpose, and he was close enough now for Lizzie to see how strained his expression was.
She was frantic. What would Tyrell do if he found out that she had lied to him?
Was it possible that he would be thrilled that Ned was his child—or would his feelings of affection once again turn to suspicion, mistrust and even hatred?
Lizzie got to her feet, wringing her hands. Rory was about to destroy her world!
Georgie leapt up. “I will send him away! Take Ned and go back to the house.”
Lizzie grasped her wrist. “No. I don’t think there is any stopping him.”
But Georgie shook free and planted herself directly in front of Lizzie. “Good afternoon, Mr. McBane,” she said, her anxiety reflected in her eyes.
He was forced to pause. He barely bowed. “Miss Fitzgerald. I would like a word with your sister, please.”
“Lizzie is not feeling well and she is returning to her rooms.”
Rory’s flashing gaze slammed over Georgie. “Are you a part of this conspiracy, too?”
“I have no idea of what you speak of,” Georgie said, “but I must warn you, sir, to stay away from my sister.”
“Georgie,” Lizzie tried, stepping forward.
Georgie ignored her, and now Rory did not seem to see her at all. “I do not think you should interfere in our relationship,” he said in such a soft, dangerous tone that Lizzie shuddered.
Georgie cried, “I did not realize that you had a relationship with my sister!”
Their gazes locked. “You would be bothered by such a friendship?” he finally asked.
Georgie was red. “It bothers me that you think to meddle in my sister’s life,” she trembled. “She does not need you chasing after her, sir.”
He gave her another head-to-toe look and said, “I have no wish to argue with you, Miss Fitzgerald, as you have made your feelings for me clear. It is obvious that you can barely tolerate my presence. I am sorry I am not as gallant and as charming as your beloved fiancé. But then, some women are able to ignore certain physical attributes, and will sacrifice anything for a future of financial security. I hope you are very happy, Miss Fitzgerald, with your wine merchant.”
Lizzie cried out. “Rory, how can you speak that way!”
He jerked as if he had forgotten her existence.
Georgie was pale. “Some women have no choice when it comes to the future, Mr. McBane,” she said, looking quite shaken. “I don’t believe there is anything else to say. Good day.”
But Rory did not move. “I apologize,” he said grimly, his cheeks as pink as hers. “That was a most ungentlemanly thing to say.” He hesitated. “I did not mean to imply that you are marrying for a fortune.”
Georgie was hurt and Lizzie knew it, but she held her head high, “As you said, it was not a gentlemanly thing to say.” She shrugged, her meaning clear: he was a poseur and not a real gentleman, not in any way.
Georgie turned away, but Lizzie was shocked to see her eyes suddenly filling with tears.
Because Georgie never cried—she was so rational, so sensible and so cool-headed in all matters—Lizzie rushed forward, determined to salvage her pride.
“Rory,” Lizzie said.
He tore his regard from Georgie’s back. When their gazes met, his face turned hard and grim. Lizzie stared back at him. A terrible, interminable moment passed.
“I thought we were friends,” he said harshly.
“We are friends. You are so dear to me!” Lizzie cried.
His gaze veered to Georgie and then to Ned, whom she had lifted into her arms. Then, regarding only Lizzie, he said, “Tyrell is also my friend.”
Lizzie inhaled. She touched his sleeve. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. But first you must explain to me what you are doing, and why. I cannot believe the Lizzie Fitzgerald I have known for almost two years would play such a masquerade!”
Lizzie winced. “I had no choice.”
“We both know you have never carried any child. And I know you well, Lizzie. You are no desperate fortune hunter, thinking to trick Tyrell with some confidence game. I have come to one inevitable conclusion. Anna was the one who swooned upon arriving at Merrion Square. Anna was the one who was always indisposed and never able to socialize with anyone. He must be Anna’s son. ”
Lizzie closed her eyes, her heart pounding. She did not know what to do. “Please,” she finally said. “Anna is happily married. Please.”
His eyes were wide. “So you claim your sister’s child as your own?”
Lizzie nodded.
“And Tyrell? He has agreed to let you sacrifice yourself this way? I find that very hard to believe!”
Lizzie prayed Rory and Tyrell would never speak about Ned.
“Rory, stop! Ned is Tyrell’s son. We have an agreement—an arrangement, if you will.
We are both doing what we think is best for Ned.
Can that not be enough for you?” Even as she spoke, she was ashamed of herself.
Tyrell had every right to know the entire truth.
And loving him impossibly now, she realized that she could not go on much longer this way.
“And I have to stay…I have come to love Ned as if he is my own.”
Rory continued to stare at her in disbelief. He finally said, “You lied to me. We are cousins. And I truly thought we had become genuine friends. You kept this secret from me.” He shook his head. “And now—now you are his mistress, aren’t you?”
Lizzie started.
“I am hardly blind! I thought I knew you. But I didn’t. I don’t,” he corrected. Not even bowing, he turned and strode angrily off.
Lizzie cried out after him. “Rory, wait!”
But he did not stop. Instead of entering the back of the house from the terrace, he veered to the side and went around it, disappearing finally from sight.
Georgie had come to stand beside her, Ned in her arms. “He is in love with you,” she said quietly. “That is why he is so upset.”
Lizzie turned in surprise. “No, you are wrong!”
Georgie just looked at her.