Chapter 10 #2
“Yes, mum.” Mrs. Greenow bobbed. “They have said he’s right poorly,” she commented as she followed Elizabeth downstairs.
“I’ve heard the same thing.”
She couldn’t picture Lord Middlesex in a feeble condition. He’d been married at least four times and had survived all four ladies. He was feisty, to put it mildly, and spoke his mind at the drop of a hat.
Elizabeth didn’t have to take a carriage, since Jonathan’s father lived directly across the street. She made her way over to the gray-colored town house and rapped on the front door.
Jeffrey, the butler, answered. He was an elderly gentleman who’d been with the Marquess of Middlesex since his early teens. Jeffrey’s hair was snow white, his eyes a faded blue.
“May I help you?” Jeffrey said in his haughty tone.
“Where is your monocle, Jeffrey?” Elizabeth asked with a smile. She knew he didn’t see well, but he was very stubborn about wearing his eyepiece.
He drew himself up straight. “I don’t need a monocle. Now state your business, young woman, or be off with you.” He waved his hand as if he was shooing away a pesky fly.
“Please inform the Marquess that Lady Elizabeth is here to see him,” she said.
“I-I don’t believe you. L-Lady Elizabeth is on the continent,” Jeffrey stuttered and fumbled in his pocket until he found his monocle.
After placing it in his right eye, he peered at Elizabeth.
“It is you,” he said. A slow smile formed, and he reached out and tugged on her arm.
“Come. Come in,” he dithered as he ushered her through the door. “When did you grow up?”
“I’m not sure.” Elizabeth laughed. “Time goes by so quickly.”
“Yes, mum.” Jeffrey nodded slowly. “That is the only thing that is moving quickly these days.” He chuckled, then started for the stairs. “Follow me. The marquess will be glad to see you. We’ve not had much company.”
Elizabeth followed the butler and helped him when he stumbled on one of the steps. “You should get one of the younger men to go up and down these stairs.”
“Rubbish! My knees just give way once in a while.”
He opened the door and stepped quietly inside, leaving Elizabeth in the doorway while she was announced. “I have a visitor for you, sir.”
Elizabeth peered inside while she waited.
The room was much too dark, she thought, and very depressing with its mahogany furniture and dark rosewood panels.
Thick, dark-green carpet stretched across the room.
There were two floor-length windows on each side of the bed, but the drapes were drawn.
A single candle by the bedside provided the only light.
From a large bed in the middle of the room, an older gentleman with white hair leaned up on his elbows. “Who the bloody hell is it, Jeffrey? Can’t they let an old man die in peace?”
“If this isn’t a good time, Lord Middlesex, I can return on a later day,” Elizabeth said from the doorway.
He collapsed back upon his pillow. “I might be dead at a later time,” he snapped. “Come closer, so I can see who this voice belongs to.”
Instead of going to him as the marquess had directed, Elizabeth went to the windows and drew open the heavy, green-and-gold curtains. She tied them back with the matching cords and tassels so the sunlight could shine brightly into the room.
Then she stepped beside the bed and took the marquess’s hand. “Don’t tell me you have forgotten who I am?”
He stared at her a long time, but the gold in his eyes flickered with recognition. “How could I forget our lovely Elizabeth?” he murmured, his voice choked. “Child, you have grown even lovelier, if that is possible.”
“Thank you, sir.” Elizabeth hesitated. She’d never seen Lord Middlesex looking so ill. His skin had the wrinkled appearance of parchment paper, and his blue eyes had lost the sparkle she remembered so well. He’d always been so full of life, and now he seemed a withered shell. “How are you feeling?”
“Not worth a damn.” His lips thinned with irritation. “That old sawbones said I’d be gone before the end of the month,” Lord Middlesex said, and then smiled. “But that was two months ago. I do believe I showed him.”
“Indeed, you did,” Elizabeth agreed. “I don’t think anyone except the Lord can predict when we die.”
“Only if they have a gun in their hands.” He chuckled, and patted the bed beside him.
“Tell me all about yourself and Adam. And what has happened to that sorry son of mine?” The marquess shifted so he could see her better, and Elizabeth helped by propping pillows behind his head so he’d be elevated just a bit.
“Is that better?”
“Much better.” Lord Middlesex smiled, then said, “The last I heard from him, he was going sailing with pirates.” He drew both his brows together and reached out and squeezed her hand.
“Has he lost his bloody mind? He has responsibilities and estates to run.” Lord Middlesex waved his hand in a dismissing gesture.
“Well, that’s another story. Now tell me about yourself. ”
Elizabeth felt hysterical laughter build within her, but she couldn’t say anything. Jonathan had gone sailing with Lafitte? Why? That tidbit of news disturbed her. Had he wanted to be reckless, maybe losing his life, or had he done it for the fun and adventure, never thinking twice about her?
Adam had refused to mention Jonathan in his posts since she wouldn’t tell Jonathan anything about herself, so Elizabeth had finally stopped inquiring. But pirates? She had assumed Jonathan was farming. Pirates?
“Elizabeth. Are you going to speak or just sit there and stare at me?”
Elizabeth smiled. She could see so much of Jonathan in his father. Of course, she wasn’t sure what Jonathan would be like today. Pirates? She just couldn’t let that news rest. Would he still be carefree?
She need not worry about things she couldn’t change, she reminded herself, so she got her mind off of Jonathan and began to tell Lord Middlesex about where they lived and what they had been doing.
She skipped the part about Jonathan fighting with the Americans and his injury.
That information and knowing his son was a traitor would definitely send the marquess to his deathbed.
She also skipped the part about their wedding that didn’t happen.
No need to get a lot of questions she wasn’t willing to answer.
Before she knew it, Elizabeth had spent the whole afternoon with Lord Middlesex, and she’d loved every minute of it.
She couldn’t help wondering if she enjoyed his company because he reminded her so much of Jonathan or just that it was so different to see someone new.
It was like having a small part of Jonathan here with her.
She stood up to go. “I’m sorry if I’ve overtired you.” She fluffed his pillows and smoothed the covers over him.
“Nonsense, my girl,” he said in a voice that sounded much stronger than when she’d first entered the room.
“I’ve enjoyed our visit, and you must promise to come see me again.
And don’t wait too long, or you may miss me.
” He chuckled and winked at her, showing there was still some spirit in the old body.
Elizabeth laughed, too. “I don’t think you’re going anywhere. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”
She felt lighthearted as she hurried down the stairs. It had truly been an enjoyable afternoon. She hoped Dawson had been a good boy, she thought as she made her way to the door.
“Come back soon, Lady Elizabeth,” Jeffrey said as he reached for the door handle. “And I’ll have my eyepiece in next time.” Jeffrey opened the door for her.
I will—” Elizabeth didn’t finish her sentence.
“My, my. Fancy seeing you here,” Jonathan Hird said to an astounded Elizabeth.
This wasn’t possible! Elizabeth’s mind screamed. Jonathan couldn’t be standing in front of her. Hadn’t his father just told her he’d gone to sail with Lafitte? Maybe she should turn and ask Jeffery if he saw Jonathan, too.
“Lord Jonathan,” Jeffrey said. “It is good to have you home, sir. You remember Lady Elizabeth.”
“Unfortunately,” Jonathan clipped.
Elizabeth promptly shut her mouth. Jonathan stood before her and he looked magnificent. His skin was darkly tanned, swarthy, and his eyes were hard. He’d been good-looking before, but now he was so much more so. He seemed bigger and bolder. He fairly reeked of sensuality.
Keeping his gaze fixed on her, he asked, “What? Nothing to say for yourself?” His voice was cold and exact.
She clenched her jaw to kill the sob in her throat. “I—I was visiting your father,” she finally managed to get out.
Jonathan leaned against the railing and stared at her, taking in her appearance.
She looked well and beautiful. There was a glow of innocence and promise, but he knew better than to be suckered in by that.
As his gaze traveled downward, he noticed she was breathing heavily.
Then his gaze rose to her stubborn chin and those damnable eyes. She flinched and retreated a step.
He wasn’t ready to deal with Elizabeth yet. He’d intended to see his father, get settled in, and get some much-needed sleep since he’d not done so in two days. He hadn’t expected to see her so soon. The problem of Elizabeth would have to come later when he informed her of his mission.
Now he stood face-to-face with her and, of course, the guilt was plainly visible in her eyes. “I hope you didn’t make my father any promises you don’t intend to keep,” Jonathan bit out as he ignored the mocking voice inside him that wondered why.
Elizabeth flinched again. She could sense the barely controlled power coiled in Jonathan’s body.
“No, I did not.” She should have realized he’d still be angry, but she didn’t want to face Jonathan at the moment.
As she stared at him, she realized, much to her horror, that she still loved him.
She had hoped that time would lessen her love, but that wasn’t the case. The love and the hurt were still there.
If possible, he was much more commanding in appearance than he had been when she’d first fallen in love. His shoulders seemed broader, his hair a bit longer. The arrogant line of his jaw told her he wasn’t happy to see her at all.
Elizabeth simply wasn’t prepared, but she had to say something. She swallowed and moistened her lips, forcing herself to settle down. “Your father will be glad that you are home,” she said as she struggled to maintain an even, conciliatory tone. “How long have you been back?”
“I just arrived,” he stated curtly with absolutely no emotion.
This wasn’t her Jonathan. His eyes were cold, and the devilish personality that had always made her laugh was nowhere in sight.
It was gone.
Perhaps it was lost forever. Had she done this to him?
He shifted impatiently and crossed his arms over his chest “Your coloring isn’t good, my dear. One would think you’d seen a ghost.”
Her eyes grew wide as her gaze shifted. “Your arm! You can move it.”
“Your observation is correct. I’m not the cripple you left at the altar.”
She felt a nauseating wave of despair. “I never thought of you that way.” Elizabeth’s throat tightened. “I—I must be going.”
“Of course. Running away is your style.”
He might as well have slapped her, but she deserved it. Tears stung her eyes, but she would never let him see them. She lifted her chin, picked up her skirt, and stepped quickly around him. She hurried out into the street, tears blurring her vision. She had to get away from Jonathan. Now!
She never saw it coming.