Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
The invitation to Captain Hollings's homecoming ball arrived on elegant cardstock with gold lettering that suggested no expense had been spared for the occasion. Victoria practically vibrated with excitement as she read the details aloud over breakfast at Lavender Cottage.
"A proper ball, Eliza! The first major social event of the winter season, and in honor of Captain Hollings's safe return from the Peninsula. Everyone of consequence will be there."
"Including Lord Avebury," Georgiana added meaningfully, having clearly studied the guest list with considerable attention. "This will be the perfect opportunity for you to be seen together in formal social circumstances."
I set down my teacup with deliberate care. "I'm not certain I wish to be 'seen together' with anyone in particular."
"Nonsense," Victoria said briskly. "You've been hiding away at this cottage for weeks. If you are not returning to London, then embrace your home. It's time to rejoin society properly, and a ball is exactly the right venue for such a reappearance."
Despite my protests, I found myself being swept along by my sisters' enthusiasm. Within hours, they had summoned their modiste from London, arranged for additional fittings, and begun planning my reintroduction to Somerset society with military precision.
"The blue silk with silver trim," Victoria declared, studying the gowns that had been laid out for consideration. "It brings out your eyes beautifully and suggests both elegance and accessibility."
"I look forward to being both elegant and accessible," I said dryly.
"Don't be sarcastic, Eliza. Have a little fun."
I smiled reluctantly. “You are so right. Forgive my curmudgeonly attitude.” I surprised us both and kissed her cheek. “You have been such a dear and have done so much for me all this time. Thank you.”
Her eyes misted over and she waved me off.
“If not us, who? We are your family.” She straightened a piece of my hair.
“I know Lord Avebury hurt your feelings in all of his attempts to help you. I know you thought he was someone he was not, and he let you keep on thinking it. But he’s a good man.
He did all of it for you. And can you blame a man for so desperately wanting to get to know you better?
I guess I don’t like what he did either, but I see it so differently.
His motivations are what most interest me. ”
I nodded. What she said made sense. It was true, really. But it was also very difficult to think something totally untrue about a person and be allowed to keep thinking it, a bit like the brunt of everyone’s joke.
Three days later, I stood before the mirror in my room at Wyndham Hall—I had decided to spend the night there for convenience—while Lucy put the finishing touches on my toilette.
The blue silk was indeed flattering, and the silver trim caught the candlelight in ways that made the entire ensemble seem to shimmer.
"You look beautiful, ma'am," Lucy said warmly. "Any gentleman with eyes in his head will be quite taken with you."
"I do rather like it, myself. My sisters know what they are doing, don’t they?” Though, as far as attracting gentlemen, I knew without admitting it to anyone, there was really only one gentleman I cared to see, and I wasn’t even certain I should be thinking so.
The Hollings estate was ablaze with lights when our carriage arrived; music spilled from the open windows as we made our way up the drive.
The ballroom was already crowded with the cream of Somerset society, all dressed in their finest and clearly prepared for an evening of serious social maneuvering.
"Mrs. Tynsdale!" Mrs. Hollings approached immediately, her face glowing with maternal pride. "How lovely to see you. You simply must meet my son—he's been so eager for introductions after hearing about your charitable work."
Before I could respond, she had guided me toward a tall gentleman in dress uniform who was surrounded by admirers but immediately excused himself from them to turn to us when he saw our approach.
Captain Timothy Hollings proved to be everything that mothers hoped for in their sons and young ladies dreamed of in their suitors.
He was handsome in the classical sense, with fair hair and blue eyes that held both intelligence and warmth.
His bearing spoke of confidence earned through real accomplishment rather than inherited privilege, and his smile suggested genuine pleasure in meeting new people.
"Mrs. Tynsdale," he said, bowing with military precision. "I've heard remarkable things about your work during the recent flooding. Such courage and compassion are rare qualities."
"You're very kind, Captain. And welcome home. The Peninsula must have been quite an ordeal."
"It had its challenges, but nothing compared to the joy of returning to England and discovering how much good work has been accomplished in my absence. Your foundling home project, for instance—my mother tells me you're organizing Christmas celebrations for the children?"
"A community effort, really. Many families are contributing their time and skills."
"Nevertheless, it requires leadership and vision to coordinate such an undertaking. I'd very much like to hear more about it, if you'd do me the honor of the first dance?"
I accepted, partly from politeness and partly from curiosity about this returning hero who seemed to possess both charm and substance. As he led me onto the dance floor, I noticed several envious glances from other young ladies and realized that Captain Hollings was indeed considered quite a prize.
The dance—a country dance that allowed for conversation—proved pleasant enough. Captain Hollings was an excellent partner, moving with the sort of natural grace that suggested extensive practice, and his conversation was both intelligent and properly attentive.
"Tell me about these children," he said as we moved through the figures. "What drew you to such work?"
I found myself describing the foundling home with enthusiasm, how the widows had raised funds and created such a beautiful have for children, noting how politely he listened and how appropriate his questions were.
Captain Hollings seemed like exactly the sort of gentleman any sensible woman would appreciate—handsome, accomplished, clearly interested in my welfare.
And yet, as pleasant as his company was, his charm undeniable, it touched only the surface of my attention.
"Remarkable," he said when I finished. "And you've organized all of this while managing your own estate? Your energy must be boundless."
I laughed politely. "On no, I’m plenty tired. I simply believe that meaningful work provides its own energy."
"Wise philosophy. I've found the same thing to be true in military service—the most exhausting days are often the most satisfying when the cause is worthy."
As the dance concluded, Captain Hollings seemed reluctant to return me to the side of the ballroom, but before he could speak, Julian appeared with the sort of timing that suggested he had been watching for an opportunity.
"Mrs. Tynsdale," he said with a polite bow. "I believe you promised me the next dance?"
I looked at him with surprise, having made no such promise, but something in his expression made me nod.
"Of course, Lord Avebury. Captain Hollings, may I present Lord Avebury? Lord Avebury, Captain Hollings."
The two men acknowledged each other with polite formality, though I sensed undercurrents I didn't fully understand.
As Julian led me onto the dance floor for what proved to be a waltz, I felt the familiar electricity that his touch always brought. Where Captain Hollings had been pleasant but unremarkable, Julian's presence commanded my complete attention.
"That was rather presumptuous," I said quietly as we began to move. "I don't recall promising you any dances."
"Forgive me. I needed to speak with you, and Hollings seemed... quite determined to monopolize your time."
"Come, Lord Avebury, he's charming and accomplished. Any woman would be flattered by his attention."
He eyed me for a moment with an unreadable expression. "Are you flattered?"
I considered the question as we moved through the familiar steps. I was tempted to create some sort of false interest. But honesty won out. "I'm... I find myself rather unmoved by his charms." I sighed.
“You sound disappointed.” His mouth quirked.
I shook my head. “No. It’s not that. If I can but feel at peace with my lot, it would be a happy one indeed.” I wondered if he would understand everything I was not saying.
Something shifted in Julian's expression—relief, perhaps, mixed with something deeper.
"Eliza," he said quietly, "I need you to understand how the deception began. It was never meant to be a deception at all."
I remained silent, waiting.
"I was helping your aunt in her final months. As a friend, a neighbor who had known her for years. Getting her books in order, ensuring everything would be ready for your arrival. She spoke of you constantly—your intelligence, your kind heart, your strength after your husband's death."
His grip on my waist was gentle but sure as we turned through the dance.
"To honor her, and I admit, to please you, I was working quickly to prepare everything. You arrived two days earlier than expected. I was in the study, working on estate papers, when you walked in and assumed I was the steward. I should have corrected you immediately."
"Why didn't you?"
"At first, it seemed awkward—you were clearly exhausted from travel, overwhelmed by inheriting an estate, dealing with your grief. Correcting your assumption felt like adding unnecessary complication to an already difficult moment."
We moved in silence for several measures, other couples swirling around us.
"And then?" I prompted softly.