Chapter 42
ELIZA
Roderick House in London felt surprisingly warm and welcoming when I arrived, which was odd since I’d never liked the place much. But now, it was the closest thing I’d felt to home in weeks. If it would’ve been acceptable, I would have sunk to my knees and kissed the floor.
As it was, however, I didn’t want any of Father’s household staff fainting if I should do something as unbecoming as kissing the floor.
Instead, I paused just inside the front door, taking in the polished wood floors, the muted red color of the walls, the centuries-old furniture, and the faint scent of something floral—fresh arrangements, no doubt—and nearly started weeping.
It suddenly didn’t matter that Roderick House was not Roderick Castle. I was home, and that was what mattered.
I slid out of my coat and hung it on the rack by the door. I finally felt like I could breathe again. Logically, I knew I couldn’t outrun my problems. Booking a flight and crossing an ocean didn’t mean that anything had been solved, but emotionally, it felt like it had.
I started down the hallway, the familiarity of it all wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. This was life as I knew it, down to the artwork on the walls and the way the light filtered in through the tall windows.
Voices drifted from one of the sitting rooms ahead, their tones light and conversational, even punctuated by the occasional laugh. I slowed as I approached, not entirely sure I was ready for people yet, but I knew I had to at least say hello before I disappeared upstairs.
When I glanced into the room, I suddenly found myself wishing I had simply vanished to my bedroom like a thief in the night. Winnie stood in the middle of the room with a dress draped around her that made her look like she’d stepped straight out of a bridal magazine.
It was made of pale pink fabric. A seamstress crouched at her feet making adjustments with quick, practiced movements. It seemed I’d walked in on a dress fitting for the wedding.
My wedding.
The arrangements hadn’t simply paused just because my world had imploded. I was staring at proof of that. In the flesh.
Winnie turned slightly, examining herself in the mirror with a focused, critical expression on her face. “I don’t like that fold at my hip, Eleanor. It makes me look lumpy.”
The seamstress glanced up at her. “Of course, Lady Roderick. I’ll pin it down and we’ll see about draping it differently.”
Winnie’s nose wrinkled, but she sighed and continued giving her notes, not even noticing me. The bride. The person the entire event was supposedly centered around.
I stood there for another second, half hidden in the doorway, just watching her.
“Take it in just a touch at the waist as well,” Winnie said, gesturing absently.
The seamstress nodded and immediately jumped into action, and I had to bite back a laugh at the absurdity of it all. I’d flown across the world in the middle of an emotional breakdown, and somehow, I was still peripheral.
The least important person in my own wedding.
“Eliza?”
I turned at the sound of my name to see Miriam a few steps behind me, her eyes wide, and her features caught somewhere between surprise and concern. “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be in London for another week.”
“I—” My voice failed immediately, so I tried again, swallowing hard. “I just—” Finally, I settled for simply shaking my head, realizing that not a single coherent sentence was going to make it past my lips right now.
Miriam’s surprise melted into a gentle, understanding smile. “Oh,” she said quietly. “Come here, darling.”
That was all it took for the relief I’d felt walking in to crack straight down the middle. I’d thought that I’d escaped and made it to someplace safe, but even here, the pain was still there.
My vision blurred and my chest tightened as I moved straight into her open arms. I didn’t even attempt to hold it together, just burying my face against her shoulder as a sob broke free.
“Oh, darling,” Miriam murmured, her arms instantly folding around me in a steady, warm hug. “What happened?”
“I can’t…” I tried again, my voice shaking. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“It’s alright,” she said softly. “It’s alright, Eliza.”
I shook my head, the tears spilling out faster now as everything I’d been holding in finally came crashing through the guards I’d tried so hard to hold in place. “It’s all wrong, Miriam. Everything is just wrong.”
“Shh,” she soothed, holding me tighter. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not,” I whispered, gripping her like she was a life raft. “It’s really not.”
Her hand moved gently through my hair. “Perhaps not now, but it will be.”
Miriam held me for a few more moments before guiding me upstairs without asking any more questions. As we walked into my bedroom, I realized that my suitcases had appeared, but she led me straight past them to the bed.
“Sit,” she said gently. “I’ll be right back.”
I nodded and sat down on the edge of my bed, just trying to catch my breath while all the emotions rolling around inside refused to settle. Miriam stroked a hand through my hair again, then spun on her heels and hurried out of the room.
When she was gone, somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I should be productive. Get up, go over to my suitcases, and unpack what I needed to shower and freshen up. It had been a long flight and a long day before that.
My clothes were wrinkled, and my skin was covered in a layer of travel grime that only a hot shower and soap could fix, but I didn’t do any of that. I just kept sitting there, wondering how I was going to explain my sudden presence here to my father.
A few minutes later, Miriam returned with a tray of tea and biscuits. The normalcy of it threatened to make me start sobbing all over again. I barely managed to keep it together as she set the tray down and fixed my tea, handing it over when she was done.
“Here,” she said. “Drink. I’ve made it sweet. It looked like you could use the sugar.”
“Thank you.” I wrapped my hands around the delicate cup, and immediately, it felt like my anchor to the real world had been reattached.
The cups at Will’s house were fine. They just weren’t… these. Sort of a metaphor for everything in my life at the moment, isn’t it?
Miriam poured herself a cup and then sat down beside me, the familiar presence of her so calming that I felt it wash over me in waves of blissful comfort.
I’d missed this so sorely. At first, we simply sat in silence, me sipping my tea while she nibbled at a cookie and kept trying to sneak another into my hand.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” she asked softly once I’d felt some of the tension ease from my body.
I stared into my tea, watching the faint ripple of the surface as I tried to organize my thoughts into a semi-coherent order. “It’s rather complicated.”
“I gathered as much,” she replied, a hint of her dry humor slipping through. “Try me. I’m sure I’ll keep up.”
“It wasn’t Jesse,” I said finally, realizing that the only way to start was to actually start, so I started at the grand reveal.
Miriam frowned. “What do you mean? Jesse isn’t the one who caused you to come home early?”
“No.” I let out a shaky breath. “The man I’ve been with in Chicago. The one who was here, at the castle with us. It wasn’t him.”
Her frown deepened. “That’s impossible. I remember him from—”
“It was his brother, Will. Jesse’s twin. They. He…” I pressed a palm to my forehead. “He pretended to be Jesse.”
Miriam just stared at me like she wasn’t sure whether or not I’d lost the plot. I didn’t blame her. It sounded ridiculous. Impossible. If I hadn’t lived it, I wouldn’t have believed it either.
“Will,” she finally mused. “I remember him as well. Did they really switch places, with Will coming here in Jesse’s stead?”
I nodded, my eyes stinging again. “Apparently, Jesse wasn’t quite pleased about the arrangement, but the family paid him no mind. They simply sent his brother in as a substitute. I was collateral damage.”
Her shock immediately gave way to anger. “The nerve of those people. When did you find out?”
“A few days ago.”
Miriam exhaled slowly. “I don’t even know what to say. What appalling behavior.”
“It really was, but I also sort of understand why Will did it. Why he agreed to step in for his brother. It seems it’s something of a pattern with him.”
Her lips pursed into a stern pout. “Siblings relationships are often tricky. You know that yourself. Better than most. It is not, however, an excuse to humiliate someone else.”
“I know, but I’m not just embarrassed, Miri.
I’m hurt. I don’t even know what was real anymore.
Everything he said and did. How am I supposed to trust any of it?
” I shook my head before I let it hang forward, trying to focus on my breathing instead of how much it was all tearing me apart.
“I think I was in love with him. With Will. But now I’m supposed to marry someone else. Someone I barely know.”
I let out a small, broken laugh as tears started streaming down my cheeks again. “I can’t. I can’t possibly go through with the wedding while I’m in love with the groom’s twin brother.”
Miriam reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Don’t think about that right now.”
I frowned. “How can I not?”
“You’re exhausted, darling,” she said. “You’re going through something incredibly overwhelming and you’re trying to make decisions about the rest of your life while you’re still in the middle of it. This simply isn’t the time.”
I opened my mouth to argue but instantly snapped it shut when she gave me a look that said she wasn’t going to indulge me. After sliding an arm around my shoulders for a hug, she squeezed me tight, then let go and stood up.
“Sleep now,” she said firmly. “I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed, so get some rest and we’ll look at the situation with a fresh mind in the morning.”
“That’s annoyingly logical of you,” I murmured. “I don’t know if sleep is going to fix this, Miri.”
“It won’t, but it might make it easier to see clearly.”
Fair enough.
I hadn’t been getting much sleep since I’d left here. Those nights I’d spent in Will’s arms had been blissful, but even then, I’d known he was hiding something from me and it had kept me from getting much rest.
She smoothed a hand over my shoulder. “I’ll check on you in the morning.”
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “Good night.”
“Good night, Lady Roderick, and in case no one else remembers to say this, welcome home. It’s good to see you. We’ve really missed you around here.”
She gave me a small, reassuring smile before leaving the room, closing the door quietly behind her. I lay back on the bed, still trying to work up the courage for that shower, but as I rolled my head to the side, I saw my phone on the bedside table.
It would be so easy to call him. Just to hear his voice. My fingers twitched slightly, like they were considering reaching for it on their own if I wouldn’t do it.
I missed him so much that it felt like I’d left a body part in America instead of a man I clearly didn’t know half as well as I’d thought I did.
But I also knew that calling him would only make things worse. Potentially complicate them even more. That was the last thing any of us needed. I finally stood up and went to gather my toiletries.
Perhaps Miriam was right. Perhaps this really would all look better in the morning. It certainly couldn’t look any worse.