“Yes. I love my uncle very much. He has always been kind to me, and most especially to my mother before she passed.” Eliza took a moment and chewed on a bite of sandwich, stared at the milling cattle until she felt like she could speak again without a shake to her voice.
“You miss her,” he said low.
“Very, very much. And now I miss my uncle, and I miss Roy.”
His face ticked and he shook his head, looked away. “You ain’t lost Roy. Not all of him.”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “That’s a talk for another day.”
She remembered how Lenny had clammed up when she spoke of too much, and it was a hard lesson to learn. Her being upset sat heavy on Eliza’s heart. She would have to fix it later. Because of that lesson, she didn’t want to push Garret too much. They were actually at peace here under this great oak tree.
“Anyway, I was having a hard night, and was inundated with males who couldn’t offer much, but wanted to be a part of my Uncle Frederick’s family. It was all…fake. They all spoke at me, not to me. I was just a chess piece. There was a man a few years older than me…he was handsome, but too lowborn for my aunt to allow me to dance with. He pulled me aside and asked me to meet him on the balcony when I got a break. And I know I shouldn’t have, but my aunt kept whispering in my ear about how messy my hair was, and how unflattering my shade of rouge was, and that I should stop eating because my dresses were beginning to fit poorly—”
“Piss on that woman. She don’t know what men like.”
His interruption had surprised her. “W-what do you mean?”
“No red-blooded man wants a stick of a woman unless she just can’t put on weight and he loves her. Ask Burke or Cookie. Ask any man. We like something to grab onto.”
“To…grab onto?”
He inhaled deeply and ate the last bite of his food, then leaned forward, elbow resting on his bent knee. “Go on with your story, Eliza.”
She loved the way he said her name in that deep baritone voice of his. She swallowed audibly. “Well, I got upset at my aunt and stormed out. I went to the balcony, and that man was there, waiting. He had a pair of glasses full to the brim with fine brandy. I knew I shouldn’t, but when I turned around and looked into the great windows of the house, my aunt was visibly angry, obviously talking about me in mixed company. I didn’t want to go in there and pretend to care what those boring men talked about. I always hated the atrocious, hoity-toity conversations with the wealthy. So…I took the glass from the man’s hand, and I made myself drink every drop for no reason other than I wanted to be the disappointment my aunt thought I was anyway. I wanted to earn it.”
“What did that man say to you after you drank it?”
“He wanted me to come to the gardens with him.”
Garret clenched his teeth so hard, a muscle in his jaw twitched. “And?”
“And what?”
“And did you?”
He seemed upset. She offered a prim smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Oh, you’ll tell me.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
“What will you do if I don’t?” she challenged.
“I won’t kiss you again. I know you like it. I can tell when I do it. Tell me, or I’ll go colder than the first snow on you.”
All coherent words left her completely.
“I’ll let you think about it,” he said in a snarly voice as he leaned back against the tree again and pulled his hat down over his face as if he was preparing for a nap.
Anger flashed through her veins, and she smacked the hat off his head. “You tease too much.”
He laughed like he found amusement in her anger, and that only served to make her more furious.
“I don’t need any kiss from you…you…oaf. You are no better than that man with the boils on his face.”