Page 4 of A Wicked Earl's Widow
When the door was shut, Falsbury refilled his glass of brandy and sat next to his wife. “Slumber Land, is it?”
“Althea had a nightmare last month and didn’t want to close her eyes the next night. Miss Watkins told her to go to Slumber Land when she slept. There were no nightmares allowed there. And passage to this dreamless land is a bedtime story.” Eliza smiled. “Lauren is a godsend. She is so good to Althea, and they adore each other. I was lucky to find her.”
“She’s worth every penny and came highly recommended,” agreed the marquis. “Now, shall I escort my two best ladies to dinner?”
His wife held up a hand. “Not until Eliza tells us what happened today.”
Two sets of eyes fell on her, one suspicious, one inquiring. Her face burned with shame. “I-I…” What could she say? Her father wanted to marry her off to an elderly rich merchant, and she was happy to accept his proposal? Her heart sank as her plan crumbled along with her bravado. She could not lie to these people who had shown her only kindness. They were her family as much as any blood relative. Besides, Lydia would never believe that Eliza could willingly leave her daughter behind. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she dashed them away with irritation. “Do you promise to listen until I’m finished and not to try to dissuade me?”
“I will stay silent until you have finished but I shall not make any such promises.” Lady Falsbury rose and crossed the room, the swish of her umber silk the only noise in the drawing room. She sat next to Eliza, adjusting her lace shawl over her shoulders and smoothing the vandyck edging, then focused her full attention on her daughter-in-law. “Now, how did you get those marks on your face?”
“I’m not sure where to start.” Eliza took a deep breath and let the words tumble out. She began with the letters her father had sent over the last six months and the threats against her mother.
Falsbury interrupted. “By Christ, he’s gone through the money from the dowry property?”
How did he know about that?“He… I—”
“Come my dear, do you think the solicitor hired bymy sonwould not keep me informed?”The marquess snorted. “Did you know he tried to get Carson to invest in one of his shipping schemes shortly after your wedding?”
Eliza could only shake her head.
“We both believed it was the reason he wanted the match to begin with. When Carson declined the offer, Landonshire got his back up and said there’d be the devil to pay for crossing him.” His face softened, and he stopped pacing to stand in front of her. “I apologize. You asked us not to interrupt. Please continue.”
Her head pounded. She hadn’t known her father had tried to get money so early in the marriage. With an effort she finished her story, ending with the events at the cemetery. By the time she finished, her shoulders ached from the tension but her eyes were again dry. “When I saw his hand on Althea’s throat, I-I—”
“Blast and bugger his eyes, he harmed my granddaughter?” Lord Falsbury’s pacing had increased as her story progressed. “I’ll see him in Dunn territory before the year is up.”
“He’s already ruined. Nothing you can do will make his situation worse. I feel it’s best if I marry Mr. Bellum. If I cooperate, he may allow Mama to come live with me.” She held up a hand as her mother-in-law opened her mouth to argue. “I will survive but I cannot allow Althea to grow up in such an environment. I would like to leave her here.”
She grasped the older woman’s hand. “Please, keep her with you, raise her for me. I will visit as often as possible, but my heart will rest easy knowing she is in your care.”
“My dear, under any other circumstance I would agree. But I cannot raise your daughter.”
Eliza fought for breath. Would they truly deny her? There was no other way.
“When Carson married you, I finally received the daughter I had prayed for. When I lost my son, you were there for me, comforting and patient.” The marchioness took her hand in a firm grip. “I love you as my own and will not see harm come to you. We will not give in to his cork-brained demands.”
“I agree with my wife. He’s no better than a bully ruffian, and he’s made his last threat against my family. He’ll float in the Thames before he gets another penny.”
“Chester, don’t frighten the girl. No one will end up in the river. He’s a bitter old man who’s lost too many sons,” Lady Falsbury said reprovingly. “Leave the bluster for later and come up with a solution.”
Eliza laced her shaking fingers together and closed her eyes. This is what she had feared. Yet surprisingly, her racing heart had slowed. She was no longer standing alone against her enemy. They were older and wiser, and she would listen to what they had to say.
The marquess took up his pacing again. “He’s got a spy in my household. I’ll have steward look over the books for any new hires, especially those who may have access to our private quarters. And you, my dear, must take a French leave.”
Eliza drew in a breath. “Pack up and depart unannounced? But my father is expecting to call on us in London next week. He’ll be furious to find an empty house.”
Falsbury gave a tight smile. “You misunderstand, my dear. I have every intention of receiving Lord Landonshire next week. He needs to be informed that his daughter and granddaughter have sailed for the colonies. Boston, perhaps.”
“Boston? I should run away to America?”
He sighed and shook his head. “That will be our story. At dawn, you will depart for Sunderland Castle. My son is more than capable of keeping the both of you safe, and I am sure his wife will be overjoyed to have her cousin for an extended visit.”
Christopher, or Kit as his family called him, had inherited Carson’s title on his twin’s death. He was married to Eliza’s cousin and best friend, Grace. “I do not want to put anyone in danger—”
“There is not a man in England I would put more trust in, even if he were not my son. He faced Napoleon at Waterloo, an aging marquess won’t be so difficult.” Falsbury grinned as he always did when speaking of Kit’s accomplishments. “As soon as you are safely away, we’ll find out who is supplying Landonshire with information.”
Lydia chimed in. “Tomorrow morning the rest of the household will be informed you have fallen ill. A bit of a spring chill, nothing serious, and Althea will remain in her nursery until we are sure she has not caught it.” She put her a finger to her mouth, a habit that told Eliza she was plotting something. “Lauren will need to be told since she’ll accompany you, but we won’t tell her the destination.”
