Page 58 of The Secret Identity of the Lord's Aide
Lady Elizabeth sat across from him. Peter set down two cups of tea, along with a platter of biscuits and the rest of the scones. Elizabeth thanked him with earnest eyes before lifting the piping hot tea to her face and inhaling the steam. Nathaniel felt he could watch her tiny mannerisms all day long. He felt every bit of her was unique, unlike any other woman he’d spent a moment with his entire life.
“I know exactly where I was in the story. Don’t worry.” Lady Elizabeth sighed. “I’ve told myself the story of Conner, and of my father, so many times now that I ache with it. I know the dialogue, the script.”
“If it’s too difficult …” Nathaniel began.
“No, no. It shouldn’t be. Not anymore.” Elizabeth sighed. “What you must know is this. Conner had this … this plan. This plot. Even I didn’t see through it. See, he came from an adventuring father. A father who often sailed ships across the oceans, met cultures far and wide. And one day, Conner informed me that his father had discovered a brand new island off the coast of South America.”
Nathaniel hadn’t expected something like this. Again, he flicked off the edge of his scone, feeling unable to eat but needing something to do with his hands.
“According to Conner, his father told him this island was absolutely astounding. The variety of animals was remarkable. It was said to contain gold, silver, bronze, and oil. When he told me about it, I was quite young. But I felt the excitement in his voice. I burst into tears, imagining such a glorious place. It seemed to me that the island would have vibrant colours I hadn’t before imagined. It seemed that it was beyond my wildest dreams.
“After this discovery, Conner informed my father, and then the two created a business—along with, apparently, Conner’s father. Mind you, Conner’s father wasn’t around for any of this and was instead sending letters from this far-off location. At least, that’s what Conner and my father told me at the time. It sounds so ridiculous now, to my 28-year-old ears. But gosh, each and every day with Conner back then sizzled with excitement. I found myself caught up in it, easily. It was impossible not to be.
“He and my father decided to begin asking for money to head out and colonise this new island. My father, Thomas Byrd, was the 8th Baron Conway, and he had a great deal of trust throughout the upper echelon of Society. I soon found myself going with Conner and my father to countless dinner events, during which Conner and my father would convince more and more people to invest in their endeavour.”
At this, Elizabeth’s face crumpled a bit. “I know they must think I’m a complete imbecile, now. For I remember even trying to convince them, myself. I would sit in the side room with the women, telling them that Conner was a genius. That my father had never made an ill move when it came to money, in my entire life. And because I was beautiful, because I was well-dressed, I suppose I acted as a kind of—shall we say—advertisement. How could they doubt my father and Conner? They had everything, and they were preparing to take on the world.”
Nathaniel fought every urge not to reach across the table, to place his hand across hers. He felt the pain and torment behind each of her words.
“It’s truly wretched to remember yourself this way. I understand,” Nathaniel murmured.
Elizabeth’s eyes were like those of Nathaniel’s dog, just after he’d been caught in that hunting trap. She swallowed hard, dotting her cheeks with a napkin.
“Of course, the island wasn’t true. The man who discovered it had been Conner’s best friend and ally, a man who’d contributed the most money of all. Immediately, Conner was tossed into prison and sent to trial.
“My father, on the other hand, was the 8th Baron Conway,” she continued. “And while I watched Conner hang from a rope for his crimes, my father fled. He would never be prosecuted for his crimes, you see, as he was a peer. He simply fled from shame. He didn’t stay behind to ensure that I didn’t have to lose everything. He didn’t stay behind to fight for Conner’s life. His partner! The man I was meant to spend the rest of my life with!”
Elizabeth lifted her chin. It quivered slightly, showing the ferocity of her thoughts.
“And that’s why I don’t wish to belong to society. That’s why I wish to write for The Rising Sun, to volunteer at the shelter, to live in this house—” She slashed her hands through the air, gesturing at the shoddy table, the crooked chairs, the crumbs of scones on the ground below. “How can I possibly belong to a society that engenders and encourages that sort of shame? The shame that cast my father away from me and left me to rot. You know … my friends, my dearest debutante friends. They all turned on me, except for Irene. Irene offered me a job at The Rising Sun. And every day, it seems she offers me more opportunities to rise in the ranks. I’m fighting for my own life, now. I’ll never fall for another man the way I did with Conner. I’ll never allow myself to be so vulnerable. It’s simply idiotic. And that’s that.”
The words hung in the air between them.
Nathaniel knew it was his time to say the right thing. To verbalise that her story meant something to him. That his heart ached with the reality of it. How horrific it must have been to be alone, after that. He envisioned Elizabeth in what had surely been a large mansion, surrounded by a proper estate, falling to her knees as she realised what had happened to her. The person she’d believed in most in the entire world had duped her, led her to believe he was this incredible force of nature, for good.
And now, she was alone.
But she didn’t have to be.
Nathaniel brought his hands atop the table. They were mighty when compared to hers, the hands of a man who longed to exist outdoors, to hunt, to fish. Elizabeth’s eyes traced his fingers, drawing up towards his wrists. He watched her eyes explore his body, his face, his thick beard. And then, he brought one of his hands to her upper arm, and he gripped it. Her eyes finally found his. They held one another’s gaze for many seconds. Behind Nathaniel, a seemingly anxious Peter had bolted away, not wanting to be caught watching this sort of event unfold.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner,” Elizabeth murmured. “But now, you must understand the importance of the Judgement of Death Act. To save the children of this city. To ensure nobody has to endure what I did with my father and with Conner, ever again …”
“I understand,” Lord Linfield murmured. And for the first time, he did. He recognised that whatever anger he felt towards the horrific men who’d robbed his father of his life was very small when compared to the countless lives that could be saved as a result of the Judgement of Death Act.
Elizabeth made no motion for him to take his hand away. Everything within Nathaniel told him to lean forward, to take her lips upon his. How soft they must be. How tender. Despite the horrors she’d witnessed, she was every bit the flourishing woman he’d longed for.
Elizabeth opened her lips to speak again. Nathaniel feared what she might say next. But seconds later, there was a crack at the door. Nathaniel removed his hand immediately. Peter bolted across the kitchen, drawing open the door to find Irene on the other side. She pummelled in, unravelling her scarf. Her cheeks were bright red, and her eyes spoke of the chaos of the streets. She knocked off her boots at the door, hollering.
“You can’t imagine what it might take to find a single writer who can avoid the simplest mistakes.” She sighed. “Goodness me. An Oxford comma? Decide if you’re going to use it. And as far as passive voice goes, I can’t truly deduce where in the world they got the idea that …”
Irene paused, sensing the tension in the room. Elizabeth sprung up from her chair, adjusting her skirts. Nathaniel rose, knowing it was proper to greet Irene. He did as he was meant to do, kissing her hand and watching as she drew her arm back slowly. It seemed he and Elizabeth were on full display. She analysed each and every body movement.
“This seems rather cosy, now, doesn’t it?” Irene finally said. “Peter, you’ve made scones?”
Peter jumped to action, reaching for the platter and drawing it towards Irene. Irene snapped up one of the bigger ones before hobbling to seat herself alongside Elizabeth. Nathaniel ached to be in the moment of just a minute before when he’d felt dangerously close to telling Elizabeth his feelings for her.
“What about you, my lady,” Irene said, dribbling crumbs atop her dress. “Last we spoke you were in the midst of writing up your first non-political essay. How did it turn out?”
