Page 3 of The Marquess' Disguised Heiress
“Are they okay? Are they resting at your place or are they still on their way here?” she found herself asking, although a part of her mind kept telling her that the question was pointless. If her parents were okay, they would have come home themselves. They had met with an accident and were no longer present here.
She felt tears sting her eyes.
“The accident was too serious, my dear,” her uncle replied, “even the physician could not do anything to save them. They passed away.”
She could hear the woman beside her, her aunt, sobbing loudly, but the ringing in Eliza’s ears only increased until shecould not hear anything. She looked up, her uncle’s mouth still moving as he stared at Eliza calmly. She blinked multiple times, trying to focus on his words.
“… We will be moving in with you immediately so you do not feel alone … our whole family … I have children your age, Eliza, and you will not feel as if you have lost your family even for one second … Henry and Victoria … and Margaret … we will take care of you, Eliza.”
Her parents were gone. They were not coming back.
How is this true? How is any of this real?
She felt tears running down her face, and she was certain her pale, porcelain skin must be botched red. She shared that trait with her mother because whenever she cried, her skin also turned red. Not anymore. Her mother would never shed any tears ever again because she was no longer in this world. She was gone.
No. No. It can’t be.
Eliza looked up as the drawing room door opened, and Miss Donnell walked inside along with Mr Baker. Some other servants were right behind them as well. Eliza saw tears in Ralph’s eyes, her father’s trusted valet. Everyone knew. She could see on their faces that everyone knew her parents were gone, but Eliza could not believe it.
“Miss Eliza?” Lara whispered, walking towards Eliza.
Lara’s hand on her face forced Eliza out of her shocked stance, and she looked around. Her uncle and aunt were still there, right beside her on the other side, but Eliza could not care. She could not care about what they had just said. Everyone was lying.
Her parents had promised they would return from France and bring her cheese and exquisite presents, and they always kept their promise. They would never abandon her in this manner. Eliza was certain.
“It cannot be true,” she whispered, staring straight at nothing in particular, “I am sure it is just a silly misunderstanding, and Mama and Papa are on their way hometo us right now. They cannot just leave like this and never return. It is not true.”
“My Lady,” Mr Baker came closer, his face streaked with tears, “it is true. His Grace and Her Grace are no longer in this world. We have received the news from several sources. I am terribly sorry for this unfortunate sadness thrust upon you.”
“Ralph,” Eliza called out to the elderly valet, standing at the back of the group, sobbing uncontrollably, “Ralph, you must tell them it is not true. They will return to us, won’t they?”
She stood up from the sofa, letting go of Lara’s touch, and hurried towards Ralph, who quickly wiped the tears on his face. He bent down, sitting on his knees in front of Eliza as he looked at her. Eliza could see the truth in his face. Even he did not believe that her parents were returning.
How can everyone be so pessimistic?
“I wish it were a simple misunderstanding, My Lady.” He shook his head. “But the news is true.”
No.
It cannot be.
Footsteps came through the open drawing room door, and Eliza looked up, hoping half to death for her parents to be standing there. She wanted to run to their warm embrace and tell everyone how it was just a harmless joke, and they were still alive.
They had to be.
However, instead of her parents, a familiar set of faces met her. The Blackwoods were here. Eliza immediately knew if someone knew the truth, it would be the trusted neighbours they had on the next estate since they were her parents’ closest friends. Eliza immediately ran towards Lord and Lady Lennox, their son, Alexander, right behind them.
“You must tell me at once that everyone is lying to me.” Eliza could no longer control her sobbing. “Tell me my parents are still on their way to the estate.”
“Oh, my child,” Lady Isabelle Blackwood, the Marchioness of Lennox, bent down and engulfed Eliza into her comforting arms. Eliza clung to her, crying, her worst fear confirmed.
Her parents were no more.
No one had been lying, and it was certainly not a joke. Her parents had truly left.
She parted from Lady Blackwood, her eyes falling on the grief-stricken face of her father’s best friend, Lord Richard Blackwood. Alexander, who was just a few years older than Eliza and one of her closest friends, stood just beside his father respectfully, appearing sorrowful. The Blackwoods would never lie to her.
Her parents had left her all alone in this world.
