Page 21 of A Question of Worth

"Thesixof us," Sarah corrected, giving Eliza pause. "I have invited Lady Jeffries and her daughter, Lady Margaret — and yes, Mama is just to my left, speaking with Lady Wainwright." She stopped, turning to face Eliza and grasping her hand as she did so. "You need not look at all concerned, my dear friend. I have already told them of your presence, and they are quite contented to join us. Not everyone is as unwilling to be in company with you, my friend."

Eliza breathed out through her nose — one slow, careful breath — and allowed her friend's light chatter to quieten her anxiety even more. Seating herself carefully on the picnic blanket, with her aunt doing the same, she let herself fall into conversation, feeling herself relax in increments as nothing untoward occurred. Acquaintances of Lady Sarah greeted her with a nod and occasionally a wave, though none drew near — although Eliza did not mind in the least. It had been some time since she had felt so at ease amongst society. Since the news of her inheritance had wound its way through London, she had felt weighed down, heavily pressed on every side by the glances, the remarks and the gossip that pursued her. Now, however, in the warmth of the sun and in Sarah's company, Eliza allowed herselfto believe that, perhaps even for only a short while, she might be able to enjoy the afternoon without consequence.

"Lady Sarah?"

A voice came from behind them, and Eliza rose quickly, coming to stand beside Sarah as she greeted Lady Jeffries and Lady Margaret before introducing both Eliza and her aunt. Eliza could tell that Lady Margaret was certainly uneasy, given the darting glances she sent towards Eliza and the way she had lowered her head, but Lady Jeffries was quite the opposite. Warm and welcoming, she told Eliza exactly what she thought of gossip and then spoke directly to Lady Newark, remarking on just how well she thought Eliza had managed whilst traversing society.

Eliza's shoulders dropped, the tightness that had gripped her since their arrival easing at last, as Lady Jeffries and Lady Newark took a few steps away so they might continue their conversation in private.

"Lady Margaret," Eliza began, thinking that it would be best to try and promote conversation so that the young lady would not appear so anxious. "Have you been long in London?"

"No, not for more than three weeks as yet." Lady Margaret's voice was soft, her eyes still dancing from one place to the next rather than looking directly at Eliza. "I think that — "

"Goodness, Lady Sarah, a picnic? With such company as that?"

A prickle of awareness ran down Eliza's spine, and she swallowed thickly, looking over her shoulder to see a lady dressed in half mourning, coming towards them. There were four other ladies with her, but Eliza did not recognize any of them.

"Lady Ravenshill, good afternoon." Lady Sarah, with a quick glance towards Eliza, bobbed a quick curtsy, leaving both Elizaand Lady Margaret to do the same. "Yes, as you can see, we are soon to enjoy a fine picnic."

The lady's lip curled. "And with such company as this?" she said for the second time, leaving Eliza with no doubt as to what she meant. The ladies behind her — which Eliza now presumed were either her friends or her sisters since they all appeared similar in age — looked at each other knowingly, with one lifting a hand to whisper something into the ear of the lady next to her.

"You may not be introduced, Lady Ravenshill," Sarah said quickly, as Eliza glanced towards her aunt, only to see her further away still, now meandering alongside Lady Jeffries and entirely unaware of the difficulties Eliza now faced. "Might I present — "

"There is no need to present anyone," Lady Ravenshill snapped, silencing both Sarah and, to Eliza's ears, everyone else in the park such was her vehemence. "Miss Fairleigh is well known to everyone here in London, whether she wishes it to be or not."

Eliza's mouth went dry, and she tried to swallow it away, any possible response she might have made burning away in an instant.

"Miss Fairleigh," Lady Ravenshill said, her grey eyes darkening, "I am surprised to see you out in society still. How fortunate you are to be given such a generous inheritance." She paused, glancing at the other ladies, all of whom had now trained their eyes upon Eliza. "One cannot help but... wonder at such a boon."

"I am certainly very grateful for it," Eliza answered, the words sticking tight in her throat, knowing that the lady meant more by such words. "It was an unexpected gift."

"Such fortunes usually follow family lines, do they not?" Lady Ravenshill's eyes glinted maliciously, and Eliza shrank back inwardly. "Old families, established names and the like are ofgreat importance to those of us in the gentry. To have received such wealth without anyobviousconnection to Lady Warrington is extraordinary, is it not?" Her lips curved into a smile, but it was not one of welcome nor of genuine warmth. "Unless, of course... " She said nothing more, leaving the half sentence hanging in the air and allowing everyone else to fill it with whatever came into their mind.

Eliza knew at once what the lady was suggesting. Unless, of course, her parentage was not what everyone believed it to be. If she was not truly the daughter of Lord Harding. Perhaps she was the granddaughter of Lord or Lady Warrington. Her chin came up — a fraction too high, the effort visible in the stiffness at the base of her neck — but the defiance came too late. She could hardly believe such a thing had been spoken, not only aloud but in public with others around who could hear that particular insinuation.

Her thoughts scattered and then collided as her aunt came to stand directly beside her, with Sarah still on the other.

Eliza blinked, her throat tightening painfully as the pressure built behind her eyes. Why could she not speak for herself? Why could she not summon the strength to refute such arguments?

"Your silence is certainly interesting, Miss Fairleigh." Lady Ravenshill's tone had taken on a slightly mocking quality, making Eliza's face sear all over again. "Might it be that there is some truth in what has been said?"

Beside her, Sarah made a small sound, half protest, half disbelief. She made to step forward but Eliza, grasping her arm, held her back. The last thing she wanted was for her friend to be mired in what were Eliza's own difficulties.

She took a breath.

"That is hardly a fair remark," she managed to say, despite the tremble that was so obviously apparent in her voice. "Ican assure you that my silence came from the shock of your suggestion."

"Oh, it is notmysuggestion," Lady Ravenshill responded quickly, as the other ladies tittered lightly behind their hands, as if Eliza had said something truly foolish. "It is only what the gentry have been speaking of. As we all know, society so often spreads out the truth to every listening ear, whether one wishes it or not."

Something shifted inside Eliza. It was small and sharp, like a bone settling back into place — not courage, exactly, but the stubbornness of a woman who has been shamed past the point where shame can hold her still.

She lifted her chin.

"Lady Warrington was a woman of great discernment," she said, and her voice did not tremble. It was low and clear, and it surprised her, as if someone else had spoken through her mouth. "If she chose to name me in her will, then I must believe she had reason for it. I do not yet know what that reason is — but I know enough of her character to trust that it was not given lightly, nor without purpose."

The words landed. For a single, breathless moment, the group was silent. Sarah's grip on her arm tightened. One of the younger ladies at Lady Ravenshill's elbow exchanged a glance with another, and Eliza thought —hoped— that she had found her footing.

She had not.