Page 8 of A Question of Worth

Closing her eyes, Eliza shook her head. "No." Her voice wavered. "I cannot understand why she would have any reason to grant me such a generous boon." She did not, for the moment, inform him about the condition attached to the inheritance, thinking to herself that it was not something he was required to know.

Lord Ashcombe did not move, his eyes never straying from hers. For a long moment, he said nothing, but Eliza could almost feel the weight of his thoughts pressing down upon her. His gaze flicked briefly to Lady Newark, as if he were measuring her aunt's response, wondering whether or not she had anything further to add to this particular conversation.

She only looked back at him steadily, and Eliza, breathing hard, did her best to keep herself outwardly composed even though, inwardly, she felt herself shudder.

"I am afraid that I do not believe you," Lord Ashcombe said at last, his voice cold, his words clipped. "Icannotbelieve you."

Eliza stiffened at once, her lips parting in surprise at his accusation. Her aunt, who had remained largely silent thus far, now made her presence known with a quick, sharp movement towards Lord Ashcombe, rising from her chair at once. "Forgive me, Lord Ashcombe, but I believe my niece has made herself quite clear." Her voice was low and firm, no measure of argument in her tone. "There is no reason to press her further. What she says is the truth."

Lord Ashcombe turned to Lady Newark as Eliza caught the slight tightening of his jaw. Evidently, he was not a man accustomed to being spoken to in such a sharp manner. "There must be something more to the acquaintance, something that would explain her extreme generosity." His head lifted a little, his gaze fixed on hers. "I would appreciate it if you were forthcoming."

Eliza's breath swirled in her chest. The pressure was becoming unbearable, the room too small, the air too thick for her comfort. She wanted to protest aloud, to say that shehadtold him the truth — but clearly he was waiting for more. What could she say to him? There was nothing more to give. Tugging her eyes away from his, her fingers gripped all the more tightly together as she drew in a slow, steadying breath. Her thoughts swirled, emotions churning in her chest like a storm gathering strength.

"I am sorry, Lord Ashcombe." A sudden, strange forcefulness pushed through her as she compelled herself to look back towards him, seeing now that the only relief she was to get from this suffocating presence was for him to take his leave — willingly or otherwise. "There is nothing more for me to say. I have already told you the truth and told it to you in its entirety. Ibelieve," she finished, her chin lifting a fraction, "that it may be time for you to take your leave."

The words were gently spoken but all the same, left a strange taste on her tongue. To speak with such force was not at all how a young lady ought to behave, she knew, but the pressure of his company was too great, the weight of his scrutiny unbearable.

Lord Ashcombe's face registered astonishment, his eyebrows lifting as Eliza swallowed at the tightness in her throat. For a brief moment, she feared he would press her further, would continue to insist on some answer she could not give despite both her own and her aunt's words, only for him to dip his head and grimace.

"As you wish, Miss Fairleigh, Lady Newark," he said, a hint of frustration echoing in his words. "I shall take my leave."

Without another word — and much to her relief — he turned, his dark coat sweeping behind him as he quit the room. The door clicked shut behind him, and for a long moment, Eliza remained where she sat, closing her eyes and leaning forward, breathing long, slow breaths as she quietened her heart.

"Goodness." Her aunt's light tone demanded that Eliza smile, albeit ruefully. "That was an interesting introduction, was it not?"

"It was indeed."

"An unforgettable one." Her words were laced with a quiet amusement. "Lord Ashcombe is, I think, a most interesting gentleman — determined, forthright but still willing to be respectful. I am glad that he took his leave when we asked it of him."

"Indeed."

Her aunt smiled sympathetically. "I presume his visit did nothing to ease your confusion and upset, my dear Eliza?"

Eliza could not bring herself to answer, giving her aunt only a small shake of her head in response. Her thoughts were still atangle of chaos, fear, and frustration. She did not know what to make of this encounter or of the strange, unsettling figure that Lord Ashcombe had revealed himself to be.

Her fingers found the seam of her glove again, tracing the stitching with her thumbnail. "You do believe that I have no notion as to why Lady Warrington did such a thing, do you not? You trust that I spoke the truth?"

"Of course I do!" Her aunt's eyebrows lifted gently. "There is not even a single flicker of doubt in my heart when it comes to you, my dear." Her head tilted to one side. "And whether Lord Ashcombe believes it or not is of no relevance." With a lift of her shoulders, she smiled warmly. "I do not think that we will ever see Lord Ashcombe again. You need not worry about that."

"I must hope so," Eliza murmured, rubbing at her forehead as her brow furrowed. "I have confusion enough already."

4

Nathaniel threw back one measure of brandy and then reached for another glass.

"I presume, brother, that the meeting with Lady Newark and her charming niece did not go as well as you had hoped?"

Lifting his glass in his brother's direction as the music from the ball swirled around him, Nathaniel said nothing in response, keeping his expression the same.

"What happened?" James wanted to know, coming a step closer, his eyes searching Nathaniel's face. "Is there a connection between them that we did not know about? Some dreadful family liaison that has been hidden these last sixteen or seventeen years?"

Nathaniel shook his head. "Not as far as I could tell, no," he said, as his brother's face fell. "I am afraid, James, that I cannot bring you any good news, for there is none to give. Miss Fairleigh insisted that she was only ever introduced to our aunt and that she does not have any connection to her whatsoever." He was forced to change his grimace to a smile as three young ladies walked past them both, their glittering eyes catching his, theirsmiles hidden behind their fans. Now was not the time for dark expressions, he reminded himself. He was here in London for a purpose, and that purpose was to find himself a suitable match so he might fulfil his duty and produce the heir. Scowling at potential brides to be would do him no good.

"Do you have any thoughts on what you ought to do next?" James asked, as Nathaniel swirled the brandy in his glass, choosing not to drink it for the moment. "Will you continue to pursue the lady, to demand answers from her?"

With a heavy sigh, Nathaniel shook his head. "I think it will do no good, brother. She is most insistent that her connection to our great-aunt does not exist, and Lady Newark, who was also present, said the very same thing. There is nothing more I can do."

"So you are going to end all your efforts simply because she denies something that weknowmust be there?" James sounded incredulous, making Nathaniel's scowl return with great swiftness. "That does not sound like the resolute, forthright brother that I know."