Page 48 of A Single Obsession

“I am driving into Alton this morning with Frances and Miss Whitlow,” she said with what Beau deemed a condescending smile. “There is room in the landau for a fourth. I expect you will be glad of the opportunity to purchase some new gloves.”

His mother cast a significant look at Eliza’s hands, where the tiniest hole was visible at the end of one finger. The ready colour flooded Eliza’s cheeks as she hid the damaged glove under her other hand. With an inner sigh, Beau realised even his mother’s current favourite was not immune from her criticism.

He pitied Eliza, feeling in some measure responsible, as he had made them late, keeping her talking by the lake. She had probably grabbed the damaged pair in her haste to change for breakfast, but if he admitted as much, he would be sure to draw his mother’s fire. Beau decided it was time to make his escape before he became her next target.

As he rose from his seat, Eliza turned and stared up at him. Two pale blue eyes pleaded with him to rescue her before dropping their gaze to examine her hands.

Beau saw the desperation in her unspoken plea, and something inside him stirred. Eliza was looking to him for help, because she believed he would come to her aid.

What a strange sensation to have someone relying on him. No one relied on him. It was an unfamiliar feeling—and not unpleasant.

“I’m sorry to deprive you of Eliza’s company,” he said to his mother, “but I volunteered to show her the new horse.”

Lady Harting smiled sweetly, but the steely look had not disappeared from her eyes. “I am sure Elizabeth would prefer a visit to the shops to a morning in the stables.”

Beau winced as his mother enunciated every syllable of Eliza’s full name, expressing her disapproval of his use of the shortened form.

Did she believe she was offering Eliza a treat? He thought otherwise and determined to rescue her from his mother’s company.

His mind made up, he had to think fast.

“Maybe, but we won’t spend the entire morning in the stables,” he said, though that had been his intention. “When we’ve looked over the horse, we’re going to take my curricle out so that Elizabeth can have a go at taking the reins. She’s never driven my bays, and I know she is itching to try.”

Eliza’s entire face lit up, her eyes shining gratefully up at him, making his chest swell with pride. “Yes, indeed.”

One glance at his mother told him that, though not best pleased, she had noted Eliza’s response and would not prevent them from spending the morning together.

“As you wish. I trust the driving lesson will prove amusing.” She nodded gracefully and then turned to address Frances.

Beau recognised the sign of his dismissal and, pulling Eliza’s chair back, he offered her his arm and they left the room together.

Once in the hallway, out of his mother’s earshot, he heaved a sigh of relief at the same moment as Eliza did.

They turned to look at each other, and as their eyes met, they chuckled.

Still grinning, they headed for the stables.

By the time Eliza entered her bedchamber to change for dinner, her cup of contentment was brimming. It had been a wonderful day. She had enjoyed every minute—apart from the awkward conversation with Lady Harting at breakfast, when Beau had seemed to forget her very existence. After that, he had focused his attention on her. She had not had to share him with Harriet Whitlow—only with the horses.

They had spent several hours in the stables. He had examined Whisper and approved of her mare. The same could not be said for all of Lord Harting’s horses. Those bought under Beau’s recommendation were sound, but her uncle had added others, which Beau dismissed as showy beasts that had cost his stepfather too much.

When they had exhausted the contents of the stable, he fulfilled his promise and took her out in his curricle with the two bays he had owned longer. Eliza was an experienced driver, but she had never handled such a powerful pair before. Her bosom swelled with pride that Beau trusted her to take the reins. True, at first he had remained poised, ready to seize control if needed, but after that, he seemed content that she could handle them and sat back in his seat to enjoy the drive.

Sarah interrupted Eliza’s pleasant reflections with unwelcome news.

“You’ve got company tonight, miss. Lord and Lady Whitlow arrived not half an hour since.”

Eliza’s shoulders drooped at her words. “Oh no. Why did they have to visit and spoil my lovely day?”

“Tush. They’ve come to see Lady Frances, not you.”

“But I’ll be on display again. My mouth will clam up and I won’t be able to counter Harriet’s spite. I feel a headache coming on. Perhaps I should plead sick and eat my dinner in my room and retire early.”

“I’m sure Miss Whitlow would be heartbroken.”

“Hmm.”

Sarah’s sarcastic response was not lost on her. Her maid had a point. Harriet would gloat at having the field to herself, and if Lord and Lady Whitlow wanted the Viscount for a son-in-law, they would not grieve over her absence either.