The Heiress Companion by Madeleine E. Robins Page A

himself and offer again. Since Anne Ambercot was at Broak nearly as
often as her son, and Jane was practically in residence there, it was not
strange that Eliza should spend a good deal of time at Broak as well. It was
not strange, but it was often awkward.
    When Mr. Greavesey called one afternoon to deliver balm for
Margaret’s healing burns and Lady Bradwell’s ubiquitous drops, he found no one
on hand but Miss Eliza available to take them from him. After some pointed
queries it was revealed to him that Jane Ambercot, Lord Bradwell, Miss
Cherwood, and Mr. Bradwell had gone for a brief drive; that Miss Margaret
Cherwood was fast asleep, and that Lady Bradwell and Mrs. Ambercot were
closeted together, “talking of weddings, I suppose.” Eliza finished with
dissatisfaction.
    “Surely you should be with your mamma, Miss Ambercot?” Mr.
Greavesey observed in his first flush of disappointment in Miss Cherwood’s
absence.
    “I am not a child, Mr. Greavesey, at the end of my mamma’s
leading string,” Eliza informed him loftily.
    “Well, it is a shame that Miss Cherwood is not available,
since I most particularly wished to give her advice on the administration of
this salve.” Greavesey pouted.
    Eliza’s demon spoke for her: “Yes, I know she will be dreadfully sorry to have missed you....” Her
voice trailed off suggestively.
    “Will she?” Greavesey had no trouble in believing this
plumper; it had been his opinion for some time that Rowena Cherwood would,
given enough time, drop into his hands like a ripened peach.
    “O, yes,” Eliza assured him, warming to her subject. “Why, I
— no, I ought not to tell you this —”
    “O, Miss Eliza, surely —”
    “Why, Mr. Greavesey, surely you know!” Eliza cried. “Miss
Cherwood has been — but no, I mustn’t betray a confidence. I know that there is
someone she has a partiality for, and —”
    “Dare I hope, Miss Eliza?” Greavesey had forgotten the
medicine in his hand, forgotten the doctor waiting in the village for his
assistant’s return, had forgotten even the courtesy due a young lady. He sank
into a chair and raised his eyes to meet Eliza’s. Had he not been, as the
younger Miss Ambercot assured herself, such a loathsome little toad, she might
have had some compunction at this point about leading him on in this fashion. “After
all, I have the promise in me to become something of a man of substance, don’t I?”
    “Certainly, sir,” she assured him demurely.
    “It is not every young lady who can boast of such a suitor
as I,” he continued. To this statement, at least, Eliza could not take
exception (although he would not have been flattered by her agreement had he
understood her reasoning). “And after all, delightful as Miss Cherwood is, she
cannot have much by way of expectations except to continue in her present very
honorable, but somewhat depressed, condition.”
    Eliza was a trifle baffled by this statement, which she
collected referred to Rowena’s employment, but again nodded confidingly. “Shall
I tell her that you called, sir?”
    “No, no, my dear young lady, pray do not give yourself the
trouble. If you will direct me to the housekeeper or some other reliable
domestic with whom I may leave my medicines?”
    Given Mrs. Coffee’s direction, Greavesey sprang up in a
fashion startling in one of his cadaverous appearance and walked — no, strolled
briskly off to locate her.
    “Toad,” Eliza muttered to herself when she was certain he
was out of earshot. “They deserve each other!”
    Quite comfortable in the knowledge that she had sown the
seeds of considerable trouble for Margaret’s cousin, Eliza settled in for a
short nap.
    o0o
    Jane Ambercot protested, after the first five minutes of
their ride, that she really could not stand to drive on such a glorious day — if
she truly was not to be allowed to ride, perhaps they could walk for a while?
Lord Bradwell seemed a little discomforted by the suggestion; it was