yesterday evening, Elizabeth suspected the worst. ‘I assure you, I did nothing last evening to encourage the attentions of Sir Rufus or Viscount Rutledge.’ Her cheeks coloured self-consciously as she omitted the name of the one man whose attentions were most likely to have caused Mrs Wilson’s displeasure.
‘It has been my experience that a beautiful young woman does not have to do anything to encourage a gentleman’s attentions,’ Mrs Wilson stated drily.
‘Perhaps not.’ A frown puckered Elizabeth’s creamy brow. ‘Nevertheless, I assure you that I did not seek out the company of either of those gentlemen.’
‘My dear girl…’ Mrs Wilson gave a perplexed shake of her head ‘…you seem to be under the impression that I wish to chastise you for something you either did or said during the course of yesterday evening.’
‘You do not…?’ Elizabeth eyed the older woman uncertainly.
‘Certainly not. Indeed, it has ever been the way of it that gentlemen will make fools of themselves over a pretty gel.’ Her employer gave a contemptuous snort.
Then Elizabeth was completely at a loss as to why the other woman might wish to talk to her privately.
Mrs Wilson’s gaze was piercing. ‘You have been with me for several weeks now, and—tell me, are you happy in your employment with me?’
‘Very much so.’ Some of the tension left Elizabeth’s shoulders—who could not be happy working in the household of such a kind lady as Mrs Gertrude Wilson, with the added boon of having darling Hector to care for?
‘But it is not what you were born to, is it?’
Elizabeth realised that she had allowed herself to relax too soon as that shrewd gaze seemed to see right into the guilty heart of her. She turned her own eyes away to moisten dry lips, not quite sure how she should answer.
‘Come now, Elizabeth,’ Mrs Wilson encouraged. ‘It is obvious to me that your voice and manners are those of a lady.’
The fact that the older woman had used her full name was in no way reassuring either! ‘A lady fallen upon hard times, perhaps,’ she explained evasively.
‘Perhaps.’ Mrs Wilson nodded slowly. ‘I have become fond of you these past weeks, Elizabeth, and I would not like to think that… Are you in some sort of trouble? With your family, or possibly…’ she shuddered ‘…the law?’
‘Did Lord Thorne instigate these doubts in your mind about me, Mrs Wilson?’ Elizabeth’s impatience with that gentleman was barely contained.
‘Osbourne?’ The puzzlement on Mrs Wilson’s face was enough to show that her nephew had not yet voiced his own suspicions to her.
‘I assure you I am not in any sort of trouble, Mrs Wilson,’ Elizabeth said honestly.
Oh, she had no doubts that when she and Diana met again, her sister would be most displeased with her, but Diana was never cross with either of her two headstrong sisters for very long, and no doubt in this case her relief at having Elizabeth returned to her would outweigh any serious upset. She could not care less what her new guardian, the scandalous Lord Faulkner, Earl of Westbourne, thought about her escapade, even if he ever came to learn of it, which was most unlikely as Diana would never betray her sisters like that.
‘I am pleased to hear it,’ Mrs Wilson said briskly. ‘But you do not—there is nothing which you would like to discuss with me?’
Having grown up without a mother’s guidance these past ten years Elizabeth felt the rise of an emotional lump in her throat at Mrs Wilson’s obvious kindness. To the extent that she almost—almost—felt tempted to confide her present dilemma to the older woman. Indeed, only the knowledge that Mrs Wilson could not possibly continue to employ her, once she was made aware of Elizabeth’s true identity and the offer of marriage from the Earl of Westbourne—a man Mrs Wilson was personally acquainted with and who was clearly a close friend of her nephew—prevented her from doing so.
‘I assure
‘It has been my experience that a beautiful young woman does not have to do anything to encourage a gentleman’s attentions,’ Mrs Wilson stated drily.
‘Perhaps not.’ A frown puckered Elizabeth’s creamy brow. ‘Nevertheless, I assure you that I did not seek out the company of either of those gentlemen.’
‘My dear girl…’ Mrs Wilson gave a perplexed shake of her head ‘…you seem to be under the impression that I wish to chastise you for something you either did or said during the course of yesterday evening.’
‘You do not…?’ Elizabeth eyed the older woman uncertainly.
‘Certainly not. Indeed, it has ever been the way of it that gentlemen will make fools of themselves over a pretty gel.’ Her employer gave a contemptuous snort.
Then Elizabeth was completely at a loss as to why the other woman might wish to talk to her privately.
Mrs Wilson’s gaze was piercing. ‘You have been with me for several weeks now, and—tell me, are you happy in your employment with me?’
‘Very much so.’ Some of the tension left Elizabeth’s shoulders—who could not be happy working in the household of such a kind lady as Mrs Gertrude Wilson, with the added boon of having darling Hector to care for?
‘But it is not what you were born to, is it?’
Elizabeth realised that she had allowed herself to relax too soon as that shrewd gaze seemed to see right into the guilty heart of her. She turned her own eyes away to moisten dry lips, not quite sure how she should answer.
‘Come now, Elizabeth,’ Mrs Wilson encouraged. ‘It is obvious to me that your voice and manners are those of a lady.’
The fact that the older woman had used her full name was in no way reassuring either! ‘A lady fallen upon hard times, perhaps,’ she explained evasively.
‘Perhaps.’ Mrs Wilson nodded slowly. ‘I have become fond of you these past weeks, Elizabeth, and I would not like to think that… Are you in some sort of trouble? With your family, or possibly…’ she shuddered ‘…the law?’
‘Did Lord Thorne instigate these doubts in your mind about me, Mrs Wilson?’ Elizabeth’s impatience with that gentleman was barely contained.
‘Osbourne?’ The puzzlement on Mrs Wilson’s face was enough to show that her nephew had not yet voiced his own suspicions to her.
‘I assure you I am not in any sort of trouble, Mrs Wilson,’ Elizabeth said honestly.
Oh, she had no doubts that when she and Diana met again, her sister would be most displeased with her, but Diana was never cross with either of her two headstrong sisters for very long, and no doubt in this case her relief at having Elizabeth returned to her would outweigh any serious upset. She could not care less what her new guardian, the scandalous Lord Faulkner, Earl of Westbourne, thought about her escapade, even if he ever came to learn of it, which was most unlikely as Diana would never betray her sisters like that.
‘I am pleased to hear it,’ Mrs Wilson said briskly. ‘But you do not—there is nothing which you would like to discuss with me?’
Having grown up without a mother’s guidance these past ten years Elizabeth felt the rise of an emotional lump in her throat at Mrs Wilson’s obvious kindness. To the extent that she almost—almost—felt tempted to confide her present dilemma to the older woman. Indeed, only the knowledge that Mrs Wilson could not possibly continue to employ her, once she was made aware of Elizabeth’s true identity and the offer of marriage from the Earl of Westbourne—a man Mrs Wilson was personally acquainted with and who was clearly a close friend of her nephew—prevented her from doing so.
‘I assure
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