“Excluding present company, of course,” Eliza added meaningfully, with a nod to Somerset. Margaret turned to regard him, as if she planned to evaluate his intelligence right there and then.
“I beg you spare me whatever conclusion you reach, Miss Balfour, for I feel sure you are not likely to flatter me,” Somerset said, voice serious, but eyes humorous. He turned to Eliza. “I agree that Lady Somerset has a good mind, and a great deal of common sense, although, if I can ever offer any assistance . . .”
Eliza hesitated. She had once again refused Mr. Walcot’s suggestion that her father, brother—or any man at all—might be better suited to overseeing the lands, and she worried that accepting assistance now would amount to capitulation. On the other hand, such a conference with Somerset—their heads bent closely together, going over accounts—might have its own appeal . . .
“That is very kind,” she said. “The lands at Chepstow, in particular, are a little confusing.”
Somerset frowned thoughtfully.
“Perhaps you would be better off consulting my brother-in-law on Chepstow,” he said, “for the lands border with his own.”
Since Eliza heartily disliked Selwyn and since Selwyn would undoubtedly resent such a consultation after all the unpleasantness surrounding the will, this was an unwelcome suggestion.
“A wonderful thought,” Eliza said mendaciously. “I shall certainly do so at our next meeting.”
“You may do so today,” Somerset said, “for he has accompanied my sister on a visit to Bath—there they are now!”
Eliza turned and saw, with dawning dread, that they were indeed being approached by Lord and Lady Selwyn.
“Lady Somerset!” Selwyn boomed. “How wonderful to see you!”
They exchanged bows and curtseys and Lady Selwyn made a point of looking Eliza overtly up and down.
“We were so worried to hear of your ill health, my lady,” she said with transparent insincerity. “But I see now we need not have. You look as fine as five pence!”
She made it sound an insult and Eliza flushed. The silk had been a mistake.
“I had not realized you were visiting Bath,” Eliza said.
“Oh, just for the day,” Lady Selwyn said, with a sharp smile. “As soon as I heard my brother intended to reside at an inn for a fortnight, I knew it my sisterly duty to come and fetch him away!”
“My sister believes the Pelican to be some sort of hell,” Somerset said to Eliza. “But I am quite happy there. It is close to my lawyer, my agent and all my lands.”
“As is Sancroft!” Lady Selwyn insisted. “And you will be amongst family. Here you know nobody except Lady Somerset.”
“You are forgetting Miss Balfour,” Somerset said.
“How remiss of me,” Lady Selwyn said, resting her cold eyes upon Margaret for a moment, before seeming to dismiss her existence entirely. “You ought at least return with us for a short visit—the girls would be delighted to see you again.”
At the mention of his nieces, Somerset visibly softened.
“And I hear . . .” Selwyn said, leaning in as if he were about to import a great secret, “that Cook is preparing veal tonight.”
He gave a significant nod. Somerset laughed.
“I do like veal,” he said.
Eliza looked on, frozen. The Selwyns were going to take him away! He had only just arrived, he had only just begun to act normally in Eliza’s presence, and now, after only one day of the promised fortnight, the Selwyns were going to take him away. For a visit to begin with, perhaps, but Lady Selwyn’s self-satisfied expression told Eliza that once Somerset was in his sister’s home, he would not be returning.
“Come, Lady Somerset, you must add your entreaties, too,” Lady Selwyn said. “Surely you will agree that Somerset ought not be dining alone at such a place? It would be far too tragic.”
Eliza could not let it happen. The old Eliza might have done, might have meekly accepted her fate no matter how unhappy it made her, but the new Eliza would not.
“In truth,” Eliza said impulsively, “I was about to ask—to invite Somerset for dinner at Camden Place, to introduce him into society a little. Tonight.”
To counteroffer in such a way was impolite, and Somerset’s brows snapped together while Lady Selwyn’s eyes flickered very obviously down to Eliza’s black gown but Eliza plunged on.
“Now I am ten months into my mourning, my mother has suggested I ought host a few quiet dinners at home—just five or six close friends, nothing in the least formal.”
Her mother had recommended no such thing, but if Mrs. Balfour, the highest stickler imaginable, felt it acceptable, then surely Somerset could have no objection.
“I should not, of course, like to deprive you of a visit to Sancroft,” Eliza added. “But if it is dining alone that Lady Selwyn wishes you to avoid . . .”
Somerset’s brow cleared.
“How fortuitous,” Lady Selwyn said silkily. “May I ask who else is attending?”
Eliza stared at her, stricken.
“Why, of course, our very dear friends . . .” she began, mentally flicking through all the persons she could hope to depend upon for a dinner party that very evening and landing, unfortunately, upon . . . “The Winkworths! Our neighbors. And of course, also the, ah . . .”
“Melvilles,” Margaret said smoothly.
“The earl?” Lady Selwyn demanded.
“In Bath?” Selwyn sounded thunderstruck.
“Yes—they are recently arrived,” Eliza confirmed, trying not to sound alarmed herself. Somerset’s brows had re-furrowed. Blast. Did Margaret have to say the one family Somerset seemed already to dislike? The only persons of their acquaintance with whom Somerset must certainly not want to dine!
“And we are serving veal, too,” she added desperately.
“I should be delighted to join you,” Somerset said. “And my sister can rest easy that I am not to be abandoned to the tables of the Pelican.”
Eliza smiled in relief. There was a pause as the Selwyns and Somerset looked at her expectantly. Oh.
“We would have of course invited you to join us, had we known you were visiting,” Eliza said reluctantly. “It is a shame you are returning to Sancroft tonight.”
It was not a shame.
“Why, that is easily resolved!” Lady Selwyn said. “We shall simply delay our return until morning—the Pelican can easily accommodate us.”
“A wonderful suggestion, my dear,” Selwyn said, and he had stolen Eliza’s smile. “What time shall we arrive?”