A footman scurried down the pavement to fetch the Ravenwood carriage, and Eliza watched him go, mesmerized by his hurried movements as air, precious air seeped back into her lungs, revived her senses, and started to clear away the jumble of her mind.
“What’s happened?” Andrew’s tone was icy and unyielding.
“Andrew, not here.” Viv kept her hand on Eliza’s arm.
It needn’t matter what they said. She still couldn’t speak. Ashbourne’s words played out over and over again in her head.
Ugly.
Farce.
Never be in danger of falling in love.
Without warning, the tears came, hot and relentless, pouring down her face in ugly streams. The sobs came next, wracking her body until she was bent over, only Viv’s arms holding her up. Andrew entered her line of vision as she hurtled toward the pavement on a vicious sob. Viv said something, but she couldn’t understand. Her body was overcome with so much emotion, it ripped her physically apart.
Only one sound had the power to stop it, and it cut through the night like a whip.
Ashbourne’s voice as he yelled her name. “Eliza!”
Viv turned behind her. Eliza could feel her sister’s body turn against her back, likely to peer up at the steps where’d they just come, where Ashbourne likely stood. Andrew moved out of her line of sight, a sharp march to the left. But Eliza couldn’t turn and look. She didn’t want to see him. She couldn’t see him. It might just kill her.
Carriage wheels rolled to a stop in front of her. She recognized the colors, the crest, and she yearned toward their familiarity. Viv’s arms tightened, and Eliza gave a strangled sound. It must have drawn Viv’s attention because her arms loosened, allowing Eliza to spill toward the now open door of the Ravenwood carriage.
But before she made it, the sound of footsteps ringing on pavement met her ears, but it was cut off by the sound of her brother’s voice.
It sent an icy cold finger scraping down her spine. She’d never heard her brother sound so menacing.
“Stay away from her, Ashbourne, or I’ll be forced to call you out.”
Viv hustled her into the carriage, but Eliza was suddenly hit with the need to turn, to find Ashbourne.
He stood on the steps of the Devonshire estate, his hand raised in her direction as if he were reaching out for her, his face a mask of contorted pain. The man he had been speaking to in the ballroom rushed down the stairs behind him, his hands reaching for Ashbourne as if to hold him back. Her gaze skittered, searching.
Ah, Andrew. Ashbourne wasn’t paying attention to her brother and at any moment the two men would collide if Ashbourne wasn’t stopped.
But Ashbourne was only looking at her.
The anguish on his face sliced through her despair, and she faltered on the step of the carriage. Only Viv was there to press her forward, to push her to the bench where she could finally collapse. Andrew sprang into the carriage, and they were underway before Eliza could speak.
“Tosser,” Andrew muttered as soon as the door snapped shut.
“Andrew.” Viv’s tone was scolding.
“Well, he obviously is one.” He must have gestured at Eliza, but she wasn’t paying attention.
She had her face pressed to the cool glass of the window as she tried to calm her nerves, steady her breathing.
Viv’s hand on her shoulder had her starting.
“Eliza, darling, whatever happened?” Her voice was so soothing, more tears came to Eliza’s eyes.
She shook her head, not yet ready to speak.
The ride to Ravenwood House was tense and awkward, but she didn’t care. She didn’t know whether she wanted to upset her stomach or crawl into bed and never come out.
She couldn’t do either of those things, she knew. As soon as she had recovered herself, she must return to Ashbourne House for Henry. She couldn’t leave him there, but right now, she couldn’t have set foot outside of the carriage if her very life depended on it.
When they arrived at Ravenwood, Viv alighted first and pulled Eliza down with her. It wasn’t until they were safely in the house that Eliza realized Andrew wasn’t behind them.
She gave Viv a questioning look.
“He’s gone back for Louisa and Jo. God knows what they’ll do if they hear of what happened before Andrew can collect them.”
Eliza didn’t respond. She just allowed herself to be trundled into the drawing room where only a week before she’d experienced her first kiss.
A kiss shared with a man who thought her so ugly he would be incapable of falling in love with her.
She winced as the words traveled through her head yet again. She should have known. It was too much to believe a duke would actually wish to marry her. She’d thought their union had promise if Ashbourne hadn’t sought her hand for her money. That was at least something.
But this…
He had called it a farce.
Viv pressed a glass into her hands and forced her to sip. The brandy was hot and vile, but she choked it down until warmth spread through her stomach. Viv took the glass back.
“What happened?” she asked again.
“Did you see the man standing behind Ashbourne on the Devonshire steps?”
Viv nodded. “Sebastian Fielding, the Duke of Waverly.” A line appeared between her eyes. “Did he do something to you?”
Eliza shook her head so quickly the room swam.
“No, no, it’s not that. Ashbourne was speaking to him when I went to find him.” She swallowed, pain capturing her voice as she tried to relay what she had overheard. “Ashbourne told this man he’d had a plan for his—” Her voice trembled and stopped at the word farce.
Her marriage was a farce?
It was one thing for Ashbourne to not desire her. It was another to think her entire marriage, the one thing she dreamed of and expected never to happen, was a lark to her husband.
She swallowed and closed her eyes, forcing the words out. “Ashbourne said the entire point of his farce of a marriage was to marry someone so ugly he wouldn’t be in danger of falling in love with her.”
She winced at Viv’s sharp intake of breath, and the tears came again. She tried to suck them back in with a hiccupy sob, but once begun, she couldn’t stop. Viv’s arms were around her in a moment, her hand pressed to the back of Eliza’s neck until she was fully cocooned in her sister’s embrace.
Viv made shushing noises and said something about men being arseholes, but Eliza couldn’t really make it out over her own cries. Finally, the tears seemed to drain out of her, and there was nothing left but a hiccup or two. Viv eased her back onto the sofa, and Eliza carefully met her gaze.
She’d expected Viv to show concern, but instead her features were riddled with confusion.
“What is it?” Eliza asked, her voice soupy with shed tears.
Viv shook her head. “It just doesn’t make sense.”
Eliza frowned and gestured to herself. “Of course, it makes sense. I am not so naive as to believe any man would find me appealing.”
Viv’s own frown was quick. “I wasn’t speaking of your looks, Eliza. Ashbourne’s actions do not match his words.”
“What do you mean?”
Viv pushed to her feet, pacing away down the length of the drawing room.
“Ashbourne called your marriage a farce. He said he planned to marry someone so ugly he would not find her appealing enough to fall in love with her.” She paused to eye Eliza. “Those were his exact words?”