Mrs. Fletcher seemed to not have a care about the matter, and once Eliza was safely settled in a comfortable seat, Mrs. Longbottom and Mrs. Fletcher brought out their work as if they planned to do it directly in front of her. Eliza couldn’t help but stare. She’d never seen two women tackle an endeavor with such precision and focus.
“Now then,” Mrs. Fletcher said as she gathered a gown of such deep green, Eliza imagined a forest would spring from it at any moment. “Tell us about yourself then, Your Grace. We were so pleased to hear of your arrival at the manor house.”
Eliza wrapped both of her hands around the cup of tea, unaware until she’d put her feet up as to how tired she seemed to be that morning. Perhaps it was all the walking and swimming she’d been doing the last few weeks. Viv would be appalled if she saw the number of freckles that had appeared along her checks, to say nothing of the tan that had crept over her skin. It was probably best that no one knew just how much of her it covered.
“I wasn’t aware that my arrival had caused such a flutter in Glenhaven.”
Mrs. Longbottom laughed. “Oh, of course it did, Your Grace. There isn’t much that happens here in the village, and it’s such a wonderful reprieve when news comes down from the manor house.”
“Are you from a family in London then?” Mrs. Fletcher adjusted the gown on her lap, picking up a needle with careful dexterity.
“My family is the Darbys, and my brother is the Duke of Ravenwood.”
Mrs. Fletcher nodded politely as Mrs. Longbottom gave her a hopeful smile as if whatever Eliza had to say would be the most interesting thing she would hear that day.
Eliza continued as it seemed she would be the one doing the talking that morning while the seamstresses applied their needles to the gowns in their laps.
“I have three sisters as well. I’m about in the middle of the lot of them.”
Mrs. Longbottom looked up expectantly. “How lovely. Will your sisters be coming to visit this summer, or are they already wed with families of their own?”
Eliza couldn’t help the way her heart squeezed at the thought of Viv and the family she should have had by now.
“I hadn’t thought of it, if I’m honest. There wasn’t much time to discuss it before we left London.”
She thought back to the anguish and tears that had been her departure from London, and while she could say things had gotten better, there was still a finger of doubt that needled at her. It was clear Dax had no intention of a love match, but after his reaction to her desire for a room for her watercolors, she wondered if it weren’t something more. If she hadn’t known better, she would have said Dax were jealous or perhaps fearful of her keeping something from him. It was a preposterous idea, but she just couldn’t seem to shake it.
She sipped her tea, determined to enjoy the company of the mother and daughter seamstresses.
“I do hope they can make it. The shore is such a lovely spot to be in the heat of summer. Although I must say, the winters can be quite trying.” Mrs. Fletcher’s smile suggested she knew too well just how trying.
“Have you lived here your whole life?” Eliza eyed the tray of sweets Mrs. Fletcher had placed next to her. She’d never been one for biscuits and such, but her stomach was feeling a bit growly that morning. Dax was correct in trying to get her to eat more for her breakfast, and she would do well to remember that in future. Life at the shore meant a great deal of activity more than she was used to.
“Oh yes. We grew up at the manor house actually. My father was the steward there, you see. We had the cottage just off the main drive by the livestock paddocks.”
Eliza pushed herself up in her chair at this bit of news. “Truly? So you must have known Ashbourne when he was small.”
Mrs. Fletcher shook her head ruefully. “As you probably know, His Grace came to the manor late in the previous duke’s life. I was already married to Mr. Fletcher and setting up shop here when His Grace arrived at the manor.” She stopped in her precise stitches to flutter a hand as if remembering the moment as clearly as when it happened. “Oh, it caused such a stir. A young lad up at the manor house. We were all so happy for the duke. He had always been kind to his staff and generous to the village. It was so wonderful to see him granted such happiness.” She set down her fluttering hand. “And the duchess. Such a lovely lady. It was something out of a fairy tale.”
Eliza could picture it, a young Dax whose arrival had been heralded with such grandeur and happiness.
“Was he an adventurous child?” She wasn’t sure why she asked the question, but something about the wildness of the cliffs and the untamed nature of the ocean had her wondering what a young duke-in-training would do with such an environment.
Mrs. Fletcher and Mrs. Longbottom shared a laugh.
“His poor nanny. There was nothing she could do to keep him from trouble. He was always a spirited one.” Her eyes dimmed slightly at the end of her sentence, and she quickly picked up her needle to resume sewing.
Eliza’s grip on her teacup tightened at the sudden change of mood.
“I can imagine how lovely it would be to grow up here. I’m so glad he brought me here for the summer.”
The smile returned to Mrs. Fletcher’s face. “Oh, as are we. We were oh so worried His Grace would never find love after what happened.”
The biscuits and tea turned to a lump in her stomach, and Eliza had to set down her teacup to prevent herself from spilling it.
“Do you speak of the humiliation he suffered?”
Mrs. Fletcher let out a breath. “It was so much more than the humiliation. His heart suffered so. We never thought he would love again.”
Her smile was over bright, and Eliza had to look away, anxious fingers clawing at her throat, threatening her breath.
“Oh?”
Mrs. Longbottom was the one to shake her head now.
“He was just so in love with Lady Bethany. We never thought he would recover from it.”
And there it was.
The doubt she had sensed lurking solidified and suddenly she could touch it, taste, feel it.
It wasn’t that Dax didn’t want to fall in love. It was that he couldn’t. The damage Bethany had wrought was lasting and true, and he’d never recovered from it. He had thought Eliza capable of betrayal because he knew nothing different. She swallowed against the realization.
Mrs. Fletcher was right. She just didn’t know the truth of it, but Eliza did.
She folded her hands across her stomach, refusing to let her realization show.
After all, did it truly matter?
Dax was kind to her. He showered her with attention and showed great affection for Henry. Did it matter that he would never love her?
She didn’t know.
Mrs. Fletcher cut the last of the thread on the gown in her lap and stood, shaking it loose. It fell to the floor in a cascade of deep forest green with carefully placed cuffs and a generous curve to the torso.
Eliza shook her head, both at the beauty of the simple gown and its unrealistic proportions.
“It’s lovely, Mrs. Fletcher, but it’s much too large. I should never hope to fill it out.”
Mrs. Fletcher and Mrs. Longbottom shared a laugh and a knowing glance.
“I think you will be surprised, Your Grace. You are sure to swell more than you ever expect. It’s like that with all new mothers though. You just don’t know what to anticipate.”