Lord Hastings stepped close to Elizabeth, keeping his voice low. “Is something amiss, Lady Elizabeth? I cannot shake the feeling that there is something you’re not telling me.” This was the closest he had ever stood to her before. And although she didn’t exactly feel flutters, she could acknowledge that she didn’t feel revolted either. Perhaps that was a good sign.
“As I said before, it’s only a slight headache.”
He slightly narrowed his eyes. “I mean is something wrong other than the headache. You’ve seemed a bit…out of sorts during this whole stay. You’re sure I haven’t done something to upset you?” Well, he was upsetting her a bit at that moment.
She cast a brief glance around the room noticing that everyone seemed to be pretending to give them a moment of privacy but doing a poor job of it. Would it have killed him to simply walk her out into the hallway to have this personal conversation? Surely they could be trusted to be alone together for that length of time? But never mind that…she hadn’t changed her mind about marrying him—especially after her little visit with Oliver earlier that day.
For a small moment, she had completely lost her head. Oliver had held her and looked at her differently and possibly even flirted with her. But that was the problem. Lately, he had seemed to think he could act in such a way with her, and then return to acting as nothing other than friends when others were around. She was exhausted from waiting around for him to wake up and realize she loved him.
But Elizabeth knew her moodiness and avoidance had not been fair to Lord Hastings. She did the only thing she could think of to encourage their relationship. “I can assure you, you have done nothing wrong…Wesley.” His name felt odd on her lips. But it apparently sounded good to his ears because a warm smile spread across his face.
He bowed with his hands clasped behind his back—ever the proper gentleman—and gave her the space she needed to walk away. “Rest well, Elizabeth.” Oh, dear. He had used her given name in return. Elizabeth felt as if she had just jumped off of a cliff and was plummeting toward her fate. Except she wasn’t sure she had meant to. There was supposed to be a rope to grab hold of. Or a ladder. Or a ledge. But no, she was falling—arms and legs flailing in the air and nothing to do but drop.
Or…perhaps there was one last resort she hadn’t considered before. A net all the way at the ground that would catch her at the last moment.
She smiled to herself and, before she left the dining room, Elizabeth made sure to catch Rose’s eye—giving her a look that conveyed her need for Rose to follow her out.
Her sister-in-law smiled and looked to the dowager. “Please excuse me a moment. I’d like to make sure Elizabeth gets settled in her room, and then I shall join you all in the parlor for charades.”
Charades.
Elizabeth turned a dripping sweet smile to her br
other and spoke loud enough for the dowager to overhear. “Oh, Carver! You were just telling me how much you’ve missed playing charades! Perhaps the dowager has some fun costumes you might add to the performances as well?”
The dowager clapped, her face brightening like the sun. “What a splendid idea! Georgia, you and Tom go fetch the old trunk of hats and masks from the nursery!”
Unfortunately, Carver wasn’t the only one throwing daggers at her over that idea. All three of Lord Hastings's younger siblings—especially his seventeen-year-old brother—looked as if they were wishing a carriage would run Elizabeth over at any moment.
Wesley, however, looked rather amused by the idea as if he sensed it was a prank directed at Carver. Perhaps he had a sense of humor buried under all that rigidity after all?
See. Marrying him wasn’t going to be so terrible.
“How much do you trust me, Rose?” asked Elizabeth, shutting the door to her bedchamber after she pulled Rose inside. Elizabeth pressed her back to the door as if someone might bust in on them at any moment.
Rose eyed Elizabeth suspiciously. “Why are you asking me this?”
“Just answer the question.”
“I don’t give answers to questions before I know all of the facts,” said Rose, crossing her arms stubbornly.
Elizabeth groaned. Now was not the time for her sister-in-law to be digging in her heels. “Very well. Do you trust me to not make a stupid decision?”
“No,” Rose said flatly. “And I don’t like the way this questioning is going, either.”
Elizabeth gaped at Rose. “No? You don’t trust me to not make a stupid decision?”
Rose blinked, unfazed. “You make rash decisions, Elizabeth. I love you, of course, but since you’re asking, I feel the need to be blunt.”
“When are you not blunt?”
Rose smiled. “When I’m pretending to like someone whom I don’t truly care about.” That was at least a little flattering. “Tell me what all this is about.”
Elizabeth crossed her arms mimicking her sister-in-law’s pose. “No. You’ve already admitted that you won’t trust me, so I’m afraid I cannot include you on the details of my plan.”
Rose groaned. “A plan? What sort of plan? I thought your plan was to get Lord Hastings to marry you? Which, by the way, was a rash decision but I’ve stood by you anyway.”
“It was not rash. I’ve given it loads of thought. And it is still my plan. But I also have a separate plan. One not at all related to the first.”