She would go to him, she decided resolutely. She only feared that she had burned her bridges where Zachary was concerned. He had made it clear that she should not try to come back to him. He would not welcome her.
Replacing the brush on the dressing table with great care, Holly stared into the looking glass. She was pale and tired-looking, with smudges beneath the eyes. Hardly a face to compare with the alluring beauties that Zachary was undoubtedly surrounded with. However, if there was a chance that he still wanted her, it was worth the risk of rejection.
Her heart pounded violently, and she felt weak all over. She went to the armoire and searched for one of the gowns he had bought her, one of the vibrant creations she had never worn. If he took her back, she vowed silently, she would never wear a gray dress again. Finding the jadegreen Italian silk, with its stylish pointed cuffs, she shook out the gleaming skirts and laid the gown carefully on the bed. Just as she began to rummage for fresh linen undergarments, there came a quiet tap on the door and it clicked open.
“Milady?” Maude called softly, entering the room. She seemed surprised yet relieved to see that Holly was awake. “Oh, milady, I'm glad to see ye're already up and about. The housekeeper came to fetch me not five minutes ago. It seems there's someone here to see ye, an's she insists on staying till ye come down.”
Holly frowned curiously. “Who is it, Maude?”
“‘Tis Miss Elizabeth Bronson, milady. She rode here herself from the Bronson estate…why, it must be seven miles, at least, and her without a groom for company!”
“Help me dress quickly, Maude. Oh, something must be wrong, for Elizabeth to come here at such an hour by herself!” Hurriedly she sat on a chair and began to jerk on a stocking, not bothering to keep the seams straight.
In her impatience, it seemed to take forever to dress and pin her hair up. She hastened downstairs to the Taylors' receiving room, where a maid had already set out a little coffee tray for the visitor. The rest of the family had not yet arisen, for which Holly was grateful. If any of the Taylors were awake, it would have been impossible to keep them from meddling. She felt a rush of gladness as she saw Elizabeth's tall, striking figure striding back and forth in the receiving room. She had missed the girl terribly. “Lizzie,” she exclaimed.
As vibrant and beautiful and impetuous as always, Elizabeth turned and strode toward her. “My lady…” She seized Holly in a spontaneous hug, and the two of them laughed together.
“Lizzie, you look so well,” Holly said, drawing back to view the girl's sparkling dark eyes and pink-cheeked face. Elizabeth was dressed in the height of fashion, a stylish blue riding habit with a white gauze scarf at her throat, and a little velvet hat trimmed with blue-dyed feathers. She seemed as robustly healthy as ever, but there was a pinched look of unhappiness around her eyes, and her barely suppressed frustration was almost palpable.
“I'm not,” Elizabeth said, clearly eager to unburden herself. “I'm not well at all, I'm unhappy and sour and ready to murder my brother, and…” Her gaze swept over Ho
lly. “Oh, my lady, you look so tired, and you've lost weight, at least half a stone!”
“It's because I no longer have your brother ordering plates of cakes for me at every turn,” Holly replied with forced lightness. She gestured for the girl to join her on the settee. “Sit with me, and tell me what has impelled you to ride across town alone. You remember how often I told you that a young lady must not travel without a companion—”
“Oh, damn propriety,” Elizabeth exclaimed passionately, her eyes flashing.
“I was thinking more of your safety,” Holly said dryly. “If your horse picked up a stone or stumbled, you would be forced to request the help of strangers who might—”
“Damn safety,” the girl interrupted. “Everything is dreadfully wrong, and I don't know how to fix things. You're the only one I have to turn to.”
Holly's pulse surged in an anxious, unsteady rhythm. “Is it Mr. Bronson? Or your mother?”
“It's Zach, of course.” Elizabeth scowled and fidgeted on the settee, clearly desiring to jump up and pace around the room again. “I don't believe I've seen him sober for the past month. Since you left, he's turned into a selfish monster. He hasn't a kind word to say to anyone, and he's demanding and impossible to please. He spends every night with wastrels and demimondaines, and he spends all daydrinking and sneering at everyone who crosses his path.”
“That doesn't sound at all like your brother,” Holly said quietly.
“I haven't even begun to describe the situation. He doesn't seem to care about anyone, not me or Mama, not even himself. I've tried to be patient with him, but then this last thing happened, and now I don't—”
“What last thing?” Holly asked, trying to make sense of the rapid stream of words.
Suddenly a smile broke through Elizabeth's gloomy report. “Your cousin, Mr. Somers, proposed to me.”
“He did?” Holly smiled in immediate pleasure. “So you brought him up to scratch, did you?”
“Yes, I did,” the girl crowed, wriggling in joy and triumph. “Jason loves me, and I return his feelings a hundred times over. I never thought love would be so glorious!”
“My dear Lizzie, I'm so happy for you, as I'm certain your family must be.”
The comment seemed to bring Elizabeth plummeting back to unpleasant reality. “There is one member of my family who is not happy,” she said grimly. “Zach has forbidden the match. He says under no circumstances will he support a union between Mr. Somers and I.”
“He did what?” Holly shook her head incredulously. “But why? My cousin is a perfectly respectable man with excellent prospects. What reason did your brother give for his objections?”
“Zach said that Jason isn't good enough for me! He said I must marry a man with a title and a fortune, and I can do better than a mere architect from a family of mediocre origins. It's the most appalling piece of snobbery I've ever witnessed, and from my brother, of all people!”
Holly stared at her in bewilderment. “How did you respond, Elizabeth?”
The girl's face hardened with resolve. “I told Zach the truth, that it doesn't matter whether he approves the match or not. I intend to marry Jason Somers. I don't care if Zach comes forth with a dowry or not—Jason says he will be able to provide for me, and it doesn't matter to him if I'm an heiress or a pauper. I don't need a carriage or jewels or a large house to be happy. But my lady, what kind of beginning to a marriage is this? My mother is distraught, my brother and fiancé are enemies…the family is being torn apart, all because of…” She stopped and buried her face in her hands, on the verge of frustrated tears.