Page 42 of The Earl’s Marriage of Convenience

They were each playing a part.

And yet there was something undeniably compelling in the knowledge that he had seen her composure falter—that she had seen through his own.

She knew more of him than Lady Molly did. Though she had spent far less time in his company.

It was an unfamiliar sensation—to be known. To be seen in a moment never intended for exposure, and stranger still, that it came from the one person who seemed to require nothing from him at all.

And that—

That was far more dangerous than anything he had yet encountered.

Chapter Sixteen

It was only by sheer willpower that Eliza kept her head in the game. What was it about Edwin that called to her? There was no reason for it. No path that could lead anywhere for either of them in this situation. And yet, as she watched him converse with Lady Molly, all she could think was that he was aligning himself with a partner who would not be his equal.

Certainly, he might think the same of her. And to be honest, she was not Langshire’s equal. She was far beneath it.

However—

Last evening, she had received a missive from her biological father. One that had placed all of her carefully laid plans in jeopardy.

Lord Carver was returning to London from his sabbatical in the country. Apparently, he had left after Edwin’s mother had broken his heart—though Eliza was not entirely certain he possessed a heart capable of breaking. No, he had abandoned far too many women to lay claim to tenderness for even one.

She was, in truth, shocked he remembered her name at all.

In all the years she had been raised by her cousins, he had never once called after her, written to her, provided for her in any way. It had always been her mother’s family who bore the responsibility of caring for a child born on the wrong side of the blanket.

And now—

Now, when freedom was so close she could taste it—

Of course, he would choose this moment to make himself known.

No good could come of it.

If the ton caught even a whisper of the scandal he could create, everything she had carefully built with Lord Langshire would crumble into dust and ruin.

As she bid Lord Langshire good evening—with the promise that he would take her through Hyde Park the following day—she entered the Hawthorne carriage and released a long, anxious breath.

Her brother regarded her carefully.

“We will not let him near you,” Gabriel said, reaching across to pat her hand.

Pere immediately wrapped her arm through Eliza’s and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Eliza felt the weight of their solidarity, their kindness, their love. She had shared the letter with her brother at once, who had, of course, shown his wife. There had been no reason to keep secrets. Everyone already knew enough—it would only worsen matters to conceal something like this.

“We have a few days,” Hawthorne continued. “And remember—just because he has stated a desire to meet with you does not mean anything will come of it. Ill-kept promises are his hallmark.”

“I understand,” Eliza replied. “And in this case, I can only hope that proves true. Though I suspect that the moment I wish it so is the moment it will not come to pass.”

“That is often the way of it, my dearest,” Lady Pere said with a soft sigh. “But you are not alone. We will be with you at all times. He will not meet with you in private.”

“But if the ton hears—” Eliza could not finish the thought.

She did not wish to give shape to the scandal it might become.

“Lord Carver calling at our home does not invite gossip,” Hawthorne said evenly, flicking a piece of lint from his evening coat. “So do not borrow trouble where there is none. He has been seen in the company of Lady Devon often enough that any connection may be attributed there. At worst, it may stir a whisper regarding her—but it will not touch you. Langshire will not think twice.”