Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

T he dance ended, and Eliza was nowhere close to the exit. As Captain Blackwood made his way over to her, she edged in a different direction.

It wasn't long before he reached her side. "Miss Montrose, would you care to dance the next set with me?"

Eliza froze, her heart stumbling over itself. She raised an eyebrow, trying to gather her composure. "Why, Captain?"

He tilted his head slightly, his expression earnest yet a bit perplexed. "Why? Why does anyone dance? For the enjoyment of it, of course."

Enjoyment? Eliza's chest tightened. Why now? She could hardly believe he was asking her this after everything that had happened. Was it because there was no one else nearby, no one else to ask? Or was it an obligation—an attempt to be polite? She couldn't bring herself to indulge him, not when the sting of what she had learned still burned within her. "I believe we've already danced quite enough this week, did we not? Or do you not remember?"

His face faltered, a flicker of emotion pulling at the scars on his jaw. "I remember perfectly," he said, his voice quieter now. "Which is why I'm asking you again—here, tonight. Please reconsider. I should very much like to dance with you."

Eliza's resolve hardened. He hadn't wanted to dance with her, not truly—not after that first lesson. And now, standing in front of him, the weight of what she had overheard, the early morning and late-night lessons with Emily, hung heavy between them. Her voice was tight as she spoke. "Captain, I know about the extra dancing lessons this week." She forced the words out, the thorn that had been lodged in her chest finally spoken aloud.

Captain Blackwood's eyes widened, the panic in his gaze unmistakable. "How did you know about that?"

Her heart splintered. Any hope that she had misinterpreted what Adam and Emily had said evaporated in an instant. It was all true. Of course it was true. "Emily," she replied, not daring to admit she'd overheard the whole conversation.

He scowled, his brows knitting together in frustration. "I had not thought she would share that."

Eliza shrugged, unable to find the right words. It didn't matter, did it? Whether he meant for her to know or not, the truth was out.

"And because of this," he began, his voice tinged with confusion, "you do not wish to dance?"

She forced herself to stand tall, though every fiber of her being wanted to crumple under the weight of it all. "I think it's best, considering the circumstances."

"But—" He looked as though he wanted to protest, as though he could somehow make her understand. But what could he say? The truth was laid bare between them.

She met his gaze, a soft sadness creeping into her voice. "I think this is the best course of action, Captain."

He exhaled, his breath slow and measured, the resignation evident in his tone. "I see. Very well. I will respect your wishes." He bowed slightly, his formality a stark contrast to the emotions that swirled between them. "Would you like some punch?"

Eliza shook her head, her throat too tight to speak. "I believe it's a little too warm in here. If you'll excuse me, I think I'll take the air on the terrace for a few moments."

Without waiting for a response, she slipped past him, her heart pounding in her chest. The cool night air greeted her the moment she stepped onto the terrace, a welcome relief against the heat that had risen in her cheeks. She breathed in deeply, trying to steady herself as the sound of music and laughter faded behind her.

She looked up at the sky. The stars shone brightly, with only a few clouds on the horizon. The moon wasn't completely full but still provided enough light to see. A chill hung in the air, but she found herself grateful for it. Anything to cool the inferno of emotions inside her. She paced back and forth on the terrace, trying to work out the tension in her muscles and in her mind.

Why had she hoped for something different? She glanced back at the brightly lit windows. The ballroom was alive with music, laughter, and joy, but she felt none of it. Her chest tightened as she thought about the way Captain Blackwood had asked her to dance, his words carrying a weight she hadn't wanted to acknowledge.

It didn't matter. She should have known better.

She turned away from the ballroom, her feet carrying her down the marble steps and toward the garden. The torches flickered softly, casting long shadows across the paths. Couples wandered nearby, their low murmurs and laughter trailing on the wind. She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and began walking toward the sea, the familiar path offering her a small measure of comfort.

The further she went, the quieter it became. The distant sound of the waves crashing against the shore mixed with the rustle of leaves became louder. The cool breeze surrounded her. Once by the shore, she wandered up and down the familiar paths, working out her frustration and trying to understand her heartbreak. She kept her gaze focused ahead, letting the night draw her away from the revelry, from the painful reminders of what she could never have. The wind picked up and clouds gathered overhead, but Eliza continued walking up and down the shore, trying to get rid of the energy pent up inside her.

Eliza had wandered quite far by the time she realized that her path was becoming obscure. The moon, which moments ago had provided enough light to see her way to the beach, was now shrouded in thick clouds, the wind picking up louder and drowning out any other sound. The calm sea stirred to life, white-capped waves rising high.

Her dance slippers sank further into the sand as she walked along the shoreline, the rhythmic crashing of the waves matching the tempo of her racing thoughts. The chill of the wind, which had originally been so pleasant to cool her embarrassment from her face, now stung as it carried the sand with it, scratching at her skin, and making it hard to keep her eyes open.

Raindrops started to fall. Eliza gathered her skirts and ran. She shouldn't have attempted coming in this direction, she should have braved the hedge with that pesky root on the path. She attempted to climb over the rocks to make her way back toward her property, but it was quite impossible. Her ball slippers had no traction, and she slipped with each attempt.

Thunder cracked loudly overhead. The rain fell harder, drenching Eliza's hair and clothes. She slipped on the wet sand but caught herself before falling. She couldn't see where she was going. She felt lost on a stretch of beach that she should have known by heart. She turned back. She had to make it back to the safety of Captain Blackwood's estate. She would be much safer under the cover of his gardens, and she could find her way back, even if she had to go through the house to access the front of the estate.

With gritted teeth, she fought with all her might against nature's fury. But the tempest raged on, refusing to relent. The moon peeked through the clouds for a brief moment, allowing her to see the path she'd taken down. It was nearly in front of her, and then she could make her way through Captain Blackwood's estate.

Suddenly, her foot caught on a half-buried stone, twisting her ankle sharply. Eliza cried out in pain, stumbling to her knees in the wet sand. She clutched her ankle, agony shooting through the joint.

"Confound it all!" Eliza shouted over the gale. This was the last thing she needed. Gingerly, she tried to stand, but even the slightest pressure on her injured ankle caused searing pain. There would be no walking out of here.

Eliza looked around desperately, blinking against the stinging raindrops. Her house was too far to crawl back to, even if she could drag herself through this muck.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, Eliza started crawling toward the rocks. Each movement was agonizing, but she was determined to find shelter.

"Come on, Eliza. You can do this," she panted, clawing her way through the storm. The rocks were growing nearer, a beacon of hope through the gloom.

Eliza channeled all her strength and willpower, dragging her injured body step by painful step. The storm raged on, but she would not surrender. Shelter was close now. She had to make it.

Reaching for the stone steps, she pulled herself up, the exertion taking a toll as she fought against the pounding in her ankle. Eliza groaned, gingerly testing her ankle. Sharp agony radiated from the joint, and she grimaced, realizing she had twisted it badly. Gritting her teeth, Eliza pushed herself to her feet, gingerly putting weight on her injured ankle. She hissed in pain, but steeled herself against it. She had no choice but to press on, no matter how much it hurt.

She returned to her hands and knees, trying to move carefully as she pushed herself up from the bank.

Each slight movement forward was a battle, her ankle screaming in protest as she forced herself to keep moving. The rain lashed at her face, blinding her, but Eliza refused to give up.

As she stumbled through the storm, Eliza's mind raced. How long could she endure this? What if she couldn't make it back? The wind seemed to mock her, its howls drowning out her own labored breathing.

"Just a little further," Eliza told herself fiercely, even as her ankle throbbed and her body shivered from the cold. "I will not let a mere storm defeat me."

With grim determination, Eliza soldiered on, each painful step bringing her closer to safety. She would not succumb to the tempest's fury, no matter how much it battered her. She was Eliza Montrose, and she would not be beaten.

But as the storm raged on, Eliza's resolve began to waver. The pain in her ankle intensified with each step, and the wind seemed to grow stronger, pushing her back with every gust. Eliza gritted her teeth, fighting against the elements with all her might.

"I can't ... I can't do this," she gasped, her voice lost in the howling wind. "I need help."

She could hear nothing but the wind in her ears. She cried for help twice, but the call was swallowed up in the howling. Trees obscured the Captain's windows from her view. She crawled up the last step, her dress ripping on a stick and scraping her knee. This night was going from bad to worse.

Eliza closed her eyes, hugging herself tightly as the storm raged around her. She had always prided herself on her independence on her ability to face any challenge alone. But now, in the midst of this tempest, she realized that sometimes it was folly to refuse help or to venture out on one's own for the sake of independence.

Shivering, she pulled herself toward a small bush. The leaves and branches pushed into her back but gave her a small respite from the rain. She huddled closer toward it, exhausted and unable to continue moving. Cold and blackness threatened to overtake her, but she fought against it, until, suddenly, sleep felt like a reprieve from the pain. She allowed herself to close her eyes, and the darkness consumed her.