Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

" W here is Uncle?" Elizabeth asked as she entered the breakfast room the following morning. The sun streamed through the tall windows, casting a warm glow over the scene. Her aunt Petunia and Peggy were already seated, enjoying their morning meal, while Anna was helping herself from the sideboard.

Elizabeth joined her cousin at the sideboard, selecting a plate and casting her eyes over the spread.

"He was summoned to the House of Lords by Lord Chamberlain," Petunia replied, buttering a piece of toast with measured precision.

As Elizabeth moved toward the table, she couldn't help but smile widely at the sight that greeted her. Right in the center was a decadent cheese platter, arranged with care and gleaming invitingly in the morning light.

"I see you haven't been to the kitchens yet, Peggy," Anna teased, recalling her sister's mock threat to banish cheese from the menu the previous night.

"Consider it a wedding present," Peggy said, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Do you never tire of cheese?" Petunia chuckled, shaking her head in mild disbelief.

"She never did," Anna laughed as she sat down, her plate piled high. "Lizzy constantly smelled like cheese growing up. She was always eating it."

Elizabeth smiled fondly at the memories. Anna, two years her senior, had always taken a playful jibe at her childhood obsession, while Peggy, four years her junior, had teased her mercilessly as well.

"You must have been a stinky child, Lizzy," Peggy teased, casting a glance at the cheese platter with mock disgust.

"Cheese smells glorious, " Elizabeth said, taking a generous portion of the mild cheddar and inhaling deeply before heaving a satisfied sigh.

"Perhaps Father should have offered a cheese factory as your dowry," Anna quipped, earning laughter from both Peggy and Petunia.

"Indeed," Peggy guffawed, just as the quiet morning was interrupted by a commotion from the hallway.

"Oh, my babies are back!" Anna exclaimed with delight, already knowing the cause of the noise.

"No wonder the house has been so peaceful," Elizabeth said with a wry smile as the culprits bounded into the breakfast room.

Anna's two beloved dogs—a tiny, grey pug and a large black Newfoundland—barged in with their usual exuberance. The contrast between the two animals never failed to amuse Elizabeth. She had long ago taken to calling them "the Pea" and "the Cannonball."

"They were walked quite early today," Petunia observed calmly between bites of her toast, though she kept a wary eye on the pug, knowing all too well his antics during meals.

"No, no! Titan, not my sausages!" Peggy cried as the pug, ever the mischievous one, leaped onto the table and made a bold move toward her plate.

Titan had a notorious reputation for his audacity at mealtimes, often seizing whatever food took his fancy. His behavior was met with indulgence from Anna, who merely laughed as Peggy wrestled with the little creature for her sausages.

"Titan!" Anna called at last, and the pug, as if understanding he had pushed his luck, promptly scampered to his mistress's lap, where he was rewarded with even more sausages from her plate.

"You really should teach that dog some manners," Petunia scolded mildly, though her tone held little weight against Anna's adoration for the little grey creature.

"He only wants breakfast too," Anna defended with a grin, scratching Titan's ears. "Don't you, darling?" she cooed, and the pug barked happily in response, wagging his curled tail.

While Titan wreaked his usual havoc, Plato, the Newfoundland, moved with far more dignity. He padded quietly over to Elizabeth's side and sat by her feet, his gentle eyes waiting patiently for a treat.

"Now, there's a good boy," Elizabeth murmured, tossing him a piece of sausage from her plate. "Would you like some cheese as well?" she asked, scratching his thick fur. "If only certain dogs could be as refined as you, Plato," she added pointedly, casting a sidelong glance at Anna.

"You're going to hurt Titan's feelings, Lizzy," Anna chided playfully, covering the pug's ears as though he might understand the slight.

Elizabeth laughed. "She speaks the truth, Anna. That little thing on your lap needs some serious etiquette lessons from Plato," Peggy chimed in, eager to support her sister in their ongoing rivalry with Titan.

"Perhaps I can teach him a lesson or two," Aunt Petunia suggested, her tone light but firm.

Peggy let out a snort, trying to suppress her laughter.

"What is that supposed to mean, child?" Aunt Petunia's eyes narrowed suspiciously as she turned her sharp gaze on Peggy.

"Nothing, Aunt Petunia," Peggy replied with exaggerated innocence, shaking her head in an attempt to look serious.

"You're lucky. I would have asked you to stay behind from today's shopping trip," Petunia said with a satisfied nod, clearly enjoying her small victory.

"Shopping?" The room echoed with three voices at once, though Peggy's rang the loudest, nearly bursting with excitement.

"What shopping, Auntie?" Elizabeth asked, her curiosity piqued but tempered with caution.

"Why, for your trousseau, of course. What else?" Aunt Petunia replied, as though the matter was already settled.

Elizabeth's heart sank slightly. "I hardly think that necessary, Auntie. It's an unnecessary expense and will only strain our finances." She could already feel the weight of the responsibility on her shoulders.

Petunia, however, would have none of it. "Your uncle has already given me some funds. I split it in two and returned half to him. The rest I've supplemented with my own savings. It won't be too much of a strain on him," she said with a gentle but decisive tone.

"Oh, Auntie, I couldn't possibly—" Elizabeth began again, her words filled with protest.

"I will hear none of it," Petunia cut her off sharply, her voice firm but kind. "I have only three nieces in this world that I adore, and I am not about to marry any of them off without a proper trousseau."

The depth of her aunt's thoughtfulness brought a sudden swell of emotion to Elizabeth's throat, and she felt her eyes prickle with unshed tears. Despite her earlier reluctance, she was deeply touched by the gesture.

"Thank you, Auntie," she whispered, reaching out to squeeze her aunt's hand in gratitude.

"Now, eat up, all of you," Petunia urged. "We have a day of shopping ahead, and I'll not have you fainting from hunger before we even begin."

Peggy, ever the excitable one, gave a delighted squeal, her earlier irritation over Titan's antics entirely forgotten.

Despite the uneasy circumstances surrounding her impending nuptials, Elizabeth found the shopping excursion a welcome distraction. It wasn't often that they indulged in new clothes, and she couldn't deny the small flicker of joy that came with selecting fine fabrics and elegant designs.

Their aunt had even insisted that Anna and Peggy choose dresses for the wedding, a task they took up with great enthusiasm.

"Now, Lizzy, for your morning dresses—would you prefer pastel pinks, greens, or blues?" Aunt Petunia asked, her hands resting on an album of swatches the modiste had handed her.

Before Elizabeth could respond, a voice emerged from a nearby chamber. "The pinks would look lovelier on the younger ladies, don't you think?"

Elizabeth turned to see a striking blonde woman with piercing green eyes enter the room, moving with a kind of graceful elegance that commanded attention. An attendant trailed behind her, clearly having just finished taking her measurements.

"Your order will be ready in two days, my lady," the modiste said, bowing slightly as the woman approached with an air of quiet pride.

But then the woman smiled, and the cool formality that had surrounded her seemed to soften, revealing a pleasant, cordial demeanor. "The pink would complement your bright complexion perfectly," she said, her voice warm as she regarded Elizabeth.

"Why, she could simply go for all colors," the modiste suggested brightly, flipping through the fabric swatches with a flourish. "After all, Lady Elizabeth won't be needing just one morning dress. Why limit yourself to monotony when variety is at your disposal?"

"My thoughts exactly," Elizabeth agreed, feeling a surge of relief at the suggestion. She wasn't fond of restricting herself to one particular shade, and the idea of variety appealed to her. Still, she turned to the Countess with a gracious nod. "Thank you for your suggestion nonetheless."

"I must confess," Lady Winston said with a sheepish smile, "I have a particular fondness for delicate pinks and lavender. I can be quite monotonous in my choices, I'm afraid."

"There's no monotony if it's what you love, my lady," Elizabeth replied kindly, though there was a flicker of something in the Countess's eyes—something brief, almost inscrutable—that left Elizabeth feeling a touch unsettled.

But when the Countess smiled again, warm and seemingly genuine, Elizabeth chided herself for her unease. It's just nerves, she thought. Bride's nerves, as Aunt Petunia would call them. After all, her impending marriage had her on edge.

"Well," Lady Winston continued, her tone light and complimentary, "a lovely lady such as yourself, Lady Elizabeth, could make even the dullest of colors look beautiful."

Elizabeth smiled in return, though a part of her still felt a pang of discomfort. "You're too kind."

"Your husband will be a lucky man," the Countess added, her gaze lingering on Elizabeth a moment too long, that enigmatic air settling over her once more.

Elizabeth's heart gave a slight jump. She had not mentioned her upcoming marriage, and though the scandal was public knowledge, she wondered how Lady Winston had learned of her specific circumstances. Perhaps she had overheard the conversations earlier, or perhaps word had already spread—after all, news in Town traveled with frightening speed.

The Countess bid them farewell and left, her presence still lingering in Elizabeth's thoughts even as the modiste continued assisting them with the rest of their shopping.

By the time they returned home, laden with packages and exhausted from the day's exertions, the memory of Lady Winston's odd demeanor had begun to fade. But Elizabeth still felt the echo of her unease as she prepared for the evening.

A little before dinner, she sought out her aunt, feeling the need for quiet company. She found Petunia in one of the salons, sipping on a glass of brandy, the fire crackling gently in the hearth.

"Would you care for a drink?" Petunia asked, a teasing glint in her eye.

"No, thank you, Auntie," Elizabeth declined with a smile, taking a seat beside her.

"You're no fun," Petunia pouted in mock disappointment, her lips curling into a smile. "Anna would never say no to liquor."

Elizabeth chuckled. "Well, Anna is... Anna."

They shared a quiet laugh, and for a moment, Elizabeth simply enjoyed the warmth of the room, the quiet crackle of the fire, and the comforting presence of her aunt. But Petunia's sharp eyes didn't miss the slight tension in her niece's expression.

"Are you all right, dear?" she asked, setting her glass down and giving Elizabeth her full attention.

"Oh, all is well, Auntie," Elizabeth assured her, though there was a faint waver in her voice. She reached for her aunt's hand. "I just wanted to thank you again for today. For everything."

"Rubbish," Petunia dismissed with a wave of her hand. "It's only my duty."

"But you're helping us cut costs," Elizabeth pressed gently. "And that means more than you know."

Petunia's smile softened, her gaze distant for a moment as she swirled her glass. "What your uncle has done for me over the years is more than I could ever repay him for."

Elizabeth looked at her aunt curiously, sensing a depth to her words she hadn't fully appreciated before.

"I know what it is to grow up without parents, Lizzy," Petunia continued, her voice quieter now, tinged with a sadness Elizabeth hadn't often heard. "But thank goodness, you and Peggy have your uncle. A man with a kind and generous heart."

Elizabeth nodded, her heart heavy with gratitude for her uncle. "Indeed," she agreed softly.

Petunia's gaze grew distant again, and when she spoke, her voice held the weight of old memories. "I was raised by distant relatives after my parents passed. It wasn't the best of times. Bitter years, really. But I never gave in to despair. I found love, eventually. Married. But happiness can be so fleeting... My husband passed not long after."

Elizabeth's heart clenched at her aunt's quiet confession. She had known Petunia had been widowed twice, but she hadn't known the full extent of her aunt's sorrows.

"Your uncle Sebastian sought me out," Petunia said, her smile faint but full of affection. "He was my long-lost cousin, and he became my sole support during those years of grief. When I married again, it was for convenience, and that husband too was taken from me. But through it all, Sebastian was there. He never left my side."

Elizabeth reached across the table and took her aunt's hand, squeezing it gently. "I never knew, Auntie. I'm so sorry."

Petunia patted her hand with a small smile, though her eyes shimmered with unspoken emotion. "What would we do without your uncle Sebastian?"

Elizabeth sighed, her heart full of gratitude. "Thank God for him," she whispered.

Petunia nodded, raising her glass once more. "To Sebastian," she said softly, before downing her brandy and pouring herself another.