Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

" I must have this meeting, Mother. If it is not safe enough for me to go to London, then these men will come here to me. They shall not be here long, and then they will be on their way again."

"I do not mind hosting, Fitz, but will it not be odd, without women to balance out the numbers?"

"Perhaps, but it is just for a night. I meet with these gentlemen, sign some documents, host the dinner, and then they will be gone the next day. Easy."

Eliza peeked around the corner. She shouldn't be listening to Fitz's conversation with his mother, but she had been passing by his study when she had heard their voices within. When she heard "hosting" she had been interested, and she paused outside the door, just out of sight.

"I wish your sisters were here," Lady Fitzroy sighed.

"No, you do not," Fitz countered. "There is no need for them to be in the house with unattached men. The only socializing will be during the dinner hour. The rest will be purely Parliamentry business."

"Very well," his mother said. "I suppose it will be exciting for the staff." And for Lady Fitzroy, Eliza imagined, although she didn't admit it. "When will they arrive?"

"Noon."

"What day?"

"Today."

"Today! Fitz, how long have you known?"

"Since we left London. But I didn't want you to fret, so I never said anything."

"But the Cook?—"

"I already told her, and the butler," Fitz said. "Nothing to worry about."

"Oh dear." Eliza could practically hear Lady Fitzroy wringing her hands. "I shall have to go tell Lady Willoughby."

"Lady Willoughby loves company. I do not think it should be an issue. Plus, it is your house. You can do as you want, no matter what Lady Willoughby thinks."

"Yes, but?—"

"Thank you, Mother," he said firmly. "I promise that you shall barely know they are here."

"Very well," she said, beginning to back out of the room, and Eliza scrambled away, glad for the carpeted runner over the floor and her kid slippers, which prevented her from making any noise.

When she turned around, however, pretending that she had just turned into the foyer, she didn't miss Fitz's expression as he watched her, one eyebrow raised as though he knew exactly what she was doing.

She lifted her chin, telling herself to stand strong as she marched by him down the hallway.

"Good morning, Lord Fitzroy," she said, hoping she sounded normal. "Lady Fitzroy."

"Good morning, Lady Eliza," his mother said, joining her to walk toward the drawing room, where Eliza knew her mother awaited. "I hope you are having a nice stay."

Eliza continued to chatter but couldn't help looking behind her at Fitz. His eyes seemed to be burning a hole in her back, and a tremor of anticipation raced through her.

Forward or not, she was going to have to approach him again.

Unless… an idea began to form in her mind. One that had her lips curling up in glee.

Fitz had agreed to this with her only when she had suggested that she would find another to take on the role instead.

Perhaps she could work this political visit to her advantage.

As it turned out, Eliza didn't have it within her to contrive any games.

She had dressed in one of her favorite gowns that evening – a deep rose, one that her mother had suggested she should have ordered in a lighter shade, but Eliza had insisted that she far preferred the more jewel tone.

Flowers were softly inlaid along the hem of the gown, with blush pink ribbon lacing the bodice and the sleeves.

She hoped that Fitz's friends might notice her, making it easier to flirt with them, but deep within, she knew the truth – that the only one she cared about noticing her was Fitz.

Betsy and Daphne, Fitz's youngest sisters, remained upstairs with the governess when the gentlemen arrived, leaving Lady Fitzroy, Lady Willoughby, and Eliza to greet the visitors along with Fitz.

The two gentlemen arrived on horses, creating quite the dashing pair as they rode up Appleton's drive. Eliza turned to whisper to one of her friends what she thought of them but realized quickly she was alone. Strange, for her. She sighed, catching Fitz's attention, as he turned to look sharply at her.

"Something the matter?" he asked, with that crooked eyebrow that had more expression in it than most men held within their entire face.

"Not at all," she said, forcing her lips into the most demure smile she could manage. He continued to stare at her suspiciously, but she simply shrugged as she considered this the beginning of her plan.

"Fitz!" one of the gentlemen called out as they neared. "You've made a few simple signatures rather difficult for us."

"Could have sent a clerk or secretary," he responded, a wide grin splitting his face, reminding Eliza of who he was and how much he meant to so many people who also had demands on his time.

"Ah, we've missed you, Fitz," the other tall, bearded blond man said. "We also appear to be the lucky ones as you have greeted us with such beautiful ladies."

That earned a blush from Lady Fitzroy and Lady Willoughby, each of whom laughed and waved him off, while Eliza wanted to roll her eyes. Another charmer. She was pleased, however, for this could work in her favor.

After handing off the reins of their horses, the two gentlemen ascended the stairs. Eliza recognized the first, a dark-haired man with a severe hairstyle, long sideburns, and angular features.

"Lord Whitby," she said with a curtsy when it was her turn to greet him. "It is good to see you."

"And you, Lady Eliza," he said. "How is your brother?"

"He is… as prolific as ever," she said with a grin, which had Fitz snorting beside her, although he covered it with a cough.

"I see," Lord Whitby said politely, while he didn't appear to understand why the other man wore a smirk.

"I do not believe we have had the pleasure," said the second man who Fitz introduced as Lord Brighton. "I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Eliza."

He took her hand, bowing over it before placing a soft kiss on her glove. Eliza's eyes widened as Fitz practically bristled beside her. She smiled broadly. She didn't have to play the game at all.

Truth be told, while these gentlemen should be as ideal candidates as any, whether it be for courtship, for attention, or even for her grand experiment itself, there was no plan for her to design.

They were handsome, they were charming, they were well respected.

But they did not seem to capture her attention as Fitz did.

Which was as disconcerting as anything.

Perhaps her intentions tonight had been ill-conceived. Perhaps, instead of trying to cause Fitz to notice her as a woman, she should see if she could convince herself to bestow her attention on another. A man who wasn't Fitz. Who she wasn't at risk of losing her heart to.

"Shall we go in?" Fitz asked, irritation lacing his usually jovial voice. When they all agreed, Lord Brighton offered Eliza his arm, which she quickly took, leaving Fitz to escort her mother in and Lord Whitby with Lady Willoughby.

"Fitz, before we go in, I have some news to share," Lord Brighton said, unease on his face.

"Out with it, Brighton."

"Lord Mandrake is also on his way."

"What?" Fitz exclaimed so loudly that his mother jumped.

"It couldn't be helped," Brighton said, shrugging, holding his hands out in supplication as Fitz looked toward Lord Whitby for obvious assistance. "He's on this committee and didn't trust us to do this without him."

"Boll—" Fitz began, but then looked toward the women watching him before sighing and running his hand through his hair. "Why didn't he accompany you?"

"He said he had business to attend to first and would be coming from another of his estates." Lord Brighton peered into the distance. "I believe he is on his way now."

"Fitz," his mother said in obvious warning. "We will welcome him as we would anyone else."

"Fine," Fitz said, rubbing a spot in the middle of his forehead. "But keep the girls upstairs. Thank goodness Dot isn't here."

Eliza must ask Fitz why he hated the man so much. Lord Mandrake wasn't the most pleasant of men, to be sure, but he wasn't the worst she had ever met.

Mandrake had ridden down the drive toward them, as Fitz awaited with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Mandrake," he intoned.

"Ah, the warm welcome I was expecting," Mandrake said with ire.

"Well, when a man shows up uninvited?—"

"I believe that we will leave you to your business," his mother cut in, likely to prevent any animosities from spilling over.

"Very well. We shall conduct our meetings for a few hours before convening for dinner," Fitz said. "We shall see you ladies then."

They said farewell before Eliza followed her mother and Lady Fitzroy into the drawing room. She had only just taken a seat when she noticed that both women were leaning forward from the sofa, staring at her.

"What is it?" she asked, instantly lifting a hand to rub at her cheeks. "Do I have cream on my face?" She had stolen a cream puff from a tray earlier and had hoped that no one would notice.

"Eliza, I believe Lord Brighton is rather taken by you," her mother said, her chest puffing out with pride.

Eliza waved a hand in the air. "I doubt it," she said. "He was simply being charming."

"In the times that I have been in his acquaintance, I have never seen him so interested in any young lady before, including my daughters," Lady Fitzroy said.

"Here I worried about leaving London at a time when you should be finding a husband," her mother said. "Little did I know that all we had to do was come to Essex with Lord Fitzroy!"

Eliza's laugh was forced as she wondered what her mother would say if she knew the truth of what had happened between her and Lord Fitzroy – and what she hoped would happen again soon.

The late afternoon became evening, the time passing slower than Eliza would have liked, but soon enough the men appeared, tiredness in their eyes as they led the ladies into dinner, Eliza once again accompanying Lord Brighton. Lord Mandrake followed them all unescorted, although he didn't seem to mind.

She didn't miss Fitz's eyes on her, and truth be told, she could hardly tear hers away from him. Lord Brighton was chatting in her ear, and she smiled and nodded as though she was listening to every word that came out of his mouth, but the truth was, she was having a difficult time concentrating when Fitz was walking in front of her.

All she could concentrate on was the way his muscular thighs filled out his breeches, how the pants cupped his buttocks, how broad his shoulders were in relation to the rest of him, and how his strong fingers reminded her of the magic they could work.

She was so caught up that she nearly walked into the back of her mother when she and Fitz stopped abruptly in front of her.

"Let's see," Lady Fitzroy said, a gleam in her eye. "Lady Eliza, why do you not sit here beside Lord Brighton?" she said, pointing to the opposite end of the table from where Fitz had taken a seat.

"They can sit here," Fitz said, pointing beside him so that Eliza would be on his left.

"Very well," Lady Fitzroy said with an interested glance at her son. "We shall switch, then."

Lord Brighton was rather entertaining. He had known Fitz for quite some time, and he enjoyed telling stories about their exploits together, although Eliza was sure that these were only tame stories because of the presence of ladies. Lord Mandrake sat next to Lord Whitby, silent and sullen, obviously understanding that he was not entirely welcome here. Lord Whitby didn't have the stories Lord Brighton did, and when he did have the opportunity to speak, he droned on and on until Eliza nearly fell asleep.

They must have opened up the liquor cabinet because from what Eliza could tell, Lord Brighton's tongue was a lot looser than it should have been in their company. Not that she minded, for she was quite enjoying the stories, her attention captured.

The only thing that was distracting her was the pressure of Fitz's leg against hers. She had no idea whether he was doing it on purpose or if he thought that she was part of the table, but she had to admit she kind of liked it.

Lord Brighton took another sip of the port that seemed to be magically refilling due to the diligence of the footman behind him.

"Then, there was one time at school when Fitz and I wagered to see which one of us could set a particular garment waving on the flagpole. I thought for certain that I could win this one, but Fitz went out of his way to become the victor. He?—"

"I think that's enough," Fitz said firmly, putting his drink down on the table in front of him.

"Oh, but we were just getting to the good part," Lord Brighton said before Lord Whitby chimed in, "probably best not to tell that story in the company of the ladies."

"Ah," Lord Brighton said, sitting back in his seat as though he had forgotten just who he was sitting with. Eliza supposed that could be forgiven since the three women who were present were not exactly the most proper of ladies to have ever made his acquaintance.

"I don't mind," Eliza said, knowing that she was probably pushing it too far, but she had an indescribable need to learn more of what lengths Fitz had gone to. She had a feeling it involved a woman. Why she wanted more information about Fitz with another woman, she had no idea, but it was like some perverse need to know more.

"You should," Fitz said, but that wasn't what caused her to stop talking. It was his hand, which had come under the table and gripped her thigh.

Gripped it high enough to have her swallowing hard in surprise.

"Lord Whitby, why do you not tell us about your land?" Lady Fitzroy said. "I hear that you came into an unexpected inheritance recently."

"Why, yes, I did," Lord Whitby said as he began rambling on, only Eliza couldn't have repeated anything he spoke about.

She was far too focused on Fitz's hand.

And the way it was moving up her leg.