Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

F itz awoke that morning with aches in muscles he hadn't even known existed. He felt like a man twice his age as he walked down the stairs, only to be met by the entirety of his family, all with many questions and no offer of reprieve.

"Are you going to tell us what happened, Fitz, or not?" asked Georgina with a frown as she crossed her arms over her chest. They had all gathered in the drawing room, awaiting him until he finally descended. He had taken his time, both because his entire body was in pain and also because he had hoped that if he waited long enough, they all would have gone off in their own pursuits.

He had been wrong.

"Nothing happened. There was an incident on my way home," he explained as patiently as he could. "A man tried to rob me and then there was a carriage accident. I came away unscathed but for a few bruises. I lost nothing and every part is intact."

Except, perhaps, his honor.

"I sense there is more to this," Dot said, but before she could continue, a knock sounded on the door.

"Yes?" Fitz's mother called out and the butler stepped into the room.

"Lady Willoughby and Lady Eliza have come to call."

"Oh," his mother said, her lips pursing together as she tried to decide what to do. "As it happens, we are in the middle of something."

"Best show them in," Fitz said with a sigh. "They are part of this and will likely have the same questions."

He could also keep his story straight if he only had to tell it once.

"What do they have to do with it?" Henrietta asked, and he had just enough time to explain their presence in the carriage – for he knew Eliza would tell his sisters anyway – when the women in question walked in.

"Oh, Lady Willoughby, thank you so much," his mother said, walking toward her friend and wrapping her in a very rare embrace. "You saved my son."

Lady Willoughby fanned her reddening cheeks. "Oh, I wouldn't say that," she said, although she clearly meant otherwise. "Our timing was fortunate, is all."

Fitz's mother led the new arrivals to the corner of the sofa where Fitz had previously been sitting, leaving him to stand in front of the lot of them as though he was on stage, there to entertain them.

Not that he would have been able to sit still while telling this story. He tried to stand in one position, rocking from his heels to his toes and back again as he cleared his throat, but soon enough he found himself bouncing and he found the best way to contain all of the energy that was trying to convince him to run out of here and away from all of these questioning eyes was to pace back and forth.

"So, as you were saying, a thief accosted you in the middle of the street – just outside of Hanover Square – with no one else about, and then Lady Willoughby and Lady Eliza happened to come along, knock over the man, and save your life?" Sloane asked, setting her chin on her fist, her elbow resting on the arm of the sofa.

Fitz began to chew nervously on his thumbnail.

"Yes, I suppose that's the way of it."

"But that's not all," Eliza said nearly triumphantly, and a chill ran down Fitz's spine. Did she know the rest of it? No. She couldn't. There was no possible way that her life could intersect with Madeline's, and even if it had, how could the activities of last night ever have returned to her?

"Lady Eliza," he said through gritted teeth, fixing an expression toward her that he hoped was telling her not to speak another word, and yet every pair of eyes in the room likely saw his face and knew there was more to this story. "I do not believe there is any more to share."

"No?" she said, lifting a brow, openly defying him. "You were not nearly poisoned?"

"Poisoned!" Fitz couldn't be sure who said it. It seemed to be a melody of his mother and sisters all voicing their concerns together.

He sighed, resigned to his fate.

"When I was out last night, I was offered a drink. Someone was paid to try to poison me," he said, finally accepting that he had no choice but to tell the truth, for it seemed that it was bound and determined to come out, no matter what he did. "How did you know of this, Lady Eliza?"

"Baxter," she said, even as her mother tried to shush her.

Eliza turned to her. "If we are all truth-telling, then I must join in, must I not?"

Her mother seemed resigned to that logic, as she nodded slowly. Damn Munroe.

"Did you drink any of it?" Dot asked, already standing and walking toward him, but he swatted his sister's hands away.

"No!" he exclaimed. "I'm fine. Healthy as ever. Didn't have a drop."

"You're healthy for now," said Georgina, always looking for the worst possible outcome of every situation. "But that could certainly change as whoever has ill designs on you seems determined to continue."

"She's right, unfortunately," said Dot, glancing over with concern at their youngest sisters, Betsy and Daphne. "What are you going to do?"

"Do?" Fitz repeated. "Why, I am going to try to get to the bottom of this, to determine just who would want me disposed of and why they have gone to such lengths in attempting to do so."

"How do you propose to do this detective work?" Dot asked, crossing her arms over her chest, staring him down.

"Do you have no faith in me, Dot?"

"What are you going to do, charm your murderer?"

"Attempted murderer."

She rolled her eyes at him, and he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Speaking of detectives," Eliza chimed in, "why do you not hire one?"

"A detective?"

"Yes," she said slowly, as though she was talking to a child. "Someone who has the expertise to do this work."

He should have thought of that. Not that he was going to admit as such.

"Maybe I will."

"Best do it soon, before this attempted murderer succeeds."

"In the meantime," Henrietta said, "we should probably go to the country, should we not?"

"We should," said Sloane and his mother at the same time he answered, "Absolutely not."

"How could we not?" Sloane said, her mouth agape. "Fitz, this is serious. You are not invincible."

"I've escaped two attempts, have I not?"

"But you might not be so lucky next time," his mother said, her voice low and her expression grave. "What would we do without you, Fitz?"

That stopped him. He hadn't given much thought to what would become of all of his sisters – and his mother – if this plot against him was successful. He had only considered how much he had to do before his time here was done.

"I suppose we could only hope the next heir is more responsible," he said, attempting a joke, but it fell flat. He lifted his hands in supplication. "I have important work to do. We are still in the season. Parliament is in session. I?—"

"There's something else you are not considering."

All eyes turned toward Eliza – including his own. Why did she have to look so stunning sitting there, wearing nothing but a plain morning dress? It was as though the less finery she wore, the more her natural beauty shone through. Annoying.

"What is it, Eliza?" he asked before his mother turned her head to him sharply. "Lady Eliza," he amended.

"If you stay in London, it is not just you who could be in danger. Your entire family could be at risk."

He opened his mouth to offer a retort but the only thing that emerged was a sigh. For as much as he hated to admit it, she was right. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Except pack up his family and journey to Essex.

Eliza followed Sloane and Henrietta out of the drawing room after Fitz told them both it was time to pack. Just as they reached the landing, a knock sounded on the door, and Eliza hung back, peeking over the railing, out of sight, to see who had come to call.

"Lord Mandrake for Lord Fitzroy," came a dull voice that she recognized. "Or Lady Dot, if she is home."

"One moment, my lord," the butler said before leaving the man at the front door. He returned moments later, his steps quick and efficient. "My apologies, my lord, but neither Lord Fitzroy nor Lady Dot are currently available to accept callers."

There was a loud sniff that Eliza assumed was Lord Mandrake showing his displeasure.

"Tomorrow, then."

"Perhaps," the butler returned, "although Lord Fitzroy and his family may be leaving London for a time. May I pass on a message?"

There was a clicking of Lord Mandrake's tongue against his teeth before he responded, "Tell him that I must talk to him. I have intentions toward Lady Dot, and I mean to act upon them. Tell him that if he would like to marry off his sisters, I have a perfectly good offer for the first. Tell him he should put aside his dislike for me and do right by his family."

"Ah—very good, my lord. I will do so," the butler said before ushering the man out. Lord Mandrake had no idea who he was dealing with. Dot was not one to bow to a man who ordered her about, nor was Fitz the type of man who would ever let someone he disdained become close to his family.

"Eliza! Where are you?"

She put aside her musings to hurry after Henrietta, who was waiting at the end of the corridor, hands on her hips. They entered the large room the twin sisters shared, Eliza taking a seat on the edge of the bed as a maid bustled about the room, helping her ladies. Henrietta was actively participating in the preparations while Sloane was draped across one of the beds.

"As much as I love our country home, I will miss you dreadfully," Henrietta said, going through her wardrobe.

Even though she knew her argument had caused Fitz to agree to take his family to the country, Eliza hated that they were going. Henrietta and Sloane were two of her closest friends besides Siena, who she now saw so infrequently, as she lived just outside the city.

Eliza glanced over at the other bed, finding that Sloane did not seem overly concerned with their upcoming departure, her arms and legs spread wide like a star, her eyes closed.

"Sloane?" she asked. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," Sloane said from her prostrate position. "Just packing."

"You are not moving."

"I first visualize in my mind what I might need. Then it takes far less time to pack it all together."

"That is called laziness," Henrietta remarked, causing Eliza to laugh. She always wondered how two sisters could look so alike and be born at the same time yet be so incredibly different from one another.

"Respect my process, Hen."

Eliza considered how much fun the three of them – four, when Siena had joined them – had always had together, and wondered when she would next see them.

"Do you think you will be bored out in the country?" she asked, addressing her question to Henrietta since Sloane seemed otherwise occupied.

Henrietta shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure. I most often enjoy it, but then we are usually spending quite a bit of time at balls and parties and the like. With most people in London for the Season, I can imagine it will be much duller. That being said, we are fortunate that we have so many of us to entertain one another."

A snore came from Sloane's bed and a pained expression crossed Henrietta's face. "Perhaps I will be bored, after all."

Eliza couldn't help but laugh at that, and as dire as the situation facing Fitz's life was, she embraced her friends and wished them the best of luck in solving this situation quickly so that they might return to London.

At this rate, she would have no acquaintances left in the city.

Perhaps she should go stay with Siena for a time, she mused an hour later as she followed her mother into the carriage.

But no, Siena and her new husband were far too wrapped up in one another. She would not want to disturb their newfound happiness. Not yet.

Then there was her plan. She had set a goal for herself at the beginning of this Season. One that she had kept secret from everyone, even Siena. If anyone were to discover just what she was intent on accomplishing, she would become the greatest scandal of the Season without even taking action.

She had stumbled across a book Baxter had snuck into the house. Where he had happened upon it, she had no idea, but she had been intrigued as to why suddenly her brother, who barely ever picked up a book, seemed so captivated by this one.

When she stole it one day, she was shocked to discover its contents and became fascinated with experiencing the pleasure that could exist between a man and a woman. After she overcame her surprise, however, she became interested.

Needless to say, Baxter had never recovered his book.

Eliza had remained curious. And her curiosity was yet to be answered.

Although she supposed it could wait. She had gone this long without any discoveries. What was a little more time?

"What's on your mind?" her mother asked, and Eliza choked at the thought of actually sharing it with her mother, covering her surprise with a faked cough.

"Just that I will now have more friends leaving London in the middle of the Season."

"You make friends everywhere you go," her mother said, waving her hand in the air.

"Yes, but I like my friends," Eliza said. "How long do you think they will be away?"

"I suppose until they determine who is out to take the life of Lord Fitzroy," her mother said with a shiver, and Eliza felt her pang of uneasiness at the thought of someone after him. She had thought it was because she was concerned as to what it could mean for his sisters.

But what if there was more? He was an attractive man to be sure. Even if he was an utter boar sometimes.

Perhaps she could find answers to all of her problems at the same time, she mused. It just might take some convincing.

But convincing she could do.