Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Three in the morning, good God. Eliza groaned loudly, walking into the kitchen, which was still filled with servants as they cleared up the dishes from dinner and the refreshments earlier. The ball was still not over, almost half the guests still present and dancing as if the night had just started.

She failed to understand where they found the courage to have such an exhausting routine night after night, but she promptly remembered that none of them had been awake since the wee hours of the morning.

Eliza had been, though. She had woken up at first light and made sure all the preparations for the masquerade ball were underway, with nothing left behind. She had been on her feet all day with very little sleep, and the night was still not over. Not for several hours, at least.

“Are you okay?” Lara whispered from behind, and Eliza turned to look at her kind face.

She shook her head, too tired to speak.

“My dear,” Lara sighed, “who asked you to volunteer to be the last one to fall asleep amongst the servants? You need more sleep than all the others since you have been working all day for the ball.”

“It is alright, Lara.” Eliza smiled, even though her legs were sore with discomfort from walking all day.

“You must step outside for a little while and rest in the open night air. I will see to anything that needs to be done here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.” Lara lovingly touched her shoulder, and Eliza instantly felt comforted.

She opened the back door of the kitchen and stepped into the gardens, which were marked with shadows.

The early morning breeze greeted her with open arms, and she breathed it in, having felt claustrophobic for the past hour after being around the ballroom. Her head hurt from the music and the noise, and all she wanted was a little bit of silence and some peace.

“If there are any ghosts or fae in the garden right now, pardon me for disturbing your sleep. I have only done so for I seek a little bit of rest myself and mean no harm,” she whispered into the darkness, staring at the line of trees ahead.

She had always believed in the existence of ghosts, fae and other magical creatures, their presence more apparent at night.

She remembered her mother telling her that the veil between this world and the magical world was thinner at this time of the morning, which was why one must never step out in fear of disturbing and angering something more powerful than oneself.

Eliza had followed that staunchly to this day, and whenever she needed to step out into this part of the night, she loudly apologized.

Her eyes met with an empty bucket, placed by the wall, and she quickly upturned it to use as a stool. As she sat down on the uncomfortably cold metal, she wished she had not volunteered to sleep last. She knew she would only be getting one hour to sleep or perhaps even less than that, and she would have to be up rather early, even tomorrow.

Aunty Beatrice was never going to give her a break.

However, her only comfort was in knowing that despite being up, the family would easily be asleep till noon, and she just might get the chance to go about her chores slowly, even finding time between them to catch a few minutes of sleep here and there.

She would need that to be able to survive tomorrow before she could comfortably greet her bed and fall asleep for hours. The cold breeze wafted through her face and her hair, making her feel even more comfortable.

Sleep touched her eyes, and she closed them, leaning against the wall behind her. The handle of the bucket bit into her leg, but she hardly cared about the discomfort when sleep was twinkling by her with such sweetness.

She breathed in deeply, and before she knew what was happening, a darkness overtook her senses, and she stumbled into a deep, deep sleep.

***

The wall was breathing.

That was the first thought that came to Eliza as she opened her eyes, unsure of where she even was. She remembered sitting down on the upturned bucket, leaning against the wall until falling asleep just like that.

The coldness of the night was replaced by warmth, and she felt cozy under the thickness of the coat placed upon her. An all too familiar scent of cinnamon and spice greeted her nostrils, and Eliza finally woke up with a start.

It was not the wall but the handsome stranger who was breathing, his arms casually wrapped around Eliza as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

She looked up, realizing she was seated comfortably beside him, almost clinging, and till just a few moments earlier, her head had been resting on his shoulder as he cradled her like a child.

His black coat, which smelled distinctly like him, was draped over Eliza, keeping her protected from the coldness of the night.

How long had she been asleep? Was the ball over? Had someone noticed her absence?

Questions invaded her mind as she became worried, hoping that no one had been able to see her here. Especially with him.

Her movement might have alerted him since his eyes jerked open immediately and Eliza was once again met with those russet-coloured irises, their colour so beautifully dark that, for a second, she forgot everything she had been worrying about.

“You are awake.” He broke the spell.

“What am I doing here?” She jumped up from beside him, and he did not stop her.

She looked around, realizing they were in the garden alcove, her worries calming down slightly. Hardly anyone from the guests would saunter into the alcove, and the servants certainly had no time to be afforded the luxury of midnight walks to the alcove in the middle of the ball. She hoped that had been the case and no one had happened upon them.

“Did you have a good sleep?” He asked his own question, her concerns going unanswered.

“I asked you, what am I doing in your arms when I remember falling asleep against the wall on the bucket? Did you bring me here? And if you have, who asked you or allowed you to do such a thing?”

He stood up as well, his tall stature and masculine figure intimidating her, but Eliza stood her ground. She was not going to let him consume her senses this time as he had done earlier, especially after the conversation they had on the staircase. Part of her was glad he was not bringing up the subject again.

“You seemed rather uncomfortable sleeping on the bucket with your head turned to the side. I figured this might be more comfortable, considering you absolutely do need sleep, and you leaned onto my chest yourself and placed my coat over you. I simply stayed still so you could continue sleeping for even I can see that you obviously need it.”

“You should never do such a thing again.”

“I was only trying to help.”

Eliza knew he was right. She would never have been able to sleep comfortably on the bucket, and even if she had slept, she would have woken up with soreness in her neck and her body.

Sleeping over the handsome stranger had allowed her to have a comfortable enough sleep and she felt slightly fresh, ready to go about her chores once again.

“Thank you,” she sighed, trying to smile, “You did a kind thing, and I must thank you for being such a gentleman. Now, if you will excuse me, I have chores to attend.”

She should have waited to hear his reply, but the situation had filled her with enough embarrassment for one lifetime, and she did not think she could even face him.

Instead, she dashed back towards the kitchen and entered the house from the back, Amelia standing in front of her. Eliza’s heart almost jumped out of her chest at the sight of her friend, her breathing ragged.

“Where have you been?!” Amelia asked, clearly exasperated as her slightly thick country accent became more prominent than usual.

“Right here.” Eliza knew Amelia could see through her lie, but she was glad her friend did not press for details.

“Lady Leicester has been asking for you for quite some time. I gave her the excuse that you were seeing to the preparations of the bedchambers for those who wish to nap right here and will be with her shortly.”

“Oh, thank you, Amelia.” Eliza smiled, clasping her friend’s hand in gratitude. “Can you tell me where she is?”

“Her private parlour.”

Without wasting another second, Eliza ran straight from the kitchen towards Aunty Beatrice’s private parlour, not wishing to anger her any more than she must have already been angered over Eliza’s absence.

Eliza knew Beatrice had the tendency of causing drama at the slightest bit of her faults, and she would do the same right now. Despite that, the nap allowed her to take all of it.

Eliza knocked on the door and entered, finding Aunty Beatrice sitting regally on the sofa, her loud, plum-coloured dress spread all around her. The fact that she was resting comfortably only indicated that the party must have been over, everyone returning to their homes or already asleep.

“Where were you, Beth?” Aunty Beatrice raised her voice only barely, but Eliza flinched at the coldness in her tone.

“Seeing to the bedchambers for those who might wish to sleep here, My Lady.”

“I do not care!” she shouted, “When I have been asking for you, you must leave everything else and rush immediately to me.”

“I will make sure I do just that in the future.”

“Good,” Aunty Beatrice sighed, finally calming down a little. “I need you to go straight up to Victoria’s bedchamber and see to her. She had a little too much to drink and might need some attention or some help, so you should attend to her personally.”

“At once, My Lady.”

Eliza knew this only meant that Aunty Beatrice did not wish the other servants to see Victoria in such a condition or make a fool out of herself in her drunken state.

The servants were bound to gossip, but it was not something hidden from the ton. Victoria’s drinking problem was known to everyone in both the country house and the London estate, but no one dared mention it due to her parents. Despite that, Eliza could sense how Aunty Beatrice still wanted to be as discreet as possible.

She entered Victoria’s bedchamber, and just as she had expected, Victoria lay on her bed appearing entirely dishevelled when just a few hours ago she had appeared to be the perfect young lady. Without saying a single word, Eliza helped Victoria stand up as she moaned in protest but quietly listened to Eliza.

“You must keep standing,” Eliza said, quickly undoing the buttons on her gown and taking it off.

Once the gown was off, she undid the corset and removed it along with the trousers and petticoat she was wearing underneath. With everything gone, Eliza helped Victoria slip into a silk nightgown and wiped her face and hands with a washcloth as if Victoria was not a woman her age but a child instead.

Once everything was done, Eliza took Victoria back towards her bed and helped her get in, tucking her in comfortably. However, rather than leaving her there, Eliza sat down beside her, not wanting to leave her cousin alone until she was fast asleep.

That was the least she could do.

Victoria turned around and faced Eliza, her eyes half closed with sleep and the alcohol in her body. Eliza only hoped she did not puke since it would only mean she would have to clean up after Victoria, and Eliza was too tired to indulge in such strenuous work at this hour.

“Beth?”

“Yes?

Victoria laughed loudly, her eyes opening and closing.

“That is not even your name,” Victoria said, “but you are Beth now.”

Eliza felt hot daggers being stabbed into her chest, but she stayed silent, not taking the bait Victoria wished for her to take. It was not the first time Victoria was saying something mean to Eliza, but she only needed to show that she did not care. The best thing to do was keep her head held high and not react to any insult thrown her way.

“You must go to sleep, Lady Victoria.”

“I sometimes laugh, Eliza,” she stuttered out, her words overlapping one another, “I laugh at how you used to have it all since you were just a little girl, and now you are nothing but a servant who empties my chamber pots.”

Eliza stayed quiet, forcing herself to stay silent even as tears glazed her vision.

“Such a sad, sad life.”

Victoria fell asleep only moments later, and Eliza finally allowed the tears she had been controlling to fall out of her eyes. If it had not been for the handsome stranger who had forced her to remember her true identity tonight, Victoria’s words would not have felt this scalding. Now, with her truth just beneath her fingertips, it hurt her even more, and she had no control over her feelings.

She quickly stood up and exited Victoria’s bedchamber, closing the door behind her. It was almost morning, and the house was finally falling asleep, the chores that needed to be completed already done.

Eliza ignored all else and made her way to the attic, opening the door as silently as she could. She simply needed to be alone right now and perhaps find some moments of sleep-induced peace in her heart.

As she stepped inside, her eyes fell on the tiny package placed just beside her open window. Eliza walked closer, noticing that the package contained a soft pillow filled with goose feathers, a beautiful mirror, and several sweets and edibles, which she knew were both delicious and expensive. She looked at the gifts that had been left for her, a small note attached to them, ‘From your fairy godmother.’

Fairy godmother? Who could it be that had suddenly decided to send her gifts? She felt sceptical, unsure if this could simply be a trap by her aunt, uncle, or one of her cousins to somehow cause her more damage.

What was even more horrifying was how someone had entered her room to place the gift. However, the placement of the gift right beside the open window was an indication that whoever the intruder was had come through the gardens.

“But who is it?” she whispered, looking down from the window. Only a large vine ran beside it, which was supported by a thin stem. If someone had climbed it, they had to be someone both very young, almost weightless, or extremely agile.

Should I be accepting these things?

Her heart truly wished her to, as her mouth salivated at the sight of the sweets just waiting for her to be eaten. Her mind was against it, though, slightly scared of the consequences this might lead to. What if she got in trouble?

She was entirely confused and even slightly scared but still grateful, popping one of the sweets into her mouth. The sugary sweetness melted onto her tongue, and she smiled, still unable to believe how this could even be possible.

Despite that, she thanked God for whoever had suddenly decided to bless her with such pretty things, and she knew that the happiness she felt at this moment would help her get through this day.

Only she knew the amount of courage she needed to face everything waiting for her already. She stared at her tired reflection in the looking glass and quickly turned her frown into a smile, not wanting the mirror to find her unhappy.

She needed to find her happiness herself. And now, she was going to do just that.

***

Henry had not been able to believe his eyes. For a few initial minutes, he had been certain that it was just the brandy speaking, creating hallucinations before his eyes. However, when he rubbed his eyes thoroughly and looked again, the scene had not changed even a little.

Eliza had still been there, comfortably asleep while being wrapped in the arms of the stranger from the party. When Henry had seen the man enter the ballroom, throngs and throngs of young women attracted to him almost immediately, he had sensed trouble.

The trouble had only intensified when he had easily overtaken Edgar at the poker table, dealing the winning hand and taking all the money as if it was the easiest thing he had ever done.

What confused Henry the most was how the man refused to reveal his identity, give anyone a name, or simply even take off his mask. Everything about him felt like a perfectly crafted charade, as if an image was being set up. He was not himself but someone else, but that was not Henry’s concern. His concern was Eliza and what she had been doing in the man’s arms.

“My Lord?” His butler forced him out of his thoughts, and Henry looked up questioningly. “The men you called for have arrived.”

Henry had called for some of his most trusted advisors to have them look into the stranger’s identity because he was not going to let this go unnoticed.

He quickly explained the details to the three men he had called and dismissed them once he was done, his mind unable to shake the image of Eliza wrapped in his arms.

He had always assumed that she only said no to his marriage proposals because she was not interested in marriage at all.

The thought that she might someday agree – especially since he had promised to make a lady out of her again – had given him hope, but that one image had shattered all hopes.

She was supposed to be unattainable. For him and anyone else.

It angered Henry immensely that she would choose to be this close to a man who wasn’t him, but watching the two of them reminded him that he had competition, indeed.

He had no choice but to keep a closer eye on the stranger and Eliza, making sure they never met again. His intentions were still unclear but certainly not noble, and Henry was not going to let this stranger enter and take Eliza away from him. No man was going to have her, but he himself, and now he simply needed to make sure of that.