If any single one of the rumourmongers actually knew her, really knew her, they would have known she had no desire to marry at all. She was needed at home just as much then as she was now. She could not let her siblings be raised without love, without security, without a roof over their heads.
Well, half a roof anyway since most of it had caved under the weight of the recent snowfalls.
Darius hadn’t come back to check on them but she added that to the list of things she was sort of grateful for. Every time he came near her, he touched her. Impersonal for the most part, but his big hands were strong and sure and she secretly longed to place her well-being in them. But he obviously had his own business to take care of and it didn’t involve them. She wondered how the letter had affected him and the reason he was there. Had he taken the bait? Would he leave them be until his employer came to collect his unwilling bride? She figured the ocean voyage from America and the time to organise a wedding should buy them the time for her brother to come of age.
“I counted eight but there could be more,” Nathanial said. He had taken Darius’s words very seriously, staying awake all night long with that blasted pistol in his hand. He’d seemed to have aged five years in four short days.
“You need to sleep, brother. It won’t do us good to have you come down ill.”
“I will,” he assured her, whilst trying to smother yet another yawn.
Eliza rose from her place on the settee where she attempted to darn Ethan’s socks with freezing fingers and only a short length of thread. “You really must—”
Her words were cut short when there came a tapping on the French doors that opened onto a small terrace leading out to the overgrown gardens. It was the door Darius’s men had been coming and going via, delivering game and firewood.
Eliza didn’t bother to open the door. Her brother had found some of the spine he would need to be a duke so she let him go. She hadn’t been able to gainsay him on anything but rather than grating, it was welcome. He would require more than words and a title if he and the estate were to once again thrive.
“Hullo,” Nathanial said in greeting before stepping back to admit Darius and one of his men. She remembered him from the other day, the heavily bearded one who delivered the Christmas tree along with a stern warning about opening doors for strangers.
“Penfold,” Darius acknowledged him with a slight nod. His gaze found Eliza and something about his expression caused her anxiety to rise. He was not there to check on their welfare or take tea. She’d bet money on it. If she had any.
No, he was there to spell either their doom or give them the few more months they needed.
She stood so he didn’t tower over her so much but his presence made her uneasy. Despite the fact his cheeks and throat remained smooth, erasing the rough woodsman appearance, revealing a most handsome man, she still got the feeling she was the cowering prey and he the predator. She twisted her fingers together lest they betray her nervousness. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“I must speak with you alone,” Darius told her, flicking a glance at her siblings and then back to her. “Please.”
“We do not keep secrets from one another,” she told him, holding her hand out to stay the children when they made move to rise.
Darius didn’t argue, he merely handed her a piece of paper to read.
She scanned the document. Twice. Did the room tilt a little or did she? Her anxiety levels rose to fever pitch as a piece of her plan fell into place. “This is what Ethan gave you?”
He nodded but still he didn’t speak.
“Shall we take a turn in the garden?”
If she thought his brows rose before, they were almost lost in his hairline now. She very nearly could have laughed if she wasn’t so close to nervous hysteria. He offered his arm; she took it, needing his warmth just for this one moment.
“You’ll freeze,” were the first words he spoke to her once they were out of earshot of the others. He shrugged off his overcoat and draped it over her shoulders. His scent enveloped her as the heat from the heavy fabric enclosed her in a bubble of safety and bliss. A bubble that could pop at any moment and leave her where she’d been five minutes ago. Cold and alone.
She was always so cold. But there were pressing matters at hand. “You said my father didn’t owe you money.”
“I did not. You asked, I evaded.”
“I get the feeling you might be quite good at that.”
Darius chuckled. “Do you understand what the letter means?”
“How could I not? I am to be purchased by this Montrose fellow and my father’s debts will be paid with my dowry? How long will it take to get word to him?” Her breath held as well as the thumping beat of her heart for his answer. How long did she have until she was to possibly sell her own independence to save that of her siblings?
“It’s rather more complicated than that.”
All at once her pulse galloped and Eliza was afraid that she’d made a fatal mistake along the way. Perhaps her father had lied about it all? His final torment? “Is he already married?”
“He wasn’t when I left Boston, no.”
“Do you think he won’t have me?”
“Because of the scandal?” Darius answered her question with a question.
“What do you know of that?” He couldn’t
