A few hours later, Eliza woke refreshed, despite the small amount of sleep, happy to face the day. Surely last night signified a major step forward in building a relationship with Deveric. He knew her now, knew all about her—or as much as one could share in a few hours. They had their future to truly become intimate with each other. Not only did he know her, he believed her, accepted her story for truth—and had kissed her again after all was said and done.
They’d mostly talked about her and her time period, true, but he’d shared small tidbits of himself along the way, discussions of his passion for science, his fascination with the potentials of steam, his frustration that ducal duties often prevented him from pursuing more information, from experimenting on his own.
But was it enough? She still had to win over his mother. Not to mention the rest of Regency society. At least the dowager appreciated Eliza’s singing. Maybe if she just sang all day long, she’d be in like Flynn.
Grinning, Eliza threw the covers off, then immediately pulled them back on. Brr! She wished she had her electric blanket—and Elvis, the cat, who’d slept on Eliza’s feet every night, though he was technically Cat’s kitty.
“Sure, steal my feline. It’s not like he’s my namesake or anything,” Cat said once.
“Namesake?” Eliza had teased. “Your name is Elvis? Your parents must have had a cruel sense of humor, or been true fans.”
“Very funny.”
“Thankya, thankya verra much.”
People kept pets in this period, too. She’d seen dogs in paintings, and occasionally a cat or two. What had happened to the dog she’d seen with Freddy that morning? Eliza had a hard time believing the dowager would allow animals in the house. Which was sad, because, in Eliza’s opinion, companionship from an animal was one of God’s greatest gifts. Oh, how she missed a snuggly warm body in the morning, something that loved her without reservation—and never criticized her. Exactly how she dreamed Deveric would be. She’d take him over a pet any day.
There came a knock at the door, and then it opened quickly. It was still disconcerting to know servants could enter at any time.
“Good morning, my lady.”
“Morning, Betsy.”
Eliza braced herself, threw off the covers, hopped up, and ran to the washstand. She quickly washed her face, thankful Betsy had brought warm water, then ran to the fire, which Betsy had stoked up to a merry blaze.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’m so cold. How do you stand it?”
“’Tis a bit colder than many a March, but I don’t find it so bad, my lady. Virginia must be warmer?”
“Um, in a matter of speaking.”
“I brought another of Amara’s gowns for you today.”
Eliza examined the dress, admiring the intricate stitching on the bodice. This one, while still long-sleeved and fairly high-necked, was not nearly as dowdy as the first Eliza had worn. “She is too kind.”
“I’m glad she is being kind to you. She has a good heart, but she’s become so hardened, so standoffish.” Betsy clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken so freely. I love the Mattersley family; they have cared for me and my family for many years.”
“No offense to me, Betsy. I value your help in navigating the family dyn—relationships since I’m new.” ‘Family dynamics,’ which she’d been about to say, was certainly not regular Regency parlance.
Betsy hesitated for a moment. “We know much that goes on in this house.” She held out Eliza’s stays.
Eliza’s eyes flew to the maid’s. Was she implying ... did she know about last night? Eliza turned around and looped her arms through the undergarment, attempting to act calm.
“We don’t know everything, but many people speak or act in front of us as if they’ve forgotten we are there. It’s as if we’re invisible.” Betsy tied the stays, and then lifted the morning gown.
“I shall have to be careful, then,” Eliza joked as she settled into the dress. “No trysts in the garden, huh?” Why the heck had she said that? Deveric’s face flashed before her, those green eyes doing all sorts of things to her insides. Because I’m thinking about the master of the house, and yesterday’s kiss, and last night. Especially last night. What was he doing right now? She could hardly wait to see him.
“You are safe, my lady. You’ve already won us over because you treat us as if we are equals. We like how you have brought His Grace back to life, as well.”
“Back to life?”
Betsy worked on the back fastenings. “He has been so dour for so long. Since the loss—” Betsy broke off, but Eliza knew to what she was referring. “It’s nice to see a spark in his eyes again.”
“I think you give me too much credit.” Had he been so in love with his wife? Eliza didn’t want to compete with a ghost for the rest of her life. “What was she like? The duke’s wife?”
Betsy waited a moment before speaking. “Lady Mirabelle was an elegant lady, small and frail.” She picked up the brush and motioned for Eliza to sit at the dressing table. “Impeccable in behavior and manners. She did not say much, preferring to keep to herself.”
Eliza’s heart constricted. She was the opposite of this Mirabelle in every way. “Did Dev—did the duke love her?”
Betsy smiled over Eliza’s head in the mirror. “Love is not usually a part in such high marriages, is it? But, no. I do not think he loved her. She definitely did not love him. Her maid often whispered of the things Lady Mirabelle told her about His Grace.”
Eliza’s eyes widened. “What kinds of things?”
“That he was a monster of a man, a giant, fierce and rough. Of course, we did not believe her, no matter that she was the duchess. We saw no evidence of harm on her, heard nothing to indicate he hurt her. We saw for ourselves how His Grace looked after his son, his horses, and his dogs. No, most of us did not care much for Lady Mirabelle, Eliza. She drained the spirit out of all around her.”
Relief surged through Eliza. Not that she’d wanted Deveric saddled with a horrendous wife, but Eliza certainly didn’t want to compete with the memory of a perfect one, either.
“You’re so kind to me, Betsy. It’s nice to feel accepted by at least one person here.”
“Oh, you’ve won over far more than that,” Betsy said, tying Eliza’s hair back in a ribbon.
What did she mean by that?
As Eliza watched her in the dressing table mirror, Betsy’s face suddenly crumpled, fear etching its way across her forehead. “What is it, Betsy?”
“Beg pardon, my lady. I should not have said so much about the family, particularly the duke’s wife. I—I forgot my place.”
Eliza turned on the chair and grabbed her in an impulsive hug, squeezing her tightly. “No worries. Your secrets about this family’s secrets are safe with me.”
Eliza followed the hallway to the grand staircase, pleased she was finally a bit more oriented in this enormous house. Her sense of direction had never been her forte.
After descending the stairs, she made her way to the breakfast room. Low murmurs of conversation and the tinkling of silverware on china greeted her as she walked in. She’d hoped to find Deveric but was disappointed to discover only Amara, Emmeline, and Becca. At least the Dowager Dragon was absent.
Sitting down, she looked over the options on the table. There were several kinds of cold meat, but Eliza never could stomach it in the morning. She set a piece of cheddar and a chopped egg on top of a piece of hot toast, pleased when the cheese melted. Not quite an Egg McMuffin, but it will do. At least it’s not turtle.
Becca’s face wrinkled when she saw Eliza’s plate. “Eggs on toast? Is that an American tradition?”
Eliza laughed. “Perhaps. I find it delicious.” She took a quick bite, washing it down with coffee. “Has Dev—I mean, has everyone else eaten already?”
“Most people are still abed. We are rather early risers,” Emmeline said. “Mother’s already finished and has gone to confer with the cook on dinner.”
“I don’t know where my brother is,” Becca said. “Well, Deveric, I mean. Chance will likely sleep until near dinner.”
“He left.”