"Why do you behave as if you were bound for the gallows?" Aileen inquired of her sister for what must have been the hundredth time, having already completed the arduous journey from London to Rochester.
Isabella, beset by a headache was left at home, thus Elizabeth accompanied Eliza as her escort, counting also a young and fiery-haired lady of mischief. The truth was that Bella held reservations about Eliza's suitor for undisclosed reasons and preferred to evade his presence if possible. Undisclosed they were from her mother Elizabeth only, as Bella's sentiments couldn't be concealed in the presence of Eliza – she disapproved of the potential union with the Duke of Kent as she perceived him as excessively mature and austere for a young woman such as Eliza.
He's as stale as last week's bread, sounded Bella's words in the recesses of Eliza's mind.
"I am unwell," Eliza retorted sharply at her red-haired sister.
"Perchance it is due to your nervous disposition," Elizabeth offered, proffering an encouraging smile.
Aileen glared at Eliza and spoke with anger: "Behold, you are as pallid as the walls in our mother's chamber. And moreover, you do not even resemble yourself!"
"Pray, cease your clamour, my dear," chided Elizabeth, reprimanding her spirited progeny. "No leave has been granted you to pass judgement upon thy sister's comportment!" The audacious twin merely curled her lip in defiance, directing her gaze once more unto Eliza.
Eliza briefly closed her eyes, seeking to quell the flames of anger toward her overly inquisitive and occasionally vexatious sister, before whispering quietly: "Emmett had beseeched me for my hand in matrimony."
"Good heavens!" Aileen exclaimed, her eyes widening in astonishment."Verily! I had already thought that the whole affair was nought but a charade, with the duke amusing himself. What answer did you give him?"
"As of yet, none, for he had done so indirectly – through our father. I remain uncertain of my definitive response at present."
Concern etched Elizabeth's face, while Aileen frowned and muttered to herself rather than her sister: "I could never inflict such uncertainty upon any gentleman. 'Tis ever preferable to render and receive forthright answers rather than stumble in ambiguity."
"First and foremost, none had officially proffered a proposal unto you, and thus I would advise you to abstain from such discourse. The matter of betrothals is not always as straightforward," Elizabeth spoke sternly.
Fortuitously for Eliza, Aileen refrained from further jests and inquiries, and spoke only upon disembarking from the carriage outside Taverley Castle. "It is exceedingly chilly here," were Aileen's initial words.
Eliza remained silent, finding the castle impressive even in this season. Though a shroud of snow blanketed the surroundings, she briefly envisaged small patches of nascent flowers adorning the landscape beyond the gate. In her mind's eye, the hornbeam tree sprouted delicate leaves, forming a hedge that enveloped the entire estate. The path leading thereto was lined with stately poles, fashioning an arch upon which climbing roses of diverse hues gracefully meandered, now serenely awaiting the arrival of spring. A scene from the previous summer flitted before her eyes when she had the occasion to witness the castle in its full splendour. A wave of excitement surged through her as she imagined the possibility of possessing all this and more, redirecting her focus to the approaching individuals.
It was the Duke of Kent, Emmett Leighton, accompanied by his butler. Emmett wore a broad smile upon his face, emanating contentment. "Lady Elizabeth Price, Lady Eliza Price, Lady Aileen Price! I am most enchanted to lay mine eyes upon you once more," he said, ceremoniously bestowing a kiss upon their hands in the order of his address. He then proffered his arm to Elizabeth and the other to Eliza, and together they proceeded toward the castle.
"We could not refuse your gracious invitation," Eliza replied, gesturing toward the dormant roses. "When they bloom, they shall transform Taverley into a veritable paradise," she added. However, they had already arrived at a majestic door that resembled a portal to another realm.
The Duke smiled and glanced in her direction. "You did utter the same sentiment last year, and I wholeheartedly concur, for with their blooms, the castle does not resemble a haven for the denizens of night and hell."
"Oh, Taverley is the most splendid castle far and wide! And assuredly, you do not evoke the image of a horned creature," exclaimed Aileen.
"Aileen!" Elizabeth called out but succumbed to the duke's laughter. Her voice echoed through the grand halls of the mansion as they strolled past portraits of the duke's ancestors, making their way into the opulent salon.
"Why do you perceive your abode in such a harsh light?" Elizabeth inquired, as they were passing a large painted portrait of many of Leighton's predecessors.
"Have you not seen my dwelling from the northern side? It is all dampness and decay. We had to relocate the left wing, for the rooms there are slowly succumbing to mould, starting from the very foundations. The right wing fares no better, with its plaster cracking despite thorough reinforcement done years ago. My aunt, who resides in one of those chambers, jokingly calls it an involuntary application of face powder," he replied, a wry smile playing on his lips.
The conversation flowed effortlessly, their laughter filling the air as they exchanged stories and observations. The duke expressed his desire to demolish the castle and erect a new abode, even expressing his disappointment that the architects and restorers from Italy, who had been expected for months, had yet to arrive in Rochester. Eliza, however, offered a different perspective.
"Nay, I beseech you! Were I in your place, I would rather wait, for perhaps the architects possess a solution unknown to you at present. By the way, you mentioned your aunt. How is she faring?" Eliza gracefully transitioned to a new topic, her eyes taking in the exquisite salon fit for royalty. The grandeur of the room could rival even that of King George's, an impressive feat that left her in awe.
"She was unwell, but fortunately, it was nothing serious, merely a chill. At present, she rests, otherwise, I would have escorted you to her immediately. By the way, where is your sister, Isabella?" the duke inquired, curiosity evident in his tone.
Eliza artfully shielded her sister once again, fabricating a small tale of Bella falling ill and needing time to recover before the upcoming ball scheduled for the following week. The conversation continued in a tranquil atmosphere, interrupted only by the arrival of a servant announcing that lunch was served. They ate in silence, savouring the exquisite cuisine prepared by the duke's skilled chef.
After lunch, they ventured outside for a leisurely stroll through the castle grounds. Aileen's eyes widened as they approached a magnificent greenhouse nestled among the gardens.
"Forgive me if my eyes deceive me, but is this not the grandest greenhouse I have ever beheld?" exclaimed Aileen in awe.
"Aye, Lady Aileen, it is our family greenhouse. And at this hour, you are likely to find an exceptional gardener within, for without him, the flowers in the vicinity could not flourish. He shall undoubtedly regale you with tales of his saplings and cultivated roses, hidden away in the winter garden," the Duke remarked, glancing at Aileen with a playful wink which she understood.
Moreover, the young and spirited lady didn't require much to kindle her curiosity, and her inherent inclination to delve into matters veiled in mystery would later lead her onto critical junctures in her life. However, that was to transpire much, much later—now she could revel in the ignorance befitting an eighteen-year-old lass.
Aileen made her way toward the greenhouse, accompanied by Elizabeth. Meanwhile, her mother stayed outside, keeping a watchful eye on both young ladies while affording Eliza and Emmett a moment of privacy for their conversation. Eliza was apprehensive about this moment, for though the Duke was a good man, his intentions in this matter could be unpredictable. Would he try to persuade her? Would he compel her to marry him?
He cleared his throat and began, "Thou knowest, Lady Eliza," he spoke and then fell silent once more.
"I believe I know, sir. My father mentioned somewhat to me."
She smiled encouragingly at him, wanting to ease his burden and bring this matter to a swift conclusion. He took her hand in his large palm, his eyes as blue as the heavens, and said, "For two years I have waited with mine proposal, for you had a great chance to choose someone younger, and I wished not to meddle in the plans of your heart. I love thee, Eliza, and if you permit, I shall continue to prove my love to thee. Wilt you marry me?"
Eliza anticipated a surge of emotions, the kind she had read about in novels—blissful intoxication, a fluttering heart, or the sensation of butterflies' wings inside her body. Yet, nothing came beside the words uttered by her sister about the Duke being a stale bread and the impending notion that she, too, shall wither alongside him.
Nervously, she smiled at the duke and replied, "I deeply appreciate what you are doing and risking for me, but I need time for contemplation. I am not asked for my hand in marriage every day," she added quickly, noticing a slight crease forming on the duke's brow.
"I did not expect this situation to arise at all," she blurted out, feeling foolish and utterly witless. Other women might have expected a proposal sooner or later after establishing a closer acquaintance, but she was not one to accept everything offered to her as a given. How many proposals had she received? Five, six? She had initially given the impression that she did not wish to marry, merely playing with gentlemen's interest.
"You shall have all the time you desire," he said with a smile, though Eliza detected a hint of disappointment. She knew she had perhaps disappointed him, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Silently, they entered the greenhouse, where Aileen's lively presence brought back the animated atmosphere and set aside Eliza's apprehensions, allowing them to retreat to the depths of her consciousness. Both the duke and she avoided broaching the topic again for the rest of the day.
As Eliza sat in the carriage, her mind preoccupied and ignoring Aileen's prattling akin to a lively spring brook, she reflected on the events of the day spent in Taverley. She wrestled with her conscience, reproaching herself for not immediately accepting the duke's proposal. Elizabeth observed her step-daughter, recognising the internal struggle, but she refrained from intruding upon her thoughts, respecting Eliza's need for solitude. She knew that Eliza had always contemplated marriage and held onto the hope of finding true love, despite the rarity of such a sentiment in their time.
The nobility primarily married for connections and wealth, a fact Eliza was well aware of. She, astutely cognisant of this prevailing norm, found herself contemplating a union of convenience, devoid of the romantic fervour one might expect. The duke, despite not kindling the flames of her heart, possessed commendable qualities that could not be overlooked. Their amicable rapport, his substantial wealth, and the proximity of his relations to the revered royal family were points in his favour. Moreover, whispers of his genuine affection for Eliza circulated through the aristocratic circles. In such a context, what cause did she have for apprehension? Could another suitor offer a superior match, or would the prospects be but a mirage of heightened expectations?
However, the image of her and Emmett as a married couple stirred conflicting emotions within her. She yearned for a love that transcended social expectations, just as her parents had found. From a young age, Eliza had promised herself that she would wait for her prince, even if it meant waiting until her dying day. Though her father's voice echoed in her mind, The Duke may wed even in his fifties, while you shalt remain unclaimed. She desired children and those are not born of water and dust; and that her spouse would be a man of whom there was hardly anything negative to say, certainly presented a benefit to her.
At the age of four-and-twenty, she found herself in the fortunate circumstance that her respected father had, thus far, refrained from imposing his opinions or hastening her courtship. A marvel indeed, for in this era, societal expectations often dictated the need for young ladies to secure a suitable match at a much earlier juncture. Nevertheless, the awareness of time slipping away gently gnawed at her.
In that moment, Eliza made her decision.