“Because of the lords?” Victoria asked bluntly.
Elizabeth blinked. “What?”
“You know. Them staring at you like they’re trying to guess your price.”
“Victoria!” Daphne gasped, horrified.
“What? It’s true,” Victoria huffed. “Men think they’re shopping. You don’t like being stared at, Lizzie. You always get that look, like you want to vanish.”
Elizabeth didn’t reply right away. She was too startled by how closely Victoria had seen through her. She gave a soft laugh, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“I’ve always wanted to vanish,” she admitted quietly. “At least… in the events of the ton.”
Daphne looked heartbroken. “But they all liked you, Lizzie. Mina told us they said you were clever. Kind.”
“Maybe,” Elizabeth said. “But that doesn’t mean I’m ready for what they want. Or what they assume.”
There was a silence. Then, Victoria crossed her arms, her voice soft but fierce.
“Then don’t let them have you, Lizzie. You don’t owe anyone a smile. Not even Mother.”
“Vicky…” Elizabeth exhaled, moved more than she could say.
“She’s right,” Daphne added. “You shouldn’t go if it hurts you.”
“It’s not that simple,” Elizabeth said, smoothing a curl from Daphne’s cheek. “But I promise, I’ll try to smile. Not because I must, but because I want to.”
Victoria gave a skeptical little grunt. “Well, if anyone gives you trouble, I’ll bite them.”
“Vicky!” Daphne laughed in spite of herself.
Elizabeth laughed, too, really laughed this time, and the weight in her chest eased for just a moment.
She pulled them both close again, arms tightening around their small, familiar bodies. Their innocence didn’t make her feel childish. It made her feel whole.
“I’ll be there,” she said again. “And I’ll try.”
She didn’t say anything about Alasdair. She didn’t have to.
She just hoped her heart wouldn’t betray her when she saw him again.
Chapter Twenty
“Stop pacing, Sandy boy,” Seth drawled from his lazy sprawl across the settee in Alasdair’s London townhouse. “You’ll wear out the rug. Or worse, give the staff palpitations.”
Alasdair paced. Back and forth. Shoulders stiff, breath shallow. Nerves shot through every muscle like fire. And it had nothing to do with the gentlemen he was supposed to be charming or the meetings he was meant to attend.
Alasdair didn’t respond. He stopped by the window instead, squinting at the rain-slick street as if it might offer him answers. Of course, it didn’t. His mind wasn’t on London or politics or the slow burn of respectability he’d been forced to cultivate. It was on her.
“She hasnae been attendin’ the parties,” he muttered, more to himself than to Seth. “She’s gone quiet. Too quiet.”
“Elizabeth?” Seth sat up now, his voice sharper.
Alasdair nodded grimly. “She’s avoidin’ me.”
“Well, can you blame her?” Seth arched a brow. “You swing between Highland silence and some godforsaken intensity that would make a woman want to faint. Or flee. Honestly, it’s no wonder she’s run for cover.”
Alasdair gave him a dark look, but Seth shrugged.