Elizabeth smiled, despite herself. “A haphazard plan that might work. I like it.”
The dowagers were more than receptive. The Dowager Countess of Eastbrook greeted them with effusive warmth.
“Oh, Lady Elizabeth, Lady Wilhelmina! Such radiant girls! Truly, why are you both still unwed? It’s a mystery!”
The Dowager Viscountess Fostwick leaned in. “My son is here, somewhere. Lord Fostwick. Tall, terribly awkward, but sweet. I hope you’ll find time for him.”
Elizabeth curtsied with polite gratitude. “We’d be delighted, Lady Fostwick.”
“You were ill recently, were you not, Lady Elizabeth?” one asked kindly. “You look a touch wan still.”
“Oh, yes. I believe I… I overindulged in something disagreeable. It’s terribly embarrassing.”
“No need to explain, dear,” Lady Eastbrook patted her hand. “We’ve all had our moments.”
After a few more polite exchanges, Elizabeth and Wilhelmina slipped around the edge of the refreshment tent.
There was shade, breeze, and the blessed quiet of no judgmental eyes.
Elizabeth took a glass of lemonade and exhaled slowly.
And then, her reprieve shattered.
“Ye look like ye’re hidin’, lass,” came that unmistakable voice behind her.
Alasdair.
The air thickened. She didn’t turn immediately. Of course he would find her the moment she stepped back into society.
She faced him at last.
He stood tall in a dark coat, broad-shouldered and unreadable. His presence blocked the sun—and stole her breath.
“I’m not hiding,” she lied, keeping her tone even. “I was thirsty.”
“I wasnae talkin’ just about today,” he said, his voice low. “Ye vanished. Have ye been well?”
She looked down at her lemonade. The curve of his shoulder. The firm set of his jaw. She should not be remembering the way she’d clung to him. But her body remembered.
“I was unwell,” she said, quietly.
“Aye. And now ye’re back.” His voice was flat.
“I think our arrangement should end,” she said, lifting her chin. “It’s grown… dangerous.”
“Dangerous how, exactly?” he asked, eyes narrowing. “And for whom?”
“My stepmother suspects something. She watches me more than ever.”
Alasdair swore under his breath. “Has she said anything?”
“She doesn’t need to. I know her.”
“I dinnae…” he paused, jaw tightening, “I dinnae compromise ye, if that’s what ye’re worrying about.”
“I know. But…” she whispered. “Would you have stopped if the door hadn’t knocked?”
He didn’t answer. That told her everything.