The Masquerade (12 page)

Lizzie couldn’t explain that running after a toddler was simply exhausting. “I’m still plump, Papa.”

“You must have lost a stone!” Papa explained, cupping her cheek. “Welcome home, child.”

Lizzie smiled at him. Then she turned to Georgie.

Georgie was crying, and swatting at her tears. She looked the same—tall and handsome, her dark blond hair falling in waves past her shoulders. They went into each other’s arms and clung.

Georgie said roughly, “I see life in Wicklow has agreed with you!”

“And you haven’t changed at all,” Lizzie returned. “You are still the tallest woman I know!” she teased.

They smiled. “You’ve been away too long, Lizzie. I was beginning to think you would never come home.”

Lizzie didn’t know what to say. “It’s so good to be back. You’re right—I have been away for too long.”

Georgie smiled and then glanced past Lizzie at Eleanor. “She hardly looks ill,” she remarked, her gaze narrowing with some suspicion.

Lizzie tensed, recalling the crisis about to be unleashed when she introduced Ned as her son.

Mama had overheard, as she was listening to their every word. “Hello, Eleanor. My, you must have made a remarkable recovery, as you are as handsome as ever! Or have you become so fond of my Lizzie that you decided you could not do without her?” Mama was displeased and hardly disguising it. Her tone was acid.

“I have become very fond of your youngest daughter, Lydia,” Eleanor returned evenly. “And I have had a remarkable recovery. Hello, Gerald.”

“Eleanor, we are so pleased you decided to come home with Lizzie,” Gerald said, meaning it.

She would tell them now, Lizzie thought miserably. But if Mama swooned she would have to be carried inside.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Georgie asked quickly in a low tone.

Instead of answering, Lizzie looked at Eleanor, who smiled encouragingly at her. “I have news.” She could barely get the words out. “Let’s go sit in the parlor.”

Eleanor reached for her and squeezed her hand.

Both Mama and Georgie saw the gesture. “What kind of news?” Mama asked in surprise.

“Good news,” Lizzie said as brightly as possible.

“Did you meet a man?” Mama cried out. “Are you engaged? Oh, please, tell me that is why you have been gone for so long!”

Lizzie said, “I think we should go inside and sit down.”

Eleanor took Mama’s arm, guiding her to the house. “Come, we will all go into the parlor for a sherry.”

Mama glanced at Lizzie as she was led inside, the family following. “What is going on? If it isn’t an engagement, what news could you possibly have?”

Lizzie stood by the door as Eleanor led Mama to the sofa. Georgie took a chair, while Papa stood before the hearth, leaning on his cane. Lizzie felt light-headed and faint. She wondered if she should bring Ned in first or declare his existence instead. Everyone was staring at her expectantly.

There was, she decided, simply no way to avoid the shock. She stepped back into the front hall and signaled Rosie to alight from the carriage and come inside. Then she returned to the parlor.

Lizzie tried to smile and failed. “There is a reason I went to Dublin in the first place, the very same reason I stayed away for well over a year,” she said hoarsely. She was trembling so badly that she moved to the side of the pianoforte so she could lean on it.

Mama seemed bewildered. Papa said mildly, “We
know why you went to Dublin. Aunt Eleanor summoned you so that you could take care of her.”

Lizzie glanced briefly at Eleanor. The encouragement remained in her aunt’s eyes. She avoided meeting anyone else’s gaze now. “No. There was no summons. I forged that letter. Eleanor was not expecting me or Anna.”

Mama gasped.

Lizzie had to look at her mother. She was as pale as a corpse. Georgie was wide-eyed with disbelief. “What are you trying to tell us, Lizzie?” Georgie asked harshly. Lizzie knew her sister was already feeling betrayed. Papa was the only one who was not disturbed, as he trusted her so completely.

“I am sure Lizzie had a good reason for doing as she did,” he said.

Mama cried, “Why would you make up such a summons? Are you saying Eleanor was never ill?”

Lizzie heard Rosie entering the house. “Aunt Eleanor has enjoyed nothing but good health. I, however, had to leave the county. Mama, Papa, I am sorry.” She wet her lips. “I left because I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You are not making sense,” Georgie said, her attention riveted on Lizzie’s face.

Lizzie turned to face the front hall. Rosie stood there, Ned in her arms. He was yawning sleepily. Lizzie took him from her and returned to the room.

A shocked silence fell.

“This is Ned,” Lizzie said in a whisper. “My beautiful son.”

Mama turned white, her eyes popping. Papa and Georgie wore almost identical expressions of shock. Her entire family was speechless, it seemed.

And then Mama fell over in a faint, collapsing against the arm of the mint-green sofa. Eleanor began to fan her,
prepared for this event, but no one else moved. It was as if Papa and Georgie did not even know that Mama had swooned. Then Georgie stood, incredulous, still staring at Lizzie. “My God,” she said.

Papa was looking at her with the same absolute disbelief. Then he came alive. He rushed over to the sofa, where Eleanor now had smelling salts under Mama’s nose. Mama coughed, coming to consciousness as he knelt at her side.

“I had to leave to have the baby,” Lizzie whispered, hugging Ned too tightly.

Ned awoke completely and pushed at her shoulders. “Da,” he said, a command. “Da!” He had a vocabulary of a dozen words now.

“Hush,” Lizzie tried, barely looking at him. She felt a tear slipping down her cheek.

Georgie had covered her mouth with her hand. Her amber eyes were huge. “He is your son?” she asked as if she did not believe it.

Lizzie nodded. “Please love him the way that I do,” she somehow managed to say.

Tears filled Georgie’s eyes. She choked and sat down hard.

“Da!” Ned ordered. “Ned, da!”

Lizzie put him down. He clung to her legs in order to remain standing. Then he smiled at Georgie, two dimples appearing in his cheeks.

Finally, she looked at him, and when she really saw him, her eyes widened even more in sheer comprehension. In that moment, Lizzie knew she recognized Ned and knew that his father was Tyrell de Warenne.

Georgie’s stunned gaze went from Ned to Lizzie. The comprehension remained there, impossible to misread.

Lizzie was afraid.

Papa came to his senses. He launched himself to his feet without his cane, which he had dropped by the hearth. “Who is he? Lizzie, I demand to know who this child’s father is!” He was red with fury now. “I want to know who did this to you! By damn, he will make this right!”

Lizzie flinched. She had never seen her father lose his temper before, and she had never heard him curse, not once in her entire life. Papa was the most mild-mannered and gentle man she knew. But he looked ready to commit murder now. Lizzie shook her head. She had expected disappointment, but Papa was enraged.

“Do not tell me you don’t know who the father is!” Papa roared, shaking his fist at her. He was turning purple now.

Lizzie cried out. “Papa. Please. You will have a stroke. Please, sit down!”

But Papa did not move.

Mama moaned.

Lizzie bit her lip, turning from Papa to Mama, and as she did, she saw the accusation in Georgie’s eyes. Lizzie’s temples throbbed. This was far worse than she had expected, and she needed her sister as an ally now.

“Lizzie!” Mama cried, beginning to sob.

Lizzie hurried to her. Eleanor was helping her to sit upright. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she whispered, dropping to her knees and groping for her hand. Behind her, she heard Ned shriek in outrage as he fell to the floor. She glanced back and saw Georgie helping him up. She faced her mother again. “I’m so sorry!”

“Sorry! Sorry is not enough!” Mama cried. “You are ruined! Ruined!” she wailed, tears streaking her cheeks.

“But there is Ned,” Lizzie tried, swallowing. “Isn’t he handsome? And he is so clever, Mama. He is your grandson!”

“Handsome? Clever? You are
ruined!
We are all ruined! Oh, God, Mr. Harold will never marry Georgie now! He will break it off the moment he hears of this. Lizzie, how could you?”

“I’m sorry,” Lizzie said again, her heart feeling as if it had stopped. Surely Mama would love Ned, her own grandson!

“I demand to know the name of this child’s father immediately,” Papa said, barely controlling his fury.

Lizzie flinched. On her knees, she shifted to look at him. “It doesn’t matter,” she said vainly.

“It doesn’t matter? Of course it matters!” Mama screeched.

Ned was sitting on the floor, staring with avid interest at Mama. Georgie stood behind him, clearly watching after him.

“This is an intolerable situation and he will make things right,” Papa declared, his fists clenched.

Lizzie knew she must stop this subject immediately. “He’s married,” she said abruptly, hating having to tell another lie.

“He’s
married?
” Mama wept. “Oh, dear Lord, we are truly ruined. No one will ever have us into their homes again! Oh! Another child to raise—another mouth to feed!”

Lizzie was ill. She rocked back on her heels and sat down on the floor. Ned crawled to her and she took him onto her lap. “He is your grandson,” she whispered. “Not another mouth to feed.”

Mama covered her face with her hands, sobbing helplessly in sheer grief.

Lizzie looked at Papa, who sat beside Mama, his expression crushed with defeat. She trembled and looked at her aunt. “I should not have come home.”

Eleanor shook her head and said softly, “There was no other choice. Give them time.”

Mama dropped her hands and ceased crying. “How could you do this to us?” she demanded.

Lizzie did not know what to say. Slowly, she got to her feet. “I made a mistake.”

“Yes, a mistake that will cost everyone in this family. We will never survive this scandal,” Mama said bitterly.

Lizzie wondered if she would even have a roof over her head.

“Enough,” Papa said wearily. “Mama, enough. Lizzie never intended this. We have all suffered a great shock. I think we should adjourn this gathering for the moment. I am tired. I wish to lie down.” He groped for his cane and, using it, he stood. Appearing twenty years older than he was, he shuffled to the door.

Mama also stood. Leaning heavily on Eleanor, she gave Lizzie an accusing glance and followed Papa from the room, still on Eleanor’s arm. “I am going to my rooms and I do not wish to be disturbed,” she said, beginning to cry again, this time almost inaudibly.

Lizzie closed her eyes, alone now with Georgie and Ned.

Georgie shook her head, a tear finally spilling, and she walked out of the parlor, too.

Lizzie wished she had not come home.

L
izzie sat on her bed in the room she had shared with Anna. It was still her bedroom, but there was no comfort to be had in the two matching beds, the rose-and-white print walls, or the old bureau where she and Anna had stood together, morning after morning, unbraiding their hair. The familiar surroundings almost felt like a prison now, a prison of her own making. She hugged her knees to her chest while Ned scrambled about the floor, exploring his new environment under Lizzie’s watchful eye. Her chest ached.

What should she do now? She had the terrible feeling that she and Ned were not welcome at Raven Hall.

Tyrell’s handsome image came to mind and, with it, the unwanted thought that he would help her if she went to him. She bit her lip hard, drawing blood, tears finally falling. Her family was furious with her, furious and dismayed, and even Georgie was against her now. And she would never approach Tyrell.

There was always Glen Barry; there was always the house on Merrion Square.

Lizzie hugged her knees more tightly, afraid that her welcome with her aunt had been worn out some time ago. She had no means, no income. Dear God, if she wasn’t
welcome at home, she might be out on the streets like a vagabond.

A soft knock sounded on her door.

Lizzie stiffened. “Who is it?”

“It’s me,” Georgie said, opening the door. She did not move to come inside, her expression tightly arranged into one of anguish, hurt and even some anger.

Lizzie started to cry.

Georgie stood as stiffly as a soldier. Tears also came to her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Lizzie shook her head, incapable of speech, brushing the moisture from her eyes.

“I thought we were close. But you did not tell me of the most monumental event of your life—and you told Anna!” Georgie cried from the room’s threshold.

Lizzie finally pulled herself together. Self-pity would not serve her or her son now. “I was going to tell you in Dublin.” That was the truth. “But you refused to come, Georgie. And even you must see that I could not share such news in a letter. What if Mama had found it?”

Georgie came inside, closing the door behind her. She glanced at Ned once, some of the strain in her expression easing. “I should have gone to Aunt Eleanor’s with you and Anna! Then I would have helped! I love you so! I would do anything for you!” she cried.

Lizzie launched herself to her feet and ran to her sister, embracing her. Georgie’s body was rigid, but as Lizzie held her, murmuring, “I never meant to hurt you,” she began to soften.

“I know,” Georgie whispered as the two sisters parted. “Forgive me for thinking of myself now, Lizzie. I cannot begin to imagine what you have gone through!”

“We were terrified,” Lizzie said “We did not even know if Aunt Eleanor would allow us entrance—much
less to stay after she learned the truth. Georgie, I need you now, as much as I ever have. I am so afraid. Mama will never forgive me and Papa is so angry. I have never seen him like this! I do not think I am welcome here. Forgive me if I have wronged you, as that was never my intent. Please, help me and my son now.”

Georgie gasped, seizing her hand. “Lizzie, this is your home. No one will cast you out.” Their gazes locked before Georgie glanced at Ned. “And he is a Fitzgerald. They will come around. They need time. This has been a huge shock.”

Lizzie nodded, desperately hoping that Georgie was right and very uncertain of that. Exhausted, she sank down on the foot of the bed. “What do I do now?”

“Let the crisis pass,” Georgie said. She knelt before Ned. “Hello. I am Auntie Georgie.”

Ned had found one of the shoes Lizzie had discarded and had been inspecting it with great care, but he met Georgina’s gaze with a bright smile. “Ned,” he announced, banging the shoe on the floor as if it were a gavel. “Ned!”

Georgie began to smile. “Yes, you are Ned and I am Auntie Georgie.”

Ned’s smile disappeared and he stared very seriously at her.

“He is trying to understand,” Lizzie explained.

“He has such remarkable blue eyes,” Georgie breathed. “Auntie Georgie,” she declared.

“Gee,” he said with authority. “Gee!” he shouted, dropping the shoe and clapping his hands.

“My clever boy,” Lizzie whispered with pride.

“He is very clever,” Georgie agreed, standing. “I cannot get over the shock,” she said, staring very closely now.

Lizzie had the most uncomfortable feeling that she was referring to the shock of Ned’s paternity. She slipped to her feet. “As you said, the crisis will pass.”

Georgie gripped her arm, stalling her. “Liz. Is Tyrell de Warenne the father?”

Lizzie was instantly dizzy. She had never expected anyone to guess the truth when she came home with Ned, but her sister had done precisely that—within minutes of glimpsing Ned. If Georgie so easily saw Tyrell in Ned, would someone else, too?

“Don’t do this!” she cried, trembling.

“I am hardly a fool. Ned doesn’t look like you, not at all. And how many Black Irishmen do we know? Especially when you have been in love with Tyrell de Warenne your entire life.”

The cooper was a swarthy “black” Irishman, Lizzie thought in dismay, but she did not point out such a foolish thing. “Is it so terribly obvious?”

“It is obvious to me, knowing your history as I do. He is so dark, his eyes are the de Warenne blue!” Georgie said.

Lizzie sat back down. “If he ever learns the truth, he will take him away from me! Georgie, I will deny it. Ned is
mine.
” And Lizzie was afraid that her lie was already becoming undone.

Georgie laid her hand on her shoulder. “I know he will never marry beneath him. There are rumors of an impending engagement to a very wealthy English heiress from a powerful Whig family. You are right. He would take Ned away from you.” There was a question in her eyes.

Lizzie looked away.

Georgie touched her arm. “Was it that night on All Hallow’s Eve? You said you did not tryst with him.”

Lizzie inhaled. “I can’t, Georgie. I cannot ever discuss
this subject.” She hesitated and looked up, adding, “It is far too painful.” She would not lie to her sister again. Fortunately, once in a great while, she could be as determined as Georgie.

Georgie scrutinized her. “So you really plan to keep his child from him? You will raise Ned alone?”

Georgie had yet to remark upon the fact that Ned was being denied his birthright—a fact that was haunting Lizzie even more now that she was at home and so close to Adare. Lizzie wet her lips. “One day, when he is closer to his majority, I will reveal the truth.”

Georgie seemed to accept that. “Maybe Tyrell won’t have any other male heirs,” she finally said, “making Ned’s acceptance that much easier.”

“I know it will be another crisis, but I must manage one day at a time.”

Georgie put her arm around her. “Of course you must. And I want to help.”

“Thank you,” Lizzie whispered. She tried not to be a fool and give into the painful hurting in her breast. “So, he is about to become engaged?”

“That is the rumor. It is all over Limerick. The lady in question might be the daughter of Viscount Harrington.”

Lizzie closed her eyes. Even she, as politically unaware as she was, knew of the powerful Lord Harrington. He had been on the Privy Council at one time and he remained the chairman of the House of Lords. He was a very wealthy, prominent Englishman. If the rumors were true, the match would be a highly advantageous one for the de Warenne family.

Georgie said, “Lizzie, you have known all along he is not for you—”

“I know! Georgie, it will be for the best if he marries
and has more children. I want him to be happy,” she managed to say.

Georgie smiled sadly. Then she said, “Of course you do.”

Several days later, the household had not recovered from the crisis. Mama remained in her rooms, apparently too melancholy to come downstairs. Papa brooded in his study and was oddly quiet at meals. It was as if someone had died and the household was in mourning, Eleanor commented, a remark which did not alleviate Lizzie’s anxiety or dispel her somber mood. Georgie tried to be amusing and was wonderful with Ned, but that did not help. No one, not even Eleanor, could encourage Mama to come downstairs. Papa seemed not to care.

Lizzie was on edge, terribly so. For the past year, she had tried very hard not to think about what would happen when she brought Ned home. She had tried to tell herself, when she did dare to contemplate the future, that it would somehow work out. Now she had to face how deeply she had hurt her parents—and it was only the beginning. If her parents were so shocked, how would their acquaintances react? Lizzie was afraid the scandal would be even worse than she had dared to imagine.

It was Lady O’Dell who called first. Lizzie was in the parlor with Eleanor, Georgie and Ned when the handsome black carriage drove up. Lady O’Dell was a good friend of Mama’s and she had always been kind to Lizzie—although she had never cared for Anna. But then, her own daughter, Helen, who was rather pretty, had never had as much attention as Anna, and Lady O’Dell had always resented it. She had been one of the women to call Anna “wild” behind her back.

Lizzie peered out of the window as Lady O’Dell
alighted from the carriage. Ned was asleep in a bassinet and Eleanor was at the card table where she had been playing gin rummy with Georgie. Her stomach turned unpleasantly as she watched Mama’s friend approach.

Georgie joined her at the window. “It is Lady O’Dell! What do you want to do?” She quickly faced Lizzie, her features tense.

Lizzie did not hesitate, even though she felt ill. “I think I have little choice. After all, she will learn I am a fallen woman sooner or later. Perhaps it’s best to get this over with.”

“Oh, Lizzie, you have been through so much! I wish you could be spared a scandal.”

Lizzie managed to shrug. “There is no avoiding one.”

“No, there isn’t.” Georgie finally smiled at her, trying to be reassuring. “Maybe it won’t be that bad. Lady O’Dell has been ecstatic over Helen’s marriage last fall. She has never been in a better humor.”

Lizzie looked away. Margaret O’Dell was going to be shocked, never mind her daughter’s marriage, and then she would be disapproving. By the time she left Raven Hall that day, no one was ever going to accept Lizzie into polite society again. Lizzie reminded herself that her son was worth the censure. His welfare was what was important—not her own.

The heavyset matron was shown into the parlor by Betty. She beamed at them all. “Elizabeth! It has been far too long, my dear girl. How fine you look! And Lady de Barry! How wonderful to see you again.” She swept into the room.

“How are you, Lady O’Dell?” Eleanor smiled, rising to her feet. “Or should I even ask, as you look so well?”

Lizzie’s heart was racing wildly and she shared a glance with Georgie. Eleanor was never so pleasant to the
society in Limerick, but Lizzie certainly knew why she was being gracious now.

“Oh, thank you. And I heard you have been ill, but you look as if you have totally recovered your health,” Lady O’Dell said. She noticed the sleeping child in the bassinet, then, and seemed mildly puzzled but returned her attention to Eleanor.

“Please, you must call me Eleanor, as we have known each other for…how many years is it now? And my congratulations, Margaret. I heard Helen made the most advantageous match.”

Margaret O’Dell beamed. “He has an annual pension of six hundred pounds! Yes, it was a very splendid match.” She glanced at Ned again. “What a pretty baby! Or should I say handsome, as I suspect he is a boy?”

Lizzie walked past her aunt and Lady O’Dell, aware of her legs shaking. “Yes, it is a boy.” She did not want to awaken Ned, so she reached down to fuss with the light covers. Then she stroked his downy cheek, just once. When she straightened, she saw Margaret O’Dell staring at her with wide, curious eyes.

“Is he a relation?” she asked.

Lizzie somehow faced her. “He is my son.”

There were more callers, as every neighbor they had came to Raven Hall to gawk at Lizzie and her son. When a carriage arrived in the driveway, Lizzie’s anxiety escalated until she felt faint. She had never been popular, but she had always been treated with warmth and respect. Suddenly, she was the height of popularity—in the most humiliating way. There were so many indirect comments and innuendos. Lizzie knew the entire parish was speculating upon who Ned’s father was. And almost everyone commented upon the fact that it was simply shocking
that “shy Elizabeth Anne” was the one to turn up in such a way.

Every time Lizzie heard someone remark that Anna, with her wild ways, should have been the one to come home in shame, she cringed.

It was Georgie who insisted they spend an afternoon shopping in town.

“You cannot hide forever and the worst is over,” Georgie said as they strolled down High Street, both sisters in embroidered white gowns and silk pelisses. Ned was in a carriage that was being pushed by Rosie.

“They look at me as if I am a harlot,” Lizzie said, clutching her reticule tightly. It had been a beautiful morning, but it had become windy and gray, the afternoon skies threatening rain. She did not care. Her life had been turned upside down and she desperately wanted it upright again. She hated being the center of so much attention, of such a sordid scandal. “I almost
feel
like a harlot.”

“You are no harlot!” Georgie cried. “These women have known you your entire life and they all know how good you are. I overheard someone saying that you must have been seduced—that you must have been in love. I think it is rather shocking to them that their shy little Lizzie could get herself in such a way.” Georgie smiled at her. “They
will
recover. No scandal lasts forever.”

Lizzie doubted that she would ever live the scandal down or have any of her former friends as acquaintances again. Even now, as they passed the many shops lining High Street, the proprietors remarked their progress. Lizzie knew that there were whispers in her wake. “I don’t know if I should stay here, Georgie,” she finally said. “Maybe it will be better for Mama and Papa if I
leave.” She was still afraid that she would not be welcome at her aunt’s home if she did have to depart Raven Hall.