Where Dreams Begin(29)

Holly seated herself on a small marble bench and stared at the girl expectantly, not sharing her amusement. “Is that what you want for yourself?”

“Good God, no!” Elizabeth's laughter quieted somewhat, and she strode around the topiaries. Her restless energy would not allow her to sit. “What I want is impossible…so I shall probably become a spinster, and travel 'round the world for the rest of my days.”

“Tell me,” Holly insisted gently. “What is it that you dream of?”

Elizabeth flashed her a strangely defiant glance. “It's simple, really. I want a man who will love me, without having an eye on my brother's damned fortune. An honest, decent man who is strong enough to deal with my brother. But I'll never have that, no matter how many manners you might try to teach me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I'm a bastard,” Elizabeth blurted out. She gave a sudden shaky laugh at Holly's blank face. “Zach didn't tell you? Of course not—he thinks that ignoring the fact will make it go away. But the truth is, I am the result of a brief affair my mother had long after her husband died. A scoundrel came into her life, seduced her with pretty words and a few paltry gifts, and he disappeared when he tired of her. I never knew him, of course. But I was a terrible burden on the family, until Zachary grew old enough to start taking care of us.”

Holly felt a wave of compassion as she saw the girl's shamefaced expression. “Elizabeth, please come here.” She indicated the seat next to her.

After a long hesitation, the girl complied. She stared at the scenery before them, her profile set, her long legs stretched out before them. Holly spoke with extreme care. “Elizabeth, illegitimacy is hardly an unusual circumstance. There are many such offspring of the aristocracy that have found places for themselves in good society.”

“Well,” Elizabeth said gruffly, “it doesn't exactly add to my appeal, does it?”

“It's not something one would wish for,” Holly admitted. “But neither does it have to ruin all chance of making a good marriage.” She reached out and patted the girl's long, slender hand. “Therefore, I wouldn't count on becoming a spinster just yet.”

“I'm not going to marry just anyone,” Elizabeth said. “He'll be a man worth having, or I'll remain unattached.”

“Of course,” Holly replied equably. “There are many things worse than having no husband, and one of them is having a bad or insufficient husband.”

Elizabeth laughed in surprise. “I've always thought your kind believed that any marriage, no matter how good or bad, is better than no marriage at all.”

“I've seen too many unhappy unions, in which an ill-suited husband and wife cause each other terrible misery. There must be liking and respect between two partners.”

“What kind of marriage did you have, my lady?” As soon as the question left her lips, Elizabeth flushed, fearing she might have given offense. “I'm sorry—do you mind my asking—”

“No, of course not. I take great pleasure in talking about my late husband. I want to keep him alive in my memory. We had the most wonderful marriage imaginable.” Smiling wistfully, Holly stretched out her short legs and regarded the worn front edges of her shoes. “Looking back on all of it now, it almost seems like a dream. I'd loved George always—we were distant cousins, and during my childhood I had only brief glimpses of him. George was a handsome young man, and he was very kind, and he was adored by his friends and family. I was a plump child, and very shy, and I doubt I ever exchanged more than ten words with him. Then George went on his Grand Tour, and I didn't see him for the longest time. When he returned four years later, I was eighteen. We met at a ball.” Smiling, Holly put her hands to her warm cheeks, finding that the pleasurable memory still caused her to blush. “George asked me to dance, and I thought my heart would stop. He had a sort of quiet charm and confidence that I found irresistible. For the next few months he courted me most ardently, until my father gave his consent for us to marry. We had three years together. There wasn't a day of our marriage that I didn't feel loved and cherished. Rose was born not long before George died. I am so thankful he was able to spend a little time with her.”

Elizabeth seemed enthralled by the story. “Oh, Lady Holland.” She stared at Holly with sympathy and wonder. “How lucky you were to have such a man.”

“Yes,” Holly said softly. “I certainly was.”

They were both quiet for a minute, staring out at the rustling flower beds beyond the topiaries, until Elizabeth seemed to shake her private thoughts away. “Let's make the most of the bad material you've been given to work with, Lady Holland,” she said briskly. “Shall we return to the house and begin our lessons?”

“Certainly.” Holly stood and brushed her skirts. “I thought we might begin with sitting, standing and walking.”

That drew a burst of laughter from the young woman. “I thought I already knew how to do those things!”

Holly smiled. “You do them quite well, Elizabeth. However, there are a few little things…”

“Yes, I know. I swing my arms when I'm walking. As if I'm in a rowing competition.”

The description caused Holly to smile. “I assure you, it's not nearly that bad.”