Gentleman of Her Dreams (10 page)

“I didn’t know you wore spectacles,” Mary said.

Eliza thought Mary might be frowning in her direction, but as she couldn’t clearly see her face, she wasn’t sure. “I only wear them on very rare occasions, dinners mostly. Spectacles make it easier to see the silver.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing, but if you can’t see the silver, I suppose you should keep them on,” Mary said. “Pity though, seeing as you have such lovely eyes and Mr. Hamilton Beckett is expected tonight.” Mary lowered her voice. “He’s the most sought-after gentleman in New York.”

“Then I would have to believe it would be difficult for me to garner his attention with or without my spectacles,” Eliza said wryly. “I am the governess and the only reason I’ve been pressed into service is because Agatha’s developed spots.”

Mary made a tsking noise under her breath.

Eliza frowned. “Do you know about Agatha’s spots?”

“The entire house knows about the spots.”

“Does Agatha make a habit of refusing to attend her mother’s dinners?” Eliza asked.

“No, but I believe the poor dear has finally had enough of her mother’s schemes. I overheard them earlier today, and they were engaged in a bit of a tiff. I don’t believe Miss Agatha appreciated the fact Mrs. Watson was forcing her to sit next to Mr. Beckett at dinner.”

“I thought you said Mr. Beckett was the most sought-after gentleman in New York?”

“He is, but I think Miss Agatha finds him too old,” Mary said.

“How old is he?”

“He might be thirty.”

“Thirty is hardly old.”

“Not to you.”

Eliza stifled a laugh. Here was further proof her disguise was a success seeing as how she was only twenty-one years old, not much older than Agatha. She sent Mary a smile and then headed for the door. “Thank you for your help, Mary.”

“Maybe you should say some extra prayers to help you get though the evening,” Mary suggested.

Since Eliza was less than pleased with God at the moment, seeing as how He had not helped her sort through the mess she currently found herself in, she ignored Mary’s statement.

“Would you like me to help you down the stairs?” Mary asked as Eliza ran smack dab into the doorframe.

“That won’t be necessary,” Eliza said as she sailed through the door, ruining the effect by tripping on the trailing fabric of her gown.

“I’ll say those prayers for you,” Mary called as Eliza straightened and slowly walked down the hall.

The steps proved to be quite the obstacle, and she finally had to push the spectacles down her nose in order to navigate them. She paused on the first landing to tug her hem out from under her feet, and as she did so, she saw a pair of eyes peering at her through a crack in a door.

“Agatha,” she muttered.

The door shut with a snap.

Eliza considered marching over to the door and demanding Agatha take her rightful place at the table, but the arrival of another maid distracted her. She shoved the spectacles back up her nose.

“Miss Sumner, Mrs. Watson is asking about you,” the maid said. “My, don’t you look . . . fetching.”

Eliza released an unladylike snort. “I think hideous would be a more appropriate word.”

“You might have a point,” the maid said. “Do you need help getting down to the dining room?You seem to be dragging a large amount of skirt behind you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Eliza said, sending the closed door one last look before she continued on her way, vowing to herself she would have a few words with Agatha if she survived the evening.

After what seemed like hours but was only minutes, she finally managed to reach the end of the stairs and cautiously made her way to the dining room.

“Miss Sumner,” Mrs. Watson exclaimed, appearing at Eliza’s side. “What took you so long?”

“I apologize, Mrs. Watson, but I had a bit of difficulty maneuvering down the steps.”

Eliza couldn’t be certain, but she thought she saw Mrs. Watson’s lips quiver.

“Oh dear, that gown is worse than I imagined,” Mrs. Watson declared as she took Eliza by the arm and peered into her face. “I must say, those spectacles are the perfect accessory. They make you look eccentric which will go far in explaining the gown.”

As Eliza was trying for inconspicuous, the last thing she wanted to hear was that she’d managed “eccentric.”

“This is a horrible idea,” she mumbled.

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Watson said, steering Eliza through a crowd of people and coming to a halt in front of an incredibly long table.

“How many guests did you invite?” Eliza sputtered.

“Only fifty-two, well, fifty-three now that we’ve had an unexpected guest show up.”

Hope blossomed.

“That’s wonderful,” Eliza exclaimed. “Now you won’t need me to attend.”

“I still need you seeing as how the unexpected guest is a gentleman. Mr. Zayne Beckett, to be exact. The family is railroad money, so please, be polite when you sit next to them at dinner.”

“I’m sitting next to Mr. and Mr. Beckett?”

“I know, it’s a bit unseemly to have someone of your station sitting next to my most honored guests, but I didn’t have time to rearrange the seating chart, and I’m hopeful we can use this to our advantage.”

“I’m afraid I’m not following,” Eliza said slowly.

Mrs. Watson’s voice dropped to a mere whisper. “I have high hopes of the elder Mr. Beckett and my Agatha forming an alliance. All you need to do to assist me is bring Agatha into the conversation often and speak of her in glowing terms.”

Eliza blinked. “Mrs. Watson, I barely know your daughter, and I’m not certain I’m equipped to discuss her with gentlemen I’ve never met. What would I say?”

“You can tell them how sweet and demure Agatha is and how she would make the most biddable of wives.”

Eliza arched a brow. “Are we discussing the same Agatha who made up a case of the spots to escape your dinner party?”

Mrs. Watson ignored Eliza’s statement. “Good heavens, old Mr. Sturgis is sitting beside Mrs. Costine. That will never do. They loathe each other.” She spun around and darted away.

Eliza squinted at the table, unable to see the writing on the small place cards set on each plate. She tipped her glasses down the bridge of her nose and moved slowly past the chairs, looking for her name. She sighed in relief. There she was, just two chairs down. She shifted away from the table and didn’t even have a moment to gasp as her feet got tangled and she lost her balance. Falling toward the table, cutlery sprang ever closer, and the strange thought came to her that Mrs. Watson was definitely going to relieve her of her post after she wrecked the table. Before her face found purchase amongst the china, however, an arm snagged around her middle and pulled her to safety.

She stood still for a moment to allow her nerves a chance to settle before she forced her gaze upward to acknowledge the gentleman who had saved her from a most unpleasant fate.

All the breath left her in a split second as his features swam into view.

He was the most compelling man she’d ever seen, possessed of sun-kissed brown hair and blue eyes the exact shade of the sky. His face, with sharp angles and a strong jaw, was rugged in a manner quite unlike the faces of the gentlemen she had known in England. His lips were firm and unsmiling at the moment, but from the small creases at the corners, she could tell he was a man who was accustomed to smiling. Her eyes traveled over his broad shoulders, but then the promise she’d made to herself regarding the avoidance of handsome gentlemen sprang to mind, and she pushed her spectacles back into place. His features turned hazy as resolve straightened her spine.

“Thank you,” she muttered.

“You’re very welcome,” the man said, his voice causing the hair to stand straight up on her arm. “May I assist you into your chair?”

“That will not be necessary,” Eliza replied as she stepped past the man to take her seat.

She heard a sudden telltale rip of fabric and realized her skirt was stuck around the legs of the chair. A yelp escaped her lips before she plunged to the floor.

———

To read more of Eliza’s story, look for
A Change of Fortune
, available November 2012 wherever books are sold.