“Because your brother came to see me today,” Catherine said, and Elizabeth's insides felt like a limb that had fallen asleep. Tingly and painful and weird.
“My brother,” she said, clutching a teacup that had somehow made its way into her hands.
As she looked at her blonde, slender mother’s dignified posture, she could almost see the two of them from the outside, sitting together, a mother and a daughter who were nothing alike. Elizabeth obviously favoured her father’s side in looks, which was obvious in her height and her brunette hair. The thought of having a brother out there made her realise that she hadn’t seen a face that resembled hers in five long years.
“Yes,” Catherine nodded. “His name is Nicholas, and he is the current Duke of Ashbury. He inherited the title from your father,” she said conversationally.
This title was news to Elizabeth, but she didn't particularly care about it. The fact that she had a brother, on the other hand... She couldn't believe it. What was she supposed to do with that knowledge?
“What,” she started saying, but her throat felt constricted, so she produced an awkward little cough to clear it, “what did he want? Nicholas?”
Saying his name felt like one of her childhood confections dissolving on her tongue.A brother.
“He wants to meet you.”
Elizabeth's eyebrows rose.
“Why?”
“What do you mean,why? You're his sister!”
“Mother, you yourself have already said that all of this is a bit, er,unconventional. I don't think dukes go around seeking out their sisters fromunconventional arrangements.”
“This one does. He is a kind young man, I liked him a lot. You can ask him all your questions next week when he calls on us again.”
“I -,” Elizabeth didn't finish that thought because she had no idea what she was thinking.
Dear God, please…She didn’t even know what to pray for.
Her mother just smiled into her teacup, already back in her fantasy world, in which all of this was wonderful news.
Catherine had no idea that Lizzie was saving whatever money she could to purchase a voyage to America, as was Mary and her husband, Robert. The three young people were tired of living and working and never progressing in any way. They were hoping to make a new life somewhere new. But now, a brother!
“Mind your manners when Nicholas gets here. You have to demonstrate that you are worthy of a place in his life. Wear the green dress.”
Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut and pressed them with her fingertips as strongly as she could without hurting herself.
*
Ten days later, Elizabeth was pacing “the parlour” they had collectively spent the last week scrubbing and dusting and polishing as her mother serenely worked on her embroidery. It was maddening.
Elizabeth's whole life was about to change in a profound way, and yet the world around her went on as if it didn't care. Would her brother chastise her? Reject her? Threaten her? All manner of possibilities had gone through her head as she awaited his visit, and she was exhausted from obsessing over it and not sleeping properly.
Jane soon announced the Duke, and when he entered the room, Elizabeth's heart stopped beating for a moment. He looked so much like her father. Well,theirfather. Seeing the familiar posture, his shoulders, his face – it all loosened a knot inside her heart that was made up of tangled anger, longing, resentment, and bone-deep love. Tears welled up in her eyes.
He just stood in the doorway, his intelligent, warm eyes trained on her face.
“Your Grace, let me introduce to you my daughter, Lady Elizabeth Hawkins,” her mother said primly, and Elizabeth couldn't even muster up annoyance at being introduced that way.Lady Seamstress, indeed!She thought and found it ridiculously funny.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Lizzie knew she was supposed to bow or curtsy to the duke, but it was as if she was unable to move.
“It's lovely to meet you, sister,” Nicholas said, and even his voice reminded her ofhim.
“Likewise, Your Grace,” she said, just like her mother had instructed her.
“Please, call me Nicholas. I am your brother, after all,” he said sheepishly, and Elizabeth immediatelyknewhe was kind and good. Nothing like their father.
“Only if you call me Elizabeth. Or Lizzie,” she retorted, her heart beating somewhere in her throat, making everything more difficult.
