“Here,” Clara said, holding the glass out to her. “You need this more than I do.”
Eliza accepted the water but barely tasted it. Her eyes remained fixed on the hallway.
“You see?” Clara said, smiling. “Nothing to fear tonight. I told you—”
“Clara,” Eliza cut in, her voice low. “Would you … manage the guests for a while? There is something I must do.”
Clara blinked. “What is it?”
“I cannot explain,” Eliza said, shaking her head. “Please. Just help me.”
Clara hesitated, then nodded. “Go.”
Eliza slipped away, her slippers gliding quickly across the marble floor. Before she could get to the hallway, a woman intercepted her, face bright.
“My lady, congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Eliza responded, her impatience evident.
“What a splendid event!” the woman continued anyway. ‘You must tell me, where did you find the tapestries?”
“Hmm…” Eliza trailed off instead, her eyes still fixed on the door.
“And the claret, good heavens, it must have cost—”
Eliza gently tapped the woman’s shoulder. “I am glad you are enjoying yourself, my lady. Please, drink as much as you wish.” She moved forward and then paused, her voice softening but firm. “Not too much though.”
The woman blinked at the dismissal, and Eliza moved on.
The hallway grew quiet as she moved closer to Tristan’s study. A wave of murmurs filled her ears, and the closer she got, the clearer the conversation became. She pressed herself against the wall, listening. She immediately recognized Marcus’s tone among them.
“When we rebuild the junction, it will be the only access. Control it, and everything else follows.”
Another voice rose, “And the landowners in those parts?”
“Leave them to me,” Marcus responded smoothly.
A third voice spoke up. “The Collins will not give up farmland so easily. It has been in their family for generations.”
“Before them it belonged to another,” another man said. “Even the Collins must see that things cannot remain unchanged forever.”
“And what of the path to the marketplace?” a fourth man asked. “It is the only road through the woods.”
“I was coming to that,” Marcus responded, his voice dropping.
Eliza leaned closer, hoping to hear more. Then the beads at the hem of her dress brushed against the wall. She couldn’t stop the sound before it traveled.
They all heard it, and the voices inside fell silent.
“Did you hear that?” one of them muttered.
Her heart leapt to her throat, and she pressed flat against the wall, her breath wavering.
“Close the door,” Marcus ordered. “You cannot be too careful.”
A moment later, she heard the door click shut, and silence followed.
Eliza exhaled shakily. She couldn’t hear anything anymore.
