Clara rolled her eyes. “You have had some rather questionable opinions. Especially about Americans.”
Evelyn drew herself up. “I beg your pardon. My belief that the country deserves nothing but fire and brimstone is not at all questionable. I will have you know that it is, in fact, a reasonable opinion to have.”
Eliza laughed before she could stop herself, the sound breaking through the tension in the room. Clara shook her head, and Evelyn huffed, and the two of them slipped into their usual sparring.
Eliza leaned back, watching them with a strange fondness. Their words faded into the background, but her mind circled the same thought. They were right.
She had to decide.
Would she keep this secret to spare herself? Or would she speak it and face what followed? Her chest rose and fell. She knew the answer, though fear still tried to smother it.
She had to tell him because she could not let him discover the truth in some other way. And if she was being honest with herself, she already knew the choice she would make.
She only needed to find the courage.
Chapter 23
Tristan stopped before the door to Eliza’s chambers and took a few breaths. This was an important discussion that he needed to have with her, and it was now or never. Taking one more deep breath, he raised his knuckles and knocked gently.
“Enter,” Eliza’s voice came from behind the door.
He swallowed and stepped inside, his eyes darting through as he closed the door behind him. Clara and Eliza sat on the bed, their silence louder than his heartbeat as they both looked at him.
“Lady Clara,” he greeted, his voice low.
Clara rose at once, running her hands down her dress.
“Lord Vale,” she said, bowing her head slightly.
“If this is a bad time, I can always come—”
“No!” Clara interjected, her voice a bit too sharp. Her cheeks rose in a smile as she took a few steps forward. “I should excuse myself,”
“Thank you,” Tristan answered.
Clara smiled faintly at Eliza, then moved past him and slipped out, shutting the door behind her. Tristan crossed the room and sat beside Eliza on the bed.
“We need to talk,” he said quietly.
“Yes,” she agreed at once, her fingers tangled together in her lap. “I know.”
A mild frown crossed his face as his eyes searched hers. “You have something to say?”
She nodded but hesitated. “I do. And I would like to go first. It is important.”
Tristan gave a slow nod. “Go on.”
Eliza inhaled deeply, her voice shaking as she began. “This marriage, you must understand … It was never truly my choice.”
Tristan frowned but did not interrupt.
“My brother,” she said, her throat tight. “Marcus. He engineered the whole thing. He walked into my room one day and said I was to get married to the Earl of Evermere.”
“I am confused,” Tristan said, narrowing his eyes at her. “You knew we would get married before the matchmaker?”
“All I know is that Marcus was behind it all. I tried to stop it, Tristan. I did. I looked for a way out. But he gave me none. He planned everything from the start, and I had no choice but to follow it.”
Tristan’s jaw set hard, though he stayed silent.
