A Chance Encounter

Robert had always continued the a

And now she was making one of her very infrequent, always una

"I want you to meet her, Elizabeth," Robert had said, smiling eagerly into her eyes. They were waltzing at Almack's. He always chose waltzes with her, because the dance gave them some time to be together and to talk. It was hard to steal time together otherwise.

"Do you really think I ought?" she had asked doubtfully. "She sounds rather frightening."

He had laughed, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners, white teeth flashing at her. "She will adore you, my love," he had assured her, squeezing her hand tighter. "And do not try to persuade me that you are afraid. You are always easy in other people's presence. You never seem at a loss for topics of conversation."

"But perhaps she will think a visit from me an impertinence?" Elizabeth had suggested.

His eyes had softened as they gazed back into hers. "I love her, Elizabeth," he had said. "I have told her about you and all that you mean to me. She insists on meeting you. I do believe that if you will not call on her, she will call on you."

"But that will never do," she had said, aghast. "How would it look if your grandmother came calling on my aunt when we are not even betrothed?"

He had gri

And so they had gone. Elizabeth's Aunt Matilda had raised no objection to her charge's going with Robert De

That first meeting had certainly been disconcerting. The old lady had risen to her feet when they were a

"This is Elizabeth Rossiter, Gram," he had said simply.

"I could have guessed that, boy," she had replied gruffly, still surveying Elizabeth. "Well, if her sense matches her looks, it seems you have made a good choice. Come and sit down, girl."

"Thank you," Elizabeth had replied, and she had perched stiff-backed on the edge of a nearby chair.

Robert had laughed, looking endearingly handsome and at ease in this very uncomfortable situation. "Gram, you old rogue," he had said outrageously, "you are deliberately trying to make Elizabeth uncomfortable just to discover if she has character. Now admit it," he had said.

"Hmm," had been her reply as she lowered herself slowly into a wing chair close to the fireplace.

"I told you that she is not a silly, empty-headed chit, now, did I not?" he had said. "She may sit like that, looking ill-at-ease, Gram, but she will not dissolve into tears or the vapors, I do assure you."

"Hmm," the old lady had repeated. "You never did learn ma

And, remarkably, by the time he had arrived back a few minutes later, Lady Bothwell and Elizabeth had been conversing quite comfortably on some topic that Elizabeth had now forgotten. The three of them had taken tea and cakes and talked for an hour or more. For Elizabeth it had been a blissful time. For once she and Robert did not have to steal a little time together in a public place. For once they could talk and laugh and relax together. And for once she felt the delight of being accepted by at least part of his family. There had been better to come. The old lady had finally pulled herself to her feet and grasped her cane.

"I have to go and check on my plants," she had a

Robert and Elizabeth had stared at each other incredulously for a moment. Then he had laughed. "Do you doubt now that she likes you?" he had asked, and he had stretched out a hand to pull her to her feet.

They had spent ten shameless minutes in each other's arms, kissing, gazing into each other's eyes, whispering love words, just holding each other. Elizabeth had rested her head against his shoulder at one point. She had closed her eyes and luxuriated in the feel of his warm, masculine body touching hers. How strong his thighs and chest and arms felt! How broad and comforting the shoulder! He was not very much taller than she and she liked him that way. She fit so comfortably against him.

He had nibbled on her earlobe and blown into her ear so that she had raised her head, giggling, to meet his laughing eyes again. They had embarked on another exploration of each other's lips and mouths before they heard the slow but unmistakable approach of the cane again. By the time Lady Bothwell had reentered the room, they had been sitting in their former places, Elizabeth flushed, Robert's fair hair looking less than immaculate.

"Hmm," the old lady had said, "sorry to keep you waiting."

That visit had set the pattern for a series of visits that look place every few days. They would converse with Lady Bothwell for an hour and then she would have to check on her plants. Never for longer than ten minutes. But the visits and the brief times alone had been sufficient for their relationship to grow. Their love had developed out of friendship; friendship helped it deepen.

And what had happened to the friendship and the love? Elizabeth asked herself now. They had seemed strong enough for a lifetime of happiness. But she did not dare let her memories stray any farther forward. Not tonight. She had no idea how late it was, but it felt very late indeed.

How could yesterday afternoon have happened? What was the explanation of his coldness and his anger? Elizabeth had gone over and over his words during the drive back home from the picnic and during the evening, which she had spent in her room, pleading fatigue. But she was no nearer a solution now. He had accused her of setting her cap at Mr. Mainwaring. That was outrageous enough, though at least partly understandable, perhaps, as the man had danced with her a few evenings before and had walked with her that afternoon. But Hetherington had accused her of dangling after Mr. Mainwaring's money. The idea was absurd. When had she ever suggested to Robert that money was important to her? She had been willing to marry him when neither of them had a feather to fly with. He must have known then that she had other admirers, wealthier ones, who might have been brought to the point had she given them the smallest encouragement.

He had seemed almost to hate her when he had charged her not to ruin a sensitive man like his friend. Yes, she had learned for herself that Mr. Mainwaring was a sensitive man, that he could probably be hurt easily. But to suggest that she would lead him on only to hurt him, to suggest that she was somehow heartless and dangerous, was, was… absurd! And he had told her to go to him for money. That he would give it to her. The gall of the man! The sheer gall! Elizabeth tapped her palm convulsively on the bed. How she itched to slap him again. She wished she could have hit him harder.