"I have something I wish to say to you, Miss Rossiter," he had said.
Elizabeth had been far too young and far too awed to resist. He had chosen a secluded alcove that had separated them from the company, though it maintained the proprieties by keeping them in view of the dancers.
"My nephew fancies himself in love with you," he had begun, coming straight to the point.
Elizabeth had been startled and flustered. "Y-yes, sir," she had stammered.
"And I suppose you return the sentiment?" His voice had been coldly sneering.
"Yes, sir," she had answered more firmly, "but I do not see what concern it is of yours."
Ice-blue eyes had bored into hers. "You are impertinent, miss," he had said. "It is very much my concern when a member of my family is about to make a fool of himself."
"A fool of himself?" she had echoed faintly.
"He is two and twenty," Denning had continued, "a mere babe. He has obviously succumbed to an admittedly pretty face and figure. How do you think it would appear to the haut monde, Miss Rossiter, if the son of the Marquess of Hetherington were to ally himself with the daughter of a drunkard and a spendthrift?"
Elizabeth had felt herself flushing, but she had been too young to dare to let her anger form an answer for her.
"You are a fortune-hunter, of course," the cold voice had gone on, "but my nephew has undoubtedly failed to inform you of the fact that very little of the family money will come his way."
"I am not interested in money, sir," she had found the courage to say.
"Oh, come, come, Miss Rossiter," he had replied, irritated, "we are all interested in money. We are fools if we say we are not. I shall not allow you to have my nephew, you know. When he is older, he will see that it is wise to choose a marriage partner who can increase his consequence. And Robert must marry money and position. It is essential for a younger son to do so."
Elizabeth had stared at him, her chin lifted defiantly.
"How much will it take to make you realize that marriage to my nephew is not a wise course for you?" he had asked.
Elizabeth had not immediately understood. "I beg your pardon?" she had asked blankly.
He had answered impatiently. "I have no time for these missish airs of innocence, Miss Rossiter," he had said. 'What is your price?"
She had gaped inelegantly.
"Unlike my brother and his family, I am as rich as Croesus, as the vulgar saying goes," he had said, "and I believe in investing some of that money in the future welfare of my family."
"Are you offering me money to break my relationship with Robert?" she had asked incredulously.
"How much, Miss Rossiter?"
Elizabeth had risen to her feet, breathing hard. "I have nothing to say to you, sir," she had said. "I notice that the music has stopped. I must return to my aunt."
"I see that I shall have to deal with your father," Horace Denning had said, quite unperturbed. "I shall not find him so scrupulous, I wager."
Elizabeth had felt chilled as she hurried to rejoin her aunt in the ballroom.
Not many days afterward, Mr. Rossiter had appeared in London, claiming that business had brought him there. But Elizabeth had not been surprised when he had taken her to task for her attachment to Robert Denning.
"Did his uncle tell you about this?" she had asked him.
"It need not concern you where I heard about your goings-on, Lizzie," he had said sternly. "It is sufficient for you to know that it will not do and you must see no more of this young man."
"What possible objection can you have, Papa?" she had asked. "He is of excellent birth, as you must know. He has manners and education."
"And not a groat to his name," he had snapped.
"We had not planned to marry until he inherits the money his mother left him," Elizabeth had explained.
"Marriage?" he had said harshly. "And who gave you permission to talk of marriage, miss?"
"We have talked of it, Papa," she had said hesitantly, "though it will be a long while before we can consider even a formal betrothal."
"You can forget the whole idea," he had announced. "Do you think I have raised you and sent you to London, Lizzie, so that you might enter into a lengthy engagement to a penniless puppy? You will do your duty, my girl, and start looking around you for someone whose pockets are well lined. Never mind the handsome faces and the fancy titles. Marry a cit, if you must, but you will marry money."
Elizabeth had said nothing. She knew from experience when it was useless to argue with her father. He had been drinking, as she could tell from his bright eyes and the smell of his breath. If she had tried to reason or argue further, his mood would have become ugly.
But that afternoon had been one of the days scheduled for a visit to Lady Bothwell. Mr. Rossiter had left for his hotel. Elizabeth's Aunt Matilda had raised no objections when Robert came to call on her. So she had gone with him. She had told him during the short journey what had happened with his uncle and with her father, though she had not mentioned the fact that his uncle had offered her money. He had been looking grim by the time she finished.
"Uncle Horace has tackled me with his opinions," he had commented. "I had no idea he would harass you, my love. I am sorry. And your father, is it likely that he will finally give his consent?"
"I fear not," she had replied, "unless you suddenly inherit some grand fortune."
He had gazed at the horses' heads, unamused by her small attempt at humor. "We must go away from here," he had said abruptly.
"Together?"
"Yes, we must. They will never give us any peace if we stay. And in three years they will have driven a wedge between us. It is too long to wait, Elizabeth."
"No," she had said, troubled. "I cannot go away with you like that, Robert. I could not reconcile it with my conscience."
He had looked across at her, startled. "I mean marriage," he had said.
"Marriage?" she had echoed. "You mean Gretna Green?"
"I suppose so," he had agreed. "Oh, you deserve better, my love. Will you mind?"
She had thought as she watched his grandmother's residence approach. "I think being married to you is more important to me than anything else," she had said.
He had flashed her a grateful smile as he tossed the ribbons to a waiting groom and vaulted down from his own seat in order to help her down.
They had not mentioned anything of all this to Lady Bothwell during the visit. But during their ten minutes alone, Robert had held her and kissed her and promised that he would make all the arrangements and inform her of them soon.
"I do not know if what we are doing is best for you, my love," he had said, holding her head against his shoulder and laying his cheek next to hers. "Society will frown on us for marrying over the anvil. Both your family and mine will condemn us and probably disown us. I shall probably have to seek employment so that we may live, but even so, I shall not be able to keep you in the comfort to which you are accustomed. But I cannot think of any alternative. 1 cannot contemplate the idea of losing you."
"I shall leave the decision to you," Elizabeth had said, lifting her head from his shoulder and putting her arms up around his neck. "I am ready to go with you tomorrow if you wish. But I will not be a burden to you, Robert. If you decide that we must wait, then I shall wait."
He had clasped her to him then and covered her face and neck with hot kisses.