by Joyce Alec
“Come up with a plan, then, have we?” Miss Wiltshire asked, setting the tea tray down and giving Eleanor a look that told her Miss Wiltshire was well aware Eleanor and Henry had not been talking. “The ball is tomorrow, so we must have something in mind.”
“Are you to come, Miss Wiltshire?” Henry asked, his voice a little hoarse.
“Of course,” Miss Wiltshire said firmly. “I am always at Eleanor’s side, despite the rumors and scandal that insist on following me wherever I go.”
“At least we have been invited,” Eleanor murmured, well aware that her invitations to such events had been slightly sparse of late. “Unless Thornley insisted upon the invitation, which would not surprise me.”
“And you still have the jewel?” Miss Wiltshire asked, directing her question at Henry.
He nodded. “Tomorrow, this whole situation will be over. Come now, let us put our heads together and come up with a plan. Together, I am sure we will find a way to reveal to the world who Thornley really is.”
Chapter Fourteen
Eleanor could not help but clutch Miss Wiltshire’s hand as they entered the ballroom, joining the line to greet their hosts.
“You are shaking,” Miss Wiltshire murmured, squeezing Eleanor’s hand lightly. “Try not to be so afraid.”
“This must work,” Eleanor whispered, so as not to draw the attention of the other guests. “If it does not...then I shall have to run to Scotland with Henry, and you shall be left to forever carry the scandal of being a thief. The thought of you bearing that burden brings me such sorrow.”
“And it would not be as bad as you imagine,” Miss Wiltshire replied calmly. “I am but a companion, Eleanor, although I am glad to be yours, I must say.” Her expression grew serious. “You cannot think that I should mind that burden too much.”
Eleanor shook her head. “No, I cannot have that for you. You are not even ten years older than I, and might yet marry—but that opportunity will disappear entirely should this be left to ruin.”
To her surprise, Miss Wiltshire’s eyes filled with a sudden sheen of tears.
“I am sorry,” Eleanor said, quickly. “I had not meant to upset you.”
Miss Wiltshire smiled tightly and blinked back the moisture from her lashes. “You have not,” she said, so quietly that Eleanor had to strain to hear her. “You have dreams for me that I will not allow myself to hold and, whilst that is kind of you, you cannot hold onto them. I come from a practically destitute family, with almost nothing to my name. It was only your good and kind heart that allowed me to retain something of my former status. I can hope for nothing more.”
Eleanor shook her head. “No, Miss Wiltshire. What if there is a clergyman or the like looking for a wife? Once I am wed, you are to stay with me of course, but I do not want you to put off your own life to simply be by my side for the remainder of my years. A clergyman would do quite nicely for you, I am sure, but only if we can remove this scandal from your shoulders.”
“I confess that I have never allowed myself to hope for as much,” Miss Wiltshire said. “Neither has there been the time. Your marriage to your first husband was of such a short duration that I barely got my surroundings before we had to enter into our year of mourning. And now we have come to town, only to be faced with another strenuous situation.”
“You see,” Eleanor said, patting Miss Wiltshire’s hand. “Once Henry and I are settled and back to the country, there will be ample time for you to find someone worthy of you. But that can only happen if there is not even a hint of scandal surrounding either myself or you. That is why this plan has to succeed.”
Miss Wiltshire’s expression grew somber, although there was a new light in her eyes, which Eleanor hoped meant that she finally was able to see the life she could have once all this was settled. It was Eleanor’s dearest wish to see Miss Wiltshire happy, given just how good she had been to her.
“I am sure all will be well,” Miss Wiltshire replied after a moment, regaining her usual firmness. “That Lord Armitage of yours is quite quick-witted and vastly intelligent. I am sure he has thought of everything.”
Eleanor smiled at Miss Wiltshire’s words but had no time to respond as she was next in line to greet their hosts. Thankfully, there was not much said, for their hosts were clearly eager to greet all their guests and then continue with their entertainments, so Eleanor and Miss Wiltshire were practically rushed through. Upon nearing the steps, Eleanor felt a wave of dizziness overtake her, aware of what must be done.
“Courage,” Miss Wiltshire murmured, pressing the small of Eleanor’s back. “Lord Armitage is here, as he said he would be. Just do what he said, and all will be well.”
“Where are you going to sit?” Eleanor asked as they slowly made their way down the staircase that led to the ballroom floor. “Remember that Henry said that you must be seen at all times so that no one can say you were anywhere near Lord Thornley.”
Miss Wiltshire nodded. “Yes, of course. I shall sit with the rest of the companions, but I believe I shall sit close to Miss Henstridge.”
“Oh?”
Miss Wiltshire chuckled. “She is quite the chatterbox, but she is sure to keep my attention, and I will keep hers. There will be no suggestion that I have ever left my seat or that I have gone anywhere near Lord Thornley. Miss Henstridge might bring me something of a headache, but she will be, at least, a wonderful alibi.”
Eleanor tried to laugh, but the sound stuck in her throat. She smiled, at least, as Miss Wiltshire walked over towards the other companions. Eleanor watched as she sat gracefully next to another woman, whom Eleanor guessed to be Miss Henstridge, given the way that she struck up a conversation with Miss Wiltshire almost immediately. Relieved that Miss Wiltshire was well placed, Eleanor continued her foray into the ballroom, aware of the many guests in attendance. Couples were already beginning to make their way onto the floor, so Eleanor chose to step to one side, close to the wall so that she might survey the proceedings. It was a dark and shadowy corner, giving her space from the other guests. Eleanor took the opportunity to gather herself, drawing in one long breath.
“Nervous?”
The voice in her ear made her jump, her skin prickling as she realized that it was Henry who stood behind her. Turning to glance at him, she saw that he was dressed almost all in black, save for his snowy white shirt and dark blue cravat.
“Keeping to the shadows, are we?” she murmured lightly, trying to stop the loud thumping of her heart.
He chuckled quietly, and Eleanor felt ripples of heat rush down the length of her body. He was so close to her, the urge to touch him, to be close to him, almost driving her to turn around right there and lean into his embrace.
“Put your hands behind your back,” he said softly, and, as she did so, she felt a soft material touch her hands. Clasping it carefully, knowing that the ruby was within, she brought her hands around to the front once more before sending a cautious glance down towards her hands.
“I cannot hide it all in one hand,” she whispered, urgently. “He will see it.”
There was no answer, and, for a moment, Eleanor wondered if Henry had left.
“You will manage this, Eleanor,” came his sudden, reassuring whisper. “I will take care of the rest.”
Eleanor could not help but gasp as his lips brushed her neck, but when she turned to look, he was gone.
It took Eleanor a few minutes to collect herself, the weight of the ruby in her hand making her anxiety rise like a cresting wave. She had to, somehow, get this into her betrothed’s pocket without him becoming aware of what she had done. Henry had suggested doing it while they danced, and had even rehearsed with her a few times, but she had not been as nervous then as she was now.
Thankfully her gloves were the same shade of cream as the kerchief, which hid it somewhat, but she was going to have to be very careful not to drop the item. At least she had been able to get the ruby into Henry’s coat pocket without too much trouble, for the last thing she w
anted was to have to attempt to place the ruby into Lord Thornley’s breeches. Biting her lip, Eleanor took a breath and stepped forward, into the light, knowing that Lord Thornley would be looking for her.
She did not have to wait long. The man was by her side almost at once, his eyes narrowing as he glared at her.
“I have saved you three dances,” Eleanor said, quickly, before he had a chance to open his mouth. “One being the supper dance.”
His gaze narrowed. “Are you attempting to toy with me again, Eleanor?”
“No,” she said, attempting to sound hurt. “You have given me fair warning. I do not wish for anyone to be hurt.”
His eyes did not leave her, nor did they lower in their intensity. Eleanor bowed her head and let her hand grasp the ruby a little more tightly. He had to believe that she was afraid of him, afraid of his threats.
Thornley cleared his throat. “And when is our first dance to be?”
“Now, I believe,” she replied, allowing her eyes to meet his with an almost meek look. “Should you wish to dance with me, that is.”
He grasped her arm at once, giving her no choice but to be led across the floor. It was a possessive move, and one she was expecting, but the humiliation she felt hit her nonetheless. Glancing to her right, she saw Miss Wiltshire sitting next to Miss Henstridge still, although her eyes glistened with anger. Eleanor felt sweat trickle down her back as she took her place opposite Lord Thornley, relieved that it was not the waltz or another intimate dance. She curtsied, and soon was out on the floor, turning this way and that, only meeting Thornley now and again as the dance progressed. They very rarely held hands, and, given that the dance was something of a slow one, Eleanor could see no opportunity to place the ruby on him.
Unfortunately, one of the gentlemen in their set had already had too much to drink, which meant he swayed and stumbled, making Eleanor wrinkle her nose in distaste whenever she was partnered with him. He even belched at one point, before laughing uproariously. Praying that the dance would soon be over, Eleanor turned to face Lord Thornley once more, only for the drunk gentleman behind her to knock into her.
She was flung forward headlong, her free hand flailing. Thrown bodily into Thornley, she slammed straight into him, her breath knocked from her body.
“What do you think you are doing, Bartholomew?” Thornley roared, attempting to right himself and Eleanor. “Go sit down, man.”
Eleanor, still a little dazed from what had occurred, blinked rapidly, only to remember what she was to do. Thornley’s coat pocket was close to her, and, without hesitating, Eleanor pushed the ruby and the kerchief into his pocket, just as Thornley grasped her upper arms and pushed her away from himself.
“I am all right,” Eleanor murmured, smoothing one hand over her hair.
Thornley scowled, making Eleanor aware that he had not actually asked her how she was.
“And you?” she asked, with every appearance of timidity.
His eyebrows furrowed together, his expression dark. “You have caused something of a display, Eleanor. This is not what I expect from my wife to be.”
Eleanor opened her mouth to retort that it was not her fault, but closed it again with a snap. It would not do to argue with Thornley, not when she had managed to achieve her part of the task. She had to continue with her appearance of being on a tight rein.
“Perhaps I should sit down,” she murmured, as Thornley continued to bluster. “I feel quite shaken.”
Lord Thornley snorted in derision and turned away from her, marching across the floor. Eleanor made her own way back to the side of the ballroom, moving back towards the corner where she had initially hidden herself.
She was there for a few minutes, alone, trying to bring her breathing back to normal. The next part was up to Henry.
“It is done,” she murmured, as he idly walked by her, giving her nothing more than a cursory glance. “Coat pocket.”
He gave her the briefest of nods, his eyes smiling. The nightmare was almost over.
Chapter Fifteen
Eleanor had to endure another dance with Thornley before Henry chose to enact the next part of his plan. In fact, she had to wait for a few hours before anything else happened. She had remained close to Miss Wiltshire when Lord Thornley did not require her company.
Given what scandal lay over Miss Wiltshire, very few members of society wished to talk to Eleanor, which she did not particularly mind. The ton was a changeable creature, and Eleanor was quite sure that, as soon as blame was lifted from Miss Wiltshire’s shoulders, Eleanor would be welcomed back into society with open arms. It made her quite despondent at times, as she realized what it was like to be pushed aside by the ton. Everything she had once loved had lost its sheen, until Eleanor had begun to long for a quiet life back in the country—with Henry by her side, of course.
***
Henry, too, was thinking in much the same way. He admired Eleanor for her fortitude and for her love for Miss Wiltshire, hardly believing that she seemed so enamored with him. All that he had once hoped for, he was in touching distance of attaining. How blessed he was.
“Ah, Miss Blackthorn,” Henry smiled, seeing the young lady in question rise to greet him. “I believe this is to be our dance.”
Miss Blackthorn, whom Henry knew from a prior acquaintance, was a quiet sort of girl—more of a wallflower than a diamond of the first water, but pretty nonetheless. Eleanor had mentioned her previously, and Henry had hit upon an idea.
“I feel quite ready for this,” Miss Blackthorn whispered as they walked towards the dance floor. “Although I admit that I feel as though I am a spy, involved in undercover espionage or the like.”
Henry chuckled. “Nothing of the sort, but you will be clearing Miss Wiltshire’s name, which I know Lady Brooke will be most grateful for. In fact, she has offered to assist you with the remainder of the Season, should you wish it.”
Miss Blackthorn blinked, her eyes widening slightly. “I would be delighted to accept,” she replied breathlessly. “Her kindness to me would not go unnoticed.” She looked away, her cheeks pinking slightly. “As you may know, I am a little shy, which does not particularly enamor me to others.”
Henry smiled and patted her hand. “Lady Brooke will be restored to society, and you will be her particular friend. You shall be wed very soon, I am quite sure of it.”
Miss Blackthorn’s cheeks grew red, which improved her appearance even further, as she took her place across from Henry. Feeling a little nervous, Henry gave her a reassuring nod, aware that Thornley was not only in his set but, in fact, very close to him. Eleanor was sitting beside Miss Wiltshire, who was in conversation with Miss Henstridge. It was all set up just as he had planned.
The dance began. Miss Blackthorn danced very well, although Henry himself felt like a wooden puppet, so stiff were his motions. His nervousness increased with almost every second that passed, aware that Miss Blackthorn had to play her part perfectly so that Thornley would be revealed as the jewel thief.
Miss Blackthorn caught his gaze and gave the smallest of nods and, as Henry turned to face his next partner, he saw her cross the floor to where she was meant to meet her next partner, just as Thornley made to meet his. Miss Blackthorn stumbled, just as their paths crossed, letting out a sharp cry of pain.
“My ankle!”
Henry saw her go down in a flurry of skirts, whilst Thornley stared at her, apparently utterly confused about what had happened. That was Henry’s cue.
“You trod on her foot, you big oaf!” Henry spluttered, giving him something of a hard shove as he walked towards where Miss Blackthorn sat. “You ridiculous lout. Apologize to the lady.”
Henry saw the way Thornley glared at him, his face burning red almost immediately, but given that they were now surrounded by various ladies and other gentlemen, he had no choice. In addition, the orchestra had stopped playing so that Miss Blackthorn might be looked after.
“Here, lean on me,” Henry murmured, as Miss Blacktho
rn managed to right herself, being helped to her feet by two other gentlemen. “I believe Thornley has something to say to you.”
Thornley’s jaw clenched, but he swept into a bow regardless.
“I do apologize,” he muttered, clearly wanting to escape from this situation as soon as I could. “In truth, I do not know precisely what happened, but I am told it was of my doing.”
“Can you not see the lady is crying in pain?” Henry blustered, quite amazed at the performance Miss Blackthorn was putting on. “Have you no handkerchief you can offer her?”
It was the moment he had been waiting for. Henry felt Eleanor’s eyes on him as Thornley began patting his pockets, eventually finding the handkerchief that Eleanor had placed there earlier, and, pulling it from his pocket with a flourish, handed it to Miss Blackthorn.
Something red, something sparkling, fell from the handkerchief onto the floor and, with a small sound, rested there, plain for all to see.
“What is that?” Miss Blackthorn asked, sounding quite innocent. “Lord Thornley? Is that yours?”
Henry tried desperately not to grin as Thornley’s gaze fixed upon the jewel on the floor, the redness of his cheeks slowly beginning to fade.
“That is the missing ruby,” said a lady from behind Henry’s shoulder. “That is Lord Valliant’s piece.”
“No,” Thornley interrupted, shaking his head. “No, it cannot be. That is not mine. Miss Wiltshire, she was the one who took it.”
By now, a large crowd had assembled, and Henry could hear the sound of someone calling for Lord Valliant who, evidently, was present.
“Miss Wiltshire is sitting just over there, Thornley,” Henry answered loudly. “Are you truly trying to place the blame on someone who has remained seated this entire evening?”
Thornley turned slowly, his face strained and filled with anger. “This was Eleanor’s doing,” he gritted out, drawing a gasp from the assembled crowd.
“Are you truly suggesting that your betrothed was somehow in on this scheme?” another gentleman asked, sounding horrified.