Thankfully Lady Whittonstall’s prediction had proved correct. A dressmaker which Ben’s late wife had used did indeed have a complete wardrobe which could easily be restyled for her. Rather than dressing in her old practical style of muslin Eleanor now had gowns of every hue, and in a variety of fabrics. Her dressing room positively dripped with boas, sashes and lace shawls. All of which had to be worn negligently. And she had discovered that, given the right cut, ruffles did improve her assets.
In the privacy of her room she had practised for hours the art of seeming negligent and careless, as well as taking lessons at Lady Jersey’s dancing school so that she had mastered the steps of the various reels.
The only trouble was that she wasn’t entirely sure she enjoyed it. And she’d had barely time to attend to Moles business, let alone fence with Ben. Rather than growing closer together, as she’d hoped, they seemed to be drifting apart as Ben had started to spend more time at his club.
Eleanor raised her chin. After tonight’s triumph that would stop. Everything would become wonderful once Ben had seen how well she did.
‘Ellie? May I finally see you in all your finery?’ Ben came into the room and stopped. ‘You look divine. The sort of creature who is more likely to inhabit a fairy glen than be on earth with us mortals.’
The heat burnt on her cheeks. Did Ben really think that? Ben’s black silk breeches and cutaway coat perfectly complemented his figure. ‘I could say the same for you.’
‘My tailor has done a good job, and thankfully—unlike some—I do not have to pad my calves.’ He pointed his foot. ‘You see—all real.’
‘I never doubted it.’
A tiny frown appeared between his brows. ‘It was a joke to make you relax. Tonight should be pleasant and memorable, Ellie, but it will not change the course of your life.’
‘Do you really like my gown?’ Eleanor gave another twirl. Her heart pounded fast as she waited for his verdict.
During one of their intensive practice sessions Lady Whittonstall had confided that Ben had fallen for Alice just before her first visit to Almack’s. She hated that she’d pinned her hopes on it happening again. It should not matter a jot, but it did. She wanted Ben to be proud of her and what she could accomplish in his circle.
Tonight was when she would clearly demonstrate that she belonged there, rather than being some abomination as her stepfather had claimed. Tonight she wanted him to be proud of her.
He tilted his head to one side and his eyes slowly assessed her. Eleanor kept her chin up and her shoulders back, making sure the ostrich feathers in her blue silk turban didn’t tremble.
‘What have you done to your hair?’ he finally asked. ‘You have had it cut.’
‘Grecian curls are the thing to wear at the moment. I think they rather suit me—particularly with this turban.’ Eleanor resisted the urge to pat her hair. She had nearly cried when her hair was cut, but afterwards she’d had to admit the style suited her. It made her look younger, and her eyes appeared more in proportion with her mouth.
‘They certainly make you look different.’ His smile did not quite reach his eyes. ‘I have a hard time thinking of you as a fearsome businesswoman. There is definitely not the whiff of commerce about you tonight. One would think you spent your days devoted to pleasure rather than getting the Bow Street Runners order sorted.’
‘I’m very grateful to Lady Jersey for suggesting the combination. She has been more than kind.’ Eleanor struggled to keep from crying. She had built this moment up. She had remade her life to be the sort of woman he would appreciate. And he didn’t appear to appreciate her new look at all.
His mouth twisted. ‘Between Lady Jersey and my mother I have barely had a chance to speak two words to you over the last week.’
‘After tonight it will end. Life will return to normal. Our business is nearly finished here.’
His eyes filled with pity and remorse. She wanted to reach out and wipe that sadness away, but instead she clasped her hands together and silently willed him to tell her what was wrong.
‘After tonight it will begin,’ he said. ‘You will be the toast of London. Invitations will arrive. A breakfast here, an invitation to Vauxhall there. Another
soirée or dinner party. A reason to stay in London. Before you know it, it will be Christmas.’
‘I doubt that.’
‘The invitations are already flooding in.’ He caught her hand and raised it to his lips. The touch was cool and impersonal. ‘You only have to decide which ones you want to attend and which ones you’d rather not. You have spent a long time practising. You need to be able to show off your dancing slippers. Moles will be able to spare you for a few weeks, if that is what you decide.’
‘I do hope I get the reels right.’ Eleanor focused on a spot beyond his shoulder. This interview was not going the way she had planned. ‘Miss Martyn told me several horror stories when we were in our dancing class together. My mind positively whirls with all the different steps I am supposed to know. And if I get them wrong everyone will see.’
‘I’m sure you will be fine. You are taking this far too seriously.’ Ben held out his arm. ‘Your carriage to your new life awaits, my lady.’
She concentrated on gathering her fan and reticule. All the time she’d spent in happy anticipation of these last few moments before Almack’s—how he’d suddenly see what an asset she was—and they’d been awful. Worse than awful. She felt as if she were a player in a play rather than someone on the brink of a marvellous evening.
Eleanor swallowed hard and tried to regain her initiative.
‘Is something wrong? Have I done something wrong? Is it my hair or my dress?’
‘They are up to the minute. Why do you think something is wrong?’
‘You seem so reserved.’
A muscle twitched beside his eye. ‘Nothing at all is wrong. Everything is how I hoped it would be when I first suggested coming down to London. Stop seeing shadows where there are none and concentrate on enjoying tonight.’
‘I love you.’
The words slipped out before she could stop them. Eleanor froze, and in the ensuing silence desperately wished she could unsay them. She willed Ben to do something—anything rather than look at her with a numbed expression of disbelief.
‘Why now? Why are you telling me this now?’ The finality of his tone underlined her error.
‘I wanted to tell you before...before tonight...in case anything untoward happened.’ She winced, hating the way she stumbled over the explanation. It sounded
pathetic and false.
He regarded her, and if anything his manner became more glacial. ‘What am I supposed to do? What do you want from me, Eleanor?’
Eleanor bit her lip. This was not the way she’d dreamt it. He was supposed to enfold her in his arms and whisper how much he loved her, how love had sneaked up unawares on him, and seeing her like this had made it all crystal-clear.
Eleanor shrugged a shoulder. ‘Only you can say.’
‘I dislike playing these sorts of games, Eleanor. We are about to go out to Almack’s and you make this bold statement. You must know what you require from me.’
If anything, Eleanor’s heart sank lower. She raised her chin and met his ice-cold gaze. She tried to reach the man she knew was inside him—the one who had held her when she’d lost the baby, who had shared his guilt and who had forced her to fence again and rediscover her joy in life.
‘I know you didn’t ask for it, but I wanted to tell you anyway.’ Eleanor strove for a natural tone. ‘It just happened. I appreciate all you have done for me and it seemed the best way to express it. Tonight is the start of a new chapter in my life and I wanted to thank you for giving that to me. That’s why I said it. I don’t expect anything from it, nor will I repeat it.’
He watched her with inscrutab
le eyes and an expression of sorrow crossed his face.
He felt sorry for her! Eleanor tightened her hand about the delicate fan.
‘You will be fine, Ellie. I did what any husband would do for his bride. You mustn’t build me up to be something I’m not.’
‘I hope so.’ Inside her heart was dying. Ben didn’t seem to understand. She could hardly explain that she wanted reassurance. She had taken a chance and lost. She had wanted to explain while she knew who she was. She’d also wanted an answer and knew she had had it. He had not fallen instantly in love with her. He was only doing his duty towards her as he saw it.
She’d survive. She wasn’t sure her heart would, though.
‘Shall we go and get this over with?’ she said around the thick lump in her throat.
* * *
Ben knew the instant he had said the words that he had made a mistake. He felt it even more keenly here in Almack’s crowded ballroom, where Eleanor was such an obvious success. Men queued to claim her hand in the dance and he let her go, despite his inclination to throw her over his shoulder and take her far away from this place. Tonight was her moment. He knew he couldn’t begrudge her an instant. But each time she took to the dance floor with someone else he felt her slipping away. He was losing her. He loved her and he’d driven her away.
Worse still, he knew why he’d made light of Ellie’s declaration and why he’d wanted to run. Why he’d been callous and unfeeling when his natural instinct had been to gather her in his arms. Fear.
When Eleanor had stood in front of him holding out her hands she had reminded him of the night of Alice’s debut at Almack’s. She too had held out her hands and given her declaration. Then, every night before a ball or other gaiety, she’d said the same thing, until it had become a ritual saying of words rather than an expression of deep meaning.
He did not want history to repeat itself. He had no desire to lose Eleanor as he’d lost Alice. The knowledge had clogged his throat and he’d given in to his fear.
He’d tried to rationalise his behaviour but he knew he’d hurt her. If she didn’t know that he loved her and demanded proof then she didn’t want to see. And he didn’t want only to say the words to an elegantly coiffured woman just before they went out. He wanted to whisper the words when they made love, or at breakfast time, or any time that he pleased. But he’d handled it badly. Now he had to recover—if he could recover. Otherwise he’d lose her for ever. And that would be the worst punishment of all.
The orchestra finished its latest reel and Viv led Eleanor back to Ben.
‘Is it as magical as you remember?’ he asked in an undertone. He put his hand under her elbow and felt her start to pull away.
‘Magical?’ Eleanor stared at him in astonishment and tried to think. She’d spent the entire evening wishing she was some place other than here. All her plans had backfired. She might be a success, but she felt as if she had lost. She wished she had never made her declaration out loud.
‘On the first picnic we shared you told me about your memory.’ He gave her hand a squeeze. ‘I wanted this to be special. I wanted it to bring joy back to your life.’
A warm pulse went through her. He remembered that? She couldn’t confess how much she was hating this. Or rather, not hating—but compared to making swords it seemed trivial and false. She could dance the reels, smile and make small polite talk, but it was never going be the centre of her existence as it was for Lady Whittonstall.
‘I...I suppose so,’ she stammered. ‘Yes, definitely unlike anything I have experienced before.’
He nodded, seemingly satisfied. ‘I want it to be.’
‘Because you want me to like balls? Do you want to spend the season in London? This is the sort of thing you love.’
His gaze darkened. ‘Do not confuse my taste with my mother’s.’
‘Then why have you pushed me?’
‘Because I want you to enjoy yourself in the way you should have done if your life had been different. Everyone is impressed with you. I overhead Mr Brummell making one of his remarks, and it was far more complimentary than is his normal fare.’
‘You are seeking to distract me.’ Eleanor crossed her arms. ‘I thought you enjoyed this sort of life.’
‘You are dismissing a compliment, Ellie. Why do you do that?’
Her face grew hot with humiliation. Hadn’t he seen her mistakes in the last reel with Viv? Or had he not even bothered watching? She was never going to achieve perfection. Tonight was an unmitigated disaster. ‘Because it is a lie.’
‘You are overreacting. Nobody expected perfection.’
Nobody but her. She had wanted it and had dreamt about it. Tonight was supposed to be her chance to be triumphant and for Ben to fall madly in love with her. She’d planned everything and it hadn’t worked. ‘Shall we forget it, Ben?’
‘No. You always do this. You look gorgeous. You dance beautifully. You should be proud of what you have achieved. But you shouldn’t be doing it because you have some misguided notion that it will make me happy.’
She stared at him. Her stomach hit her knees. He didn’t understand. He wanted to give her this because he didn’t want to give of himself. The knowledge made her insides shrivel. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I’d like to go now. The evening is starting to overwhelm me.’
‘Yes, we can depart.’
Ben put his hand under her elbow and led her through the throng and out to where their carriage waited. The coachman came up instantly and lit the lamps. Eleanor tried to keep her gaze straight ahead.
‘Ellie?’ Ben said once the carriage started. ‘Before we go home there is somewhere I want to take you. It might explain why I reacted the way I did tonight.’
‘You were right. It was nerves. I am over it now. A lapse of manners.’ Eleanor hated how the words tasted like ash. ‘Why I was so afraid I don’t know. It was the sort of place that Algernon would enjoy. I would like to go home—back to where I belong.’ She bit back the words without you.
‘Even still, I want to take you there. I believe I hurt you earlier, and that was the last thing I intended.’
They travelled in silence for a little way, and then the carriage stopped before a church gate. Ben took one of the lamps from the coachman and beckoned to Eleanor. ‘It is just down this path.’
Eleanor drew her shawl tighter about her shoulders and followed after him. He stopped before a simple headstone. The names on the headstone stood out. A small shiver went down her spine. Of all the places in the world, this was the last place she wanted to be.
‘Why do we need to come to Alice’s grave?’
‘Because I want you to understand about this evening and why I reacted the way I did. This is the only way I can think of to do it. The only way in which I can convince you.’ The lantern highlighted the intentness of his face. ‘Please hear me out before you decide.’
‘It doesn’t matter. I won’t make that particular mistake again.’ Eleanor forced her back to be straight. Whatever happened, she refused to be pathetic again. She might love him, but she knew she’d asked too much to want his love in return. She’d been wrong to believe that she could make him love her. From here on she’d behave as she wanted to.
‘I hurt you earlier. Don’t deny it. I saw it in your face. I see it in your face now. It was unforgivable of me—particularly on your debut at Almack’s.’
Eleanor put her hand on her stomach and willed herself not to cry. He’d noticed her hurt. It shouldn’t matter, but it did. He cared for her—just not in the way she’d hoped. ‘Say what you have to say. But I understand your heart is for ever buried. I was over the hurt by the time we arrived, and I was a triumph—in case you hadn’t noticed.’
He placed the lantern on the ground and turned to face her. His face was incredibly intent as he gestured towards the grave.
Eleanor forgot how to breathe. All she could do was stare at him.
‘However, I don’t want my old life back. That one has ended. I am not the same person. I want to live my new one as the person I am now.’
‘I don’t understand.’
He ran his hand through his hair. ‘Alice had a little ritual of saying she loved me every time she went to a ball. It started with that first ball at Almack’s. It was the only time she ever said it. In the end they became meaningless words—a talisman that meant I knew any flirting on her part was just that: light-hearted flirting. I feared you were seeking to copy her—or worse still trying to give me my old life back when I want my new life. It unnerved me and I became frightened. I’m sorry, but I have no desire to return there. I want you only to want me in your life, rather than needing a string of men to hang on your every word.’
Eleanor looked at the carved names on the headstone. Her heart soared and for the first time she felt sorry for the lady who lay there. Superficially she might have had everything, but she’d been unable truly to love.
‘I didn’t mean to frighten you,’ she whispered.
‘It wasn’t you but my feelings for you. They sneaked up on me and I became scared. The more I knew you, the more I wanted you in my life. I became afraid of losing you, having my heart break all over again.’ He put his arms about her. ‘I need you, Ellie. You give my life meaning. I thought if I didn’t say it then I wouldn’t tempt fate. But I refuse to stand by and let you slip away from me. You are far too important to me, and if you need words then you shall have them.’
She rested her head on his chest and listened to the steady thump of his heart.
‘We have been at cross-purposes,’ she said, looking up at him. ‘All I wanted to do tonight was demonstrate that I could take my place at your side whatever the circumstance. I had hoped you would fall instantly in love with me because of how I looked and my accomplishments. I thought if I became perfect then maybe...’
His Unsuitable Viscountess Page 23