The Forbidden Valentine_Lady Eleanor Hawthorne_Regency Romance Novel

by Isabella Thorne

  Robert’s seething rage warned her and Matthew not to speak until they were free from prying ears.

  “How could you be so stupid,” Robert said. “Grandfather will be furious,”

  “Grandfather?” Lady Eleanor’s heart sank. Though she still did not understand the reason Robert felt the need to involve Grandfather, there was one thing that she knew for certain; she was in far greater trouble than she had realized. Hell hath no fury like her grandfather, The Earl of Thornwood, when faced with indiscretion, and he was even less likely to allow her to speak than her own father. Eleanor pulled off her butterfly mask and sat, holding it in her hands. Her heart sank into her shoes, tears flowing freely down her face.

  ~.~

  The Forbidden Valentine

  ~Part 4 ~

  Chapter Twenty

  Lady Eleanor and her brothers arrived home, and a surgeon was sent for to see to Robert’s arm, though the man had not yet arrived. Eleanor thought that if Robert’s arm was causing him distress, the pain had done nothing to ease his temper. Robert’s tirade continued without ceasing.

  Only moments after they reached home, Father, Mother and Eleanor’s sisters arrived home as well. Betty, who met them at the door, was summarily banished to bed, as were her other sisters. Eleanor, by virtue of the argument being about her was for the moment, bid to stay. The argument had reached fever level and her mother had not stopped weeping since she entered the house.

  Father spoke shortly to Angley. “Ask The Earl join us in the parlor,” he said. “And dismiss the rest of the staff to their rooms.” Lady Eleanor knew better than to speak. She waited for the wrath to rain down upon her. The men of her family filed into the room and the tirade gained speed.

  “Firthley attempted to purposely to ruin her.” Robert said as they entered the parlor “And would have, had I not found her out and stopped the situation.”

  Matthew turned on his brother. “You made it worse with your noise, Robert”

  “Worse? Worse than spiriting off our sister to her ruination?”

  “He didn’t,” Eleanor began but she was ignored.

  “Quiet,” Father said. “We will wait for The Earl.”

  Eleanor waited wringing her hands until her Grandfather, The Earl of Thornwood arrived. He had obviously been roused from sleep by the emergency and was not in a pleasant mood. Could this get any worse, she wondered. She could feel her brother Roberts’s anger simmering.

  “What has happened?” Grandfather asked, looking to Father for an answer.

  “There has been an incident with the Firthleys,” Father said. He directed the question at Robert, the eldest. “Exactly what happened?” Father ventured. “Tell us.”

  “We were at the Keegain’s Ball,” Robert began.

  “Yes. Yes. Get on with it,” Grandfather said as he seated himself in the large wing chair that had been left vacant for him. “What damage have they done?”

  “Eleanor was in the outer vestibule with that cad Firthley,” Robert gestured at his sister like he had so many times in their childhood, and Eleanor burned at the implication. “I fear in another moment, he would have had the silly chit out the front door!”

  “No!” Eleanor interrupted. “That is not so!” Thinking they weren’t going out they were coming in, but she bit off that thought just in time. Such an admission would not aid her.

  “This is just the way with those Firthleys,” Grandfather said without acknowledging her at all.

  “To attack the weak; to despoil the innocent,” Father said.

  “That is their way,” Grandfather agreed.

  “If I had known that they would be in attendance, I should have never allowed the girls.” Father went on.

  “Firthleys are all the worst sort of reprobates.” Grandfather continued. “Perrilyn is going to make this worse. He will bring up the old rumors. Stir up past dirt. Others will remember and then there will be no stopping it.”

  “It shall be a disaster,” Father said, rubbing his face.

  Eleanor felt as if Father and Grandfather were echoing the same rumors back and forth, gaining speed and validity. They could not all be true, she thought as she looked at Father and then Grandfather in turn until she thought her neck would break.

  The Firthleys and the Hawthornes had been two bitter points of a feud for as long as Lady Eleanor could remember, but now it was out in the open. She knew that the elder members of her family were fierce in their passion against the Firthleys. If there was anything that she had been bred to adhere to, it was their hatred for the opposing family. Blind unadulterated hatred as far as she knew, it had no purpose.

  “We have to think of Eleanor,” Matthew interjected. “Not just the Firthleys.”

  At last bringing the voice of reason, Eleanor thought. She looked to Matthew to help her.

  “Matthew’s right.” Father said. “But we have to think that this incident can ruin all the girls, not just Eleanor.” He shook his head and added. “This is what the Firthleys do. Twist and lie until all is lost.”

  Grandfather nodded. “The Firthleys will pull no stops to hasten our Eleanor’s destruction. Just as they did of old.”

  “The Firthley’s have no honor,” Father added.

  All the while Mother’s soft sobbing could be heard.

  “No.” Eleanor said, trying desperately to get a word in, to explain. Firthley did not lie to her. He had ever been the perfect gentleman. He would not wish to harm her.

  “It is alright.” Her father said as he placed his hand on her shoulder. “You could not have known, Eleanor. Besides, I have no doubt he used some untoward method to fool your innocent mind; just as your great aunt was hoodwinked. One would not have expected their depravity to sink so low as to use a maid so, but I cannot say that I am surprised. They are sneaking predators,” Father said. “Bloody bastards all.”

  “Like a creeping mold that eats away at the foundation,” Grandfather added. “Their depravity will not end until they are ended.”

  “We can be thankful that I knew well enough to keep an eye on you,” Robert said to Eleanor. “Only the Lord knows how far that Firthley intended to go to ruin us. You should have known better that to go off with him, Eleanor.”

  Eleanor would have spoken, tried to defend herself, or Firthley, but Matthew broke in on her behalf.

  “You cannot blame Eleanor,” Matthew interrupted trying once again to bring reason to the situation. “She could not know he was a Firthley,” he continued. “Hell, I didn’t know he was a Firthley, until you hit him, Robert.”

  “You hit him? Good show,” Grandfather said, noticing finally how Robert was holding his arm. “I hope you got the best of it.”

  Eleanor could not think how she could save this situation. It just kept getting worse and worse, spiraling out of control, just like the fisticuffs had at the ball. “Please,” she began.

  “She knew not to leave the main ballroom with a man,” Robert interrupted, ignoring her comment. “Any man.”

  “But she did not know he was a Firthley,” Matthew repeated. “And no one else would have known it was Eleanor, without your noise, Robert.”

  “It was a masquerade, I thought…” Eleanor began, but the argument continued apace at lightning speed around her.

  “No you didn’t think,” Father snapped, stopping her, but at least acknowledging her.

  “She’s woman,” Matthew added. “You can’t expect her to…”

  Think? Eleanor thought savagely, angry that the men would speak of her but not to her; as if she were not standing right before them. Firthley knew that she could think. He had said he admired her wit! I am a woman. That does not mean I am simple-minded. Eleanor thought vehemently.

  “Masquerades,” Grandfather interrupted Matthew. “They have ever been the cover of darkness for evil deeds. This is what happens with too much reading. It gives a woman fanciful ideas. All that fluff fills women’s heads with nonsense. Ridiculous,” Grandfather said in a more controlled voice. “Al
l that poetry …and plays, where ladies, nay women, for such are not ladies, dress as men. Such nonsense gives young girls unrealistic ideas.

  Eleanor felt her heart stop. Did Grandfather know about the secret meetings with Lord Firthley? At the poetry reading and the theater?

  “It is Shakespeare,” Eleanor began to explain.

  “It is fantasy,” Grandfather said refuting her, but at least he had heard her.

  If she could only get Grandfather to listen, for but a moment, the other men would follow suit. Surely she could get one of the men of her family to listen, to simply take a breath and wait. Lord Firthley listened to whole volumes. She had written pages, and she knew he read them, and she could not get her own father, Grandfather and brothers to listen to a single word.

  “But Grandfather,” Eleanor started into the breath of silence, but he continued apace.

  “All those ridiculous lines about men, carrying women off for love, arouse romantic notions in them. Lies all. Men carry women off for one reason and one reason only...” he said his voice rising with his passion.

  Eleanor felt a blush filling her face. It was not too far from the mark. Firthley had stirred something within her; kissed her, but why should that mean he did not love her. She did not hear the end of Grandfather’s thought because her own father stopped him, laying a hand on his arm.

  “Father. The ladies.” Eleanor’s father said sharply glancing at her and his wife who was still sobbing silently in the corner. Grandfather broke off with a grunt.

  Eleanor was surprised that her father still realized the two women were still in the room. He certainly didn’t acknowledge Eleanor, only his wife, who was still crying.

  “What?” Eleanor said into the pause. “Is it a romantic notion that men may be trusted?”

  “Eleanor,” her mother said through tears. Her mother lent an arm. Eleanor shook it off. She was angry. She did not want to be comforted.

  Her masculine family would not let her speak. When she did speak, they ignored her, but Firthley listened to pages of her thoughts. Pages! She had to find a way to stop this. She had to find a way to make them listen, but she was so angry herself, she could not formulate a plan.

  “Of course men can be trusted.” Robert said. “That is why you should have trusted us to handle the situation, and gone back to Mother as you were told.”

  “I am not a child, Robert.”

  “And that is exactly the problem,” Robert said.

  Eleanor sputtered, so angry she couldn’t speak, but Matthew moved in.

  “And if you hadn’t called him out,” Matthew said to Robert, “no one would have known he was a Firthley or that Eleanor was involved. You made this worse, Robert. Exponentially worse.

  “And Eleanor would not leave.” Robert said turning back to Matthew. “Eleanor brought this upon herself. Did you not tell her to leave? To go back to Mother? Did you not say those words, brother?” Robert turned tight lipped back to Father. “If Eleanor had returned to Mother as Matthew said, I would have ended the problem post haste.”

  “Robert!” Eleanor called appalled. He would have killed him? Her Lord Firthley? Ran him through with no more reason than a dance and a bit of conversation? This was out of hand, and she saw no way to remedy the situation, no way to stop it, or even to slow the conflagration.

  “Oh and killing the man on Keegain’s front steps would have stopped the rumors for Lily and Grace and Betty,” Matthew said sarcastically. “Poor little Betty who wasn’t even there! Do you even think, Robert?”

  Eleanor felt a knot of guilt. She had not meant to involve her sisters in this, but they were involved by the very virtue of their name.

  “I do not know what is to be done for Eleanor,” Father said. He rubbed his hand over his face as if the whole of the incident had exhausted him. “But the others…” He sighed. “We must devise a plan; something to halt this catastrophe.”

  “And anticipate Firthley’s next move,” Grandfather added.

  “I think our best hope is to refute any claims and hope that the pair had truly not been observed by any other than her own brother,” Matthew suggested. “Though, Eleanor was the cause of the fight. The implication, even without proof may be enough to ruin her.”

  “We should remove to the county,” Grandfather said. “Immediately.”

  “Or at least send Eleanor home,” Father said nodding as if Grandfather’s idea was his own. “Out of sight…”

  “No!” Eleanor cried. “No, Father, don’t.” At the country house, she would have no chance at all.

  Her mother laid a hand on her father’s arm and protested, softly not for Eleanor, but for the other girls. “All the expense of a season, for Lily and Grace,” she said. “Can we not salvage something for their sake?”

  “Truly Father,” Matthew added his weight to Mother’s argument. “Surely we cannot run from the Firthleys?”

  “Bloody scoundrel,” The Earl shouted. “Young Matthew is right. We Hawthornes will not be run from Town over the inability of the Firthleys to keep their eyes on their own lawn!”

  For a moment Eleanor thought the argument would burst into flame again, but it seemed to have burned to a simmering heat, all the hotter for being contained.

  “We will not run,” Father agreed. “But Eleanor must be restricted. If the Ton does not see her, perhaps this will calm.

  “It won’t,” Grandfather predicted. “The Firthley’s will fan these flames around our feet, to burn our girls’ reputations and label them all Hawthorne witches. I knew the old man. The late Perrilyn was a cruel and vengeful man. The son is no different. This is a plot against our family make no mistake.”

  No, Eleanor thought, it was not. Lord Firthley was not like that. He wouldn’t.

  “You cannot compare one generation to the next,” Eleanor argued. ”You cannot. I am as different from you as the night to the day.”

  “You are a woman,” her Father said as if that explained everything. “Lud,” he said defeated. “Well then, even if we do not return to the country, Eleanor must not be seen.”

  “You will be confined to the house,” Grandfather said. “No more poetry readings or theater excursions.”

  “But…” Eleanor began, although truthfully being confined to the house was a light punishment in view of the fact that she could have been sent back to the country house. Grandfather continued talking as if she had not spoken.

  “Your Father and I will speak on the possibilities of a match for you. There are several, if this business with Firthley does not drive them away. Best for the other girls if we can get Eleanor married as soon as possible.”

  Eleanor felt her heart sink to the floor.

  “The only way to stop this is to fight fire with fire,” Grandfather said gesturing to Robert. “After all, the reprobate broke your arm at a function of the Ton. We should write apologies to Keegain immediately for the rout while explaining that none of the problem was ours to fix. Firthley was to blame.”

  No!” Eleanor cried.

  “Firthley broke your arm with no provocation but the fact that your name is Hawthorne. Leave Eleanor out of it, I think,” Father said.

  “Others saw her there,” Matthew pointed out. “She intervened. She tried to stop the fight.”

  “As a woman would,” Grandfather said smoothly. “Soft hearted and naïve in the ways of the world. She feared for her brother.”

  Father nodded. “That may work.”

  “No!” Eleanor cried again. “I shan’t let you do that. I shan’t let you blame Firthley when Robert was at fault. Robert threw the first punch, not Firthley. You do not know him.”

  “Eleanor,” Father said.

  But she went right on speaking even though it was out of turn. She could not let this continue. It had gone too far already. “Father, I had to stop it. Firthley did not even defend himself for love of me. Robert would have killed him.”

  “Love?” Father said. And all conversation stopped. “How can he do anything for
love you when you have only just met?”

  The room was dead silence. Eleanor stood frozen. Now, they wanted her to speak. Now they wanted to listen. She felt the walls crumble around her like a slow devastation, burying possibilities, and she could not breathe. She wondered if Juliet in the crypt was not in a better place, but Eleanor gathered her courage. She could not let Firthley take the blame for this alone. She would not. If nothing else, she would do that much for him. She had to protect him. One of them, her father or her brothers would surely kill him if she did not calm the situation. She took a breath and lifted her chin.

  “I know I was improper,” she admitted then cleared her throat. “I acted rashly and I understand that my willfulness has left a tarnish upon my reputation.”

  Lord Robert laughed humorlessly, but did not speak.

  “But as Matthew said, it was a masquerade,” she began again.

  “And that gives you license to act immorally?” Father spat.

  That of course, was not what she was going to say. “I did not” she argued. “We only left the ballroom for a moment…”

  “Exactly, you left the ballroom,” Robert snapped. “What does that make you then?”

  “Me?” She sucked in her breath remembering her own brother calling her a bird of paradise at the ball.

  “At fault Eleanor; through stupidity or malice.”

  Eleanor opened her mouth and shut it again. Those were her choices? What nonsense! “I only wished to speak with him.”

  “What could you possibly have to say to a man you have just met?” Father asked with soft steel. He left the question hanging and Eleanor knew she had to answer.

  She was caught now, but she would not cower. She realized that eventually the truth would come out. She should be the one to speak it. “We did not just meet,” she said defiantly. “We love one another.”