by Brooke, Meg
She took a few quick steps towards Leo, opening her mouth to utter some explanation, but he held up a hand.
“Get on your horse and go back to the house, Eleanor,” he said in a voice that indicated he would not listen to any arguments.
She did not even hesitate. She crossed the clearing to where Mabon waited, climbed into the saddle, and cast a rueful glance back at where Colin still stood in the shade of the cottage’s overhang before she rode away towards the great house.
Once she was out of sight of the clearing, however, she turned her horse and urged him into a gallop, speeding away through the trees towards the south hill. She did not stop until they reached the ruins, and by then she had already begun to cry. She practically fell from the saddle, brushing errant strands of hair from her face, wiping at her tears as she did. She sucked in a shaky breath and began to pace, trying to fight back a sob.
How could she have been so stupid? How had she managed to convince herself that they would not be caught? Just because she had managed to keep her first indiscretion a secret did not mean that she would always be able to do so. She had succumbed to the temptation, the lascivious side of her nature, and it had gotten her into trouble again. Only this time her mother would not be able to save her, and nor, she suspected, would Leo.
Her brother would be honor bound to either force Colin to offer for her or challenge him to a duel. Eleanor tried to imagine her brother dueling with anyone—he didn’t even fence, though she knew he could fire a gun reliably enough.
But he and Colin were friends, or they had been at one time. Just like before, Eleanor had destroyed that. Now, unless she married him, it would be impossible for her brother to associate with Colin again.
Cursing her foolishness, Eleanor threw herself down onto one of the low, loose stones that had once made up part of the castle’s wall. Absurdly, she found herself thinking of Pride and Prejudice. She, like every girl of sixteen, had read it a dozen times. Just like every other girl who had ever picked up a copy of the tale, she had known what she was meant to think of Lydia Bennet: poor, stupid, wanton girl, undone by her own wild and unprincipled behavior. But instead of cursing Lydia for an unrepentant strumpet, Eleanor had been ashamed to discover on her fourth or fifth reading of the story that she sympathized with her. In the wake of her own downfall, Eleanor had seen not a spoiled, selfish, reckless child but a girl who craved love and affection, who saw that she was a disappointment and an embarrassment to everyone around her, who jumped at the chance to be valued by someone. Eleanor was no student of human nature, but even she was able to recognize the gaping void that had been left in her life by her father’s death, and the desperation she had felt to fill it. He had been the only person who had ever wholeheartedly approved of her, who had never told her to change, who had always valued her for exactly what she was. With only her mother’s increasingly hopeless expectations, was it any wonder Eleanor had fallen for the one person who seemed to believe that she was perfect, that she could never be a disappointment?
Yet even at the age of sixteen Eleanor had been able to recognize that there was some flaw in her character, that there was something in her nature that was not as it ought to be. For what girl who was worthy of a parent’s love and approval would do what she had done, would throw herself away on a man she knew she would never be allowed to marry?
So Eleanor had hidden what had happened between her and Toby, had spent a terrified month praying that there would never be any evidence of her shame, and had hoped that she would never have to reveal to her family how wicked she had been. She had played the role well, she thought. She had managed until now to avoid a marriage, which she knew would force her to reveal her disgrace, for even though she was a fallen woman she still had her pride. She could not bear the thought of a man treating her like damaged goods for the rest of her life because of a youthful indiscretion. And until now she had managed to suppress that dark part of herself, that wanting she had felt for Toby.
But the desire she felt for Colin was a different thing. It was like a fire inside her, a hunger that could not be sated. With Toby she had felt the wanting, the desire for something more than the relatively chaste kisses they had shared, but when it was over she had felt only shame and despair. Now, however, even through her embarrassment, she could not regret what had happened. The encounter in the lodge had only left her wanting more, and God help her, she could not truly be sorry that they would be forced to marry. She knew she ought to regret the inconvenience she would cause him, the trouble that would no doubt arise from this horribly bungled situation, but she could not find it within herself to do so. She could, however, feel ashamed at her lack of remorse, and she certainly did.
Wiping the last of her tears from her cheeks, she tucked her knees up against her chest and wrapped her arms around them, giving herself over to a fit of melancholy. She was not sure how long she sat there, but the sun when winning to descend when she began to wonder if she hadn't better go back to the house and face her doom.
Far in the distance she heard the thunder of hooves approaching. She could not bring herself to look back along the ridge. She tried to prepare herself for the confrontation, for who else could it be but Leo, come to scold her for her idiotic selfishness?
The hoof beats slowed, and she finally forced herself to turn. It was not Leo, after all.
"Eleanor, thank God!" Colin cried as he leapt from the back of his still-slowing horse and rushed towards her. "Why couldn't you go back to the house as you were bid?"
She laughed bitterly. "Haven't you discovered yet that I rarely live up to expectations, My Lord?"
He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at her. "So it's 'My Lord' again, is it?"
She shrugged, but said nothing more.
"Dammit, Eleanor, look at me."
She lifted her chin and met his eyes defiantly.
But in his expression she read not anger, but relief. "Do you have any idea how worried I was? How worried we all were?"
"Leo would have known where to find me," she protested, though in truth she was not certain her brother knew her that well any longer.
He shook his head. "He didn't know. He was terrified you had been hurt or taken like...like Yates, until I remembered this place."
"How did you know I would be here?"
"Remember what I told you—you don't hide your thoughts well. I saw the day before yesterday how important this place is to you."
Had it only been two days ago that she had brought him here? "I suppose you're right," she said. "But you needn't have worried."
He dropped down onto the rock, resting his head in his hands. "You don't know what these men are capable of, Eleanor."
"On the contrary," she said, thinking of the body by the river, "I have a very good idea."
But now he lifted his head to meet her eyes. "That was nothing. If they had found you, if they had taken you..." He didn't need to finish.
"Well, they didn't."
He reached out and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin atop her head. "Please don't do that again," he said. He was trembling, and it frightened her as his words hadn't.
"All right," she said.
"This isn't why I came up here," he said.
"I know."
"Leo and I had a...well, I won't pretend it was anything less than a tongue-lashing," he said, laughing softly. "I think we're very lucky your brother didn't shoot me on the spot."
She pulled away and looked up at him, seeing for the first time the swelling beginning to appear under his left eye. “He did a little more than scold you, didn’t he?”
Colin nodded. “He let me escape with my life, though.”
“I’m glad he did.”
"You may not be when you hear what I have to say next."
She steeled her nerves. "Go ahead."
He smiled. "Try not to sound so thrilled," he said.
"We have made our bed," she said, and then she l
ooked away, "and I must admit that I won't be sorry to lie in it."
"I'm glad to hear it. It will make your brother's wishes easier to carry out."
"And what does Viscount Sidney command?"
"We are to be married on Tuesday."
"Why Tuesday?"
He frowned. "The Princess Victoria and her retinue will be arriving as planned on Wednesday."
"Oh, dear," she said.
"My sentiments...well, not exactly. I used rather coarser words."
"I don't blame you."
"Anyway, it would not be appropriate for us to be under the same roof and unmarried with her in the house, so it is to be Tuesday. Your brother will ride to Norwich tomorrow for the license."
She nodded. "Very well," she said.
"Eleanor," he said, his voice suddenly very serious, "you are not of age, and your brother has the final say over your husband, but that does not mean his is the only opinion that matters. I will not marry you unwilling."
"I don't believe I have been asked yet," she said.
"You are right," he laughed, and he slid off the rock and went down on one knee. Then he took her hand in his and looked earnestly up at her.
Eleanor thought that this was perhaps the most absurd thing that had ever happened to her. She wondered if another woman had ever been proposed to in the ruins of a castle with her face still red from weeping. “Eleanor,” Colin said, looking very determined, “will you marry me?”
She nodded. “I will.”
He kissed her hand, holding it to his lips for a long moment. “Good,” he said at last. “Now, we had better return to the house before your brother goes mad with worry.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, allowing him to help her up off the rock. “My brother has never worried about me a moment in his life.”
He squeezed her hand. “You do not see how precious you are to them. Perhaps they have not made you feel it.” She smiled and tried to pull away, but he held her tightly, pulling her back to him for a kiss. “I will not make the same mistake, Eleanor. You will always know just how important you are to me.”
“Colin,” she protested, “we have barely known each other five days.”
He cupped her face in his hands and forced her to look up at him. “I feel as though it has been five years,” he said. “I know you, Eleanor. I see you for who you are, and I would never ask you to change.”
She felt tears spring to her eyes. He wiped them away.
“Why are you crying?” he asked.
She made a rather indelicate snuffling sound and then laughed at her silliness. “You said exactly the right thing,” she explained.
“Thank God,” he said. “If your brother thought I had made you cry, he would probably shoot me still, engaged or not. Now, let’s get back to the house before he sends out a search party.”
Eleanor allowed him to help her into her saddle, and then they rode down the hill to tell her mother of their engagement.
When Eleanor had disappeared into the trees, Colin turned to the man who had once been his friend. “Leo,” he said, though he was not sure what on earth he meant to say next.
“Don’t,” Leo said, holding up a hand. He dropped gracefully out of the saddle and came towards Colin, his eyes full of menacing wrath. “Don’t say a word. How dare you, Colin? I trusted you with my family’s safety. You promised me you would protect them. Weren’t those your exact words not five days ago in London? And now not only have you allowed a man to be murdered on my property, but you have...for God’s sake, Colin, she’s my sister!”
“I know,” Colin said, holding up his hands in surrender.
Leo crossed his arms. “And?”
Colin shrugged. “I wish I could say I was sorry,” he said. “But I’m not.”
So quickly that he had no time to prepare, Leo raised his fist and punched Colin, hard. The blow landed beneath his left eye. Colin staggered backward, though he managed not to cry out in pain. When he stopped seeing stars, he said, “I deserved that.”
“You deserve a good deal more,” Leo growled. “But I need you alive to make an honest woman out of Eleanor. Lord, who would have thought it of her?”
“You mustn’t blame her,” Colin insisted. “She did nothing wrong.” It was not strictly true, but Colin would never admit that it was Eleanor who had started the whole thing.
“You don’t have to tell me that,” Leo said, “Of the four of us, Eleanor is the one who never puts a toe out of line. I would have expected something like this of Maris, but Eleanor?”
“I will, of course, be asking her for her hand. If you approve, that is.”
“How can I possibly refuse now?” Leo demanded. He rubbed a hand over his face as though he were trying to wake up from some terrible nightmare. “What a time for this to happen.”
“What does that mean?”
“Sir John refused to alter his plans,” Leo said. “They will arrive as expected on Wednesday.”
Colin nodded stiffly. It was no less than he had expected, and yet somehow he had still allowed himself to hope that the man would see reason. “And the Duchess of Kent?”
Leo shook his head sadly. “Determined to go through with it. The good news is that there was a letter waiting for me at the great house from Colonel Taylor, who is stationed in Stokesby. He and forty men will be arriving tomorrow morning. Once they arrive, I will ride to Norwich for a special license, and you and my sister will be married on Tuesday. It cannot possibly wait any longer than that—to have the two of you living in the same house without the benefit of marriage vows while we entertain the future queen of England is unthinkable.”
“Very well,” Colin said, seeing that there was no point in arguing.
“I cannot see how it could possibly matter to you, but she has a dowry of forty thousand pounds.”
Colin had nothing to say to that. Of course, he could provide for Eleanor without the help of her dowry. It would go into a trust for any children they might have. But before he could think of such possibilities, there was another bridge to cross. “I suppose I had better go and propose,” he said.
“I suppose so,” Leo agreed. Colin started towards his horse, but Leo put a hand on his sleeve to stop him. “I am glad it is you, Colin, and not that pup Hollier. It is unfortunate that it had to happen this way, and I don’t want you thinking I’m not furious, but once I have gotten over it, which may be many years from now, I’m sure I will be grateful to you for keeping her from him.” He paused, and for a moment Colin thought he would let him go without saying any more, but then Leo sighed and added, “She may have loved him once, but he was not worthy of her, and she still believes that it was she who was not good enough. If you break her heart, I will put a bullet between your eyes. Don’t think I can’t do it.”
Colin was certain Leo was capable of anything where the happiness of his sisters was concerned. “I won’t let you down, Leo. Thank you.” Then Leo released his arm, and he got back on his horse and rode away through the trees towards the great house.
THIRTEEN
When they finally rode back into the stableyard, John Mowbray came out to take Eleanor’s horse. As she climbed out of the saddle, feeling rather sore and completely exhausted, Eleanor gave her old friend a wan smile. For a second she considered telling John what had happened—not at the lodge, of course, but that she and Colin were now engaged. But then she cast a nervous glance up at the windows of the great house. Her mother ought to be told first, she supposed.
As she followed Colin into the hall, she asked, “What have you told my mother?”
“Nothing,” he said. “I think Leo asked her if you had returned, and when we realized you hadn’t he and I tried to keep it quiet. He didn’t think it was wise to worry her.”
“No,” Eleanor said quietly. “No, she has had enough of that. Thank you for not alarming her. I suppose we ought to go up and tell her now.” She cast a resigned glance into the salon, which housed the grand staircase leading up t
o the family rooms. Somehow she could not make her feet move in that direction.
Colin’s fingers laced through hers. “We can wait until tomorrow, if you like.”
But Eleanor shook her head stubbornly. “No, it must be tonight. But I suppose you need to confer with Mr. Strathmore.”
Colin nodded, looking grim. “He had not returned yet when last I was here—he went down into the village to see if there was any news about Yates’s body, apparently. But even if he hasn’t returned, I’m sure there will be plenty to keep me occupied. There are a great many things to be done before the militia arrives tomorrow.”
She turned to face him. “The militia are coming here?”
“Colonel Taylor’s regiment is coming up from Stokesby. Forty men.”
She blanched. “Where on earth will they stay?”
He shrugged, and she felt a sudden rush of gratitude to her brother for hitting him so that she didn’t have to attempt it. How could he be so casual about this? “Aren’t there rooms for them here?”
“Every room is spoken for,” she cried. “It was trouble enough finding space for you and Strathmore! Now I must house a colonel and forty men?”
He put a calming hand on her shoulder. “We will figure something out, Eleanor. But we need those men.”
“I know,” she said resignedly. He was right, of course. But the arrival of forty men in addition to the princess and all her party might be more than she could handle. “I certainly have my work cut out for me. And I must plan a wedding on top of it all.”
He kissed her temple, “I’m sure you’ll manage it admirably. You are the most capable woman I’ve ever met. I’m quite fortunate, actually—just think, in two or three years with you by my side I could become Foreign Secretary!”