So Aunt May had been right! Lord Giles had considered asking to court her. Her aunt fancied Lord Giles, heir to a sizable estate and a significant title, to be a perfect suitor. Eunice was aware that most women would have been delighted to have him court them. But not she. How could Lord Giles profess to be Cecil’s friend, then try to squash him when he considered him a rival? How could he knowingly reverse all the hard work Cecil had employed in his efforts to avoid drink and tobacco?
She could never love—let alone wed—any man who could be so cruel. Let Lord Giles be some other woman’s unfortunate problem. Her concern was Cecil and the consequences of his relapse.
“Father in heaven,” she prayed, “I humbly implore Thee to deliver Cecil from this temptation and to keep him from yielding if he should be tempted in the future. Please help him to avoid the type of company who would ply him with temptations. I regret, Father in heaven, that I was unknowingly the cause for Cecil’s strong temptation. Let me not play such a role in his future. Give him strength, oh Lord. In the name of Thy Son, Jesus Christ, amen.”
Later, as she entered the house, she hoped to avoid Aunt May. Unfortunately for Eunice, her aunt bumped into her in the hallway. “What are you doing back so early?” Aunt May asked. “I thought surely you would be at Abigail’s all afternoon.” Obviously sensing something was amiss, she took Eunice by the forearm. “What happened? Was Cecil upset by the news that he cannot see you again?”
Eunice hesitated.
“You did tell him as you promised. Did you not?”
She couldn’t look her aunt in the eye. “Not in so many words. Not yet.”
“Eunice! You disappoint me.”
“I beg your indulgence. But you see, he had a visitor. Lord Giles.”
“Oh.” Aunt May’s face brightened, and she let go of Eunice’s arm. “Were you and Lord Giles able to exchange pleasantries?”
Eunice thought for a moment. How could she answer without either worrying her aunt or telling a lie?
“We saw each other briefly, but there was very little time for pleasantries. I did have tea in Abigail’s parlor, but then I left.” She prayed her convoluted version of the afternoon’s events wasn’t too close to being a falsehood. She added one more observation that she knew to be the unvarnished truth. “I fear that Lord Sutton is not ready to attend any dinner we might host here. I regret to say that he may never be.”
“I see,” her aunt answered, although a puzzled light in her eyes indicated she wasn’t sure she comprehended the situation in the least. “Then your lessons were for naught?”
“No good deed is for naught.”
“You are right. Well then, why not put all this worry behind?” Aunt May suggested. “Shall both of us go to the church? I told them you would not be available to wrap bandages for the hospital, but since you are here, you may as well go and share the work and the fellowship.”
Eunice was in no mood to see anyone. All she desired was to lose herself in a book or to drown her troubles in sleep. But she couldn’t deny her aunt. “Will Violet be there?”
“I think so.”
At least she could look forward to one bright prospect. “Very well. I shall go.”
“Good. Better to spend your time in service to others than to mope around here thinking of Lord Sutton.”
For the hundredth time, Eunice wished her aunt didn’t know her so well. Perhaps she was right. Why should she spend all her time thinking and dreaming of something that could never be? Better to remain a spinster, valued for high service, than to be like Olivia, flitting from one beau to the next in an endless search for the perfect match—or not.
“Lord, if she marries him, let her be good to him,” she whispered.
“What was that?” Aunt May asked.
“Nothing. Just a little prayer.”
❧
The next day, Eunice was meeting with Cook in her study and was just about to go over the week’s menu when the butler interrupted. “I beg your pardon, but Lord Sutton is here to see you, milady.” He bowed and handed her Cecil’s calling card.
Sitting at her desk, she stared at the card and rubbed her fingertips over the letters. She wasn’t entirely surprised by the visit. Still, she wasn’t sure she was ready to see him yet.
“Tell him this is not the time we are customarily at home.”
“Once again I beg your pardon, milady, but he told me that he expected you to answer in such a fashion. He asked me to tell you that he is aware that he is imposing but to beg of you if he might have a moment of your time.”
Eunice didn’t answer right away.
“If I may be permitted to share my observations with milady?”
Her butler had proven himself an astute man. Since he had always been trusted by Uncle Eric, Eunice knew she could place her confidence in the faithful servant, as well.
“Milady, he is dressed in a fine suit—fine enough for worship—and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Truly the motions of one who is nervous. I have seen many a nervous man in my day. No one conducts himself in such a manner unless his business carries significant weight.”
“I suspect his business with me does carry some weight.” Eunice sighed. “All right. I shall see him but only briefly.”
“Shall I prepare refreshment, milady?”
“No.”
The butler raised his eyebrows in obvious surprise.
Eunice knew that failing to offer Cecil any refreshment would display an indifference contrary to all the lessons she had given him, yet she couldn’t bring herself to show him such hospitality. “I shall ring for you if I change my mind.”
“Yes, milady.” He bowed and exited.
Eunice turned her attention briefly to the cook. “If you have any leg of mutton left over from yesterday’s meal, you may prepare a stew for dinner tonight if time permits.”
Cook nodded. “Time permits, milady.”
“I am sorry that we were interrupted here this morning. I shall see to it that we meet tomorrow to discuss the rest of the week’s menu. Meet me here promptly after breakfast.”
“Yes, milady.” Cook curtsied and exited.
Rather than rushing to face Cecil, Eunice paused. She rose from her desk and walked about the study. Peering out of the window at the falling rain, she noticed a few new buds on the trees, a promise that spring would soon be arriving. A year had not yet passed. According to the date he had agreed upon with Olivia, Cecil still had plenty of time to reform before they became engaged. She wondered what Olivia would have thought if she had witnessed yesterday’s scene. Unhappily, she supposed Olivia would have not been surprised and, if anything, might have poked fun at Eunice for being naive enough to believe that Cecil could change so easily.
Perhaps Lord Giles had done Eunice a favor by exposing Cecil as the weak individual he was. Eunice had no clear leading from God that He had chosen Cecil for her. But during her prayer time, she had never felt guidance that Cecil was not the one He had chosen for her, either. Or was yesterday’s sad occurrence a confirmation that God’s answer, at least this time, was no?
Please, Father in heaven, tell me why am I so confused!
Perhaps seeing Cecil would clear her head once and for all. With a heavy heart and heavier steps, she headed toward the parlor, where she knew he awaited.
When she reached the doorway, rather than entering right away, she stopped. Cecil’s back was toward her. The butler had told her correctly: The suit he wore fit him to perfection. Apparently he had purchased it in London and had it tailored to flatter his slimmer physique. He was staring out of the window, just as she had stared out of her study window moments before. What was he thinking?
As though he sensed her presence, he turned and faced her. “Eunice. You have my utmost gratitude for agreeing to see me today.” He strode to her. With his usual fanfare, he lifted her hand so her palm faced upward and swept his warm lips across her wrist. Why did the gesture always have to send shivers of pleasure through
her body?
She tried to keep her tone even, although she wasn’t sure she succeeded. “The butler said you indicated that your business is of some importance.”
“Yes.”
She knew he was waiting for her to take a seat so he could follow suit. Whatever he had to say, he apparently planned to take more than a moment. Bringing her light shawl closer to her neck, she regretted that she hadn’t asked the butler to be sure the fire was adequate and that she had turned down his suggestion that he make tea. She took a seat on the sofa. To her surprise, Cecil was bold enough to sit directly beside her. He was so close that she could smell the pleasant bay rum scent of his shaving lotion. She tried not to let herself become distracted by his presence.
She could see by the trouble he had taken with his appearance, by the remorseful look on his face, and by the timing of his visit that he sought her absolution. She could forgive him as commanded by her Christian duty. But could she ever meet him in a crowd again and see him as just another acquaintance? No. She could not. She braced herself for the courage to deliver the bad news. But before she spoke, she owed him the courtesy of listening to his plea.
“First,” he said, “I must compliment you and your aunt on the fine progress you have made in decorating this parlor. I haven’t seen South Hampton look so fine—not even at the height of its glory.”
Though he spoke in hyperbole, Eunice appreciated his words all the same. “Thank you, but I am afraid the glory stops here. Should you tour the rest of the house, you might be disappointed. We still have much work to do. Aunt May and I have chosen our color schemes for the rest of the rooms, but we must wait for the weather to clear before we can make serious progress in repainting or putting up new wallpaper.”
He looked toward the window. “Yes, we have been experiencing our share of rain lately.”
Eunice paused. “I know you did not come here to speak of our new decorations or to talk about the weather.”
“True. And I should not impose on your time when you were gracious enough to receive me without an invitation.” He paused, then cleared his throat. “I feel I must speak with you about yesterday.”
“There is no need. Lord Giles already explained.”
“Explained what?”
Eunice was sorry that she blurted out her thoughts before considering the consequences. “You mean, you have no idea what happened yesterday?”
“I know that I behaved abominably.”
“But you have no idea why Lord Giles tempted you?”
He thought for a moment. “Giles is known to have a liking for fine tobacco and a glass of wine now and again. And since Monday is Tedric’s usual day to go into the village on errands, Giles knew that my priggish brother would not be present to object if we indulged a bit.”
“Apparently neither of you gave a thought to Abigail,” she reminded him. “Or to little Cecilia.”
“Cecilia is too young to understand much about what happens outside her little world in the nursery.”
“As it should be,” Eunice added.
“Yes. As it should be.” He cast his stare to the rug. “I wish I had considered Abigail before I imbibed. I thought one glass would not hurt, but Giles kept offering me one glass after another. I remembered how much I enjoyed such a fine wine. I–I suppose I took leave of my better judgment.”
“So it appeared.” Eunice kept her voice gentle.
“Eunice, I behaved in a most detestable fashion. I beg your forgiveness.”
“Has Abigail forgiven you?”
“Would my answer have any effect on yours?”
“No,” she admitted, “but I do hope you apologized to her. You may own Sutton Manor, but she is the lady of the house. She is the one you embarrassed with your behavior, not I.”
“Yes, I realize that. I never should have shown such disrespect for her—or for Tedric. And yes, I have begged forgiveness from both of them. They say they are willing to put the matter aside, yet I know from their frosty attitude that they are still licking their wounds.”
“Only because they care so much about you.”
“But I must ask—you seem to think Giles had some reason for tempting me. Why?”
“My opinion is of no consequence. I am more interested in helping you make amends with Abigail.”
“Thank you, but I will not be so easily distracted.” He thought for a moment. “I remember now. Giles ran after you with your cloak. He talked to you for some time. What did he say?”
“I have no reason to think he will be bringing drink and tobacco to your house again.”
“He told you that?”
“I think he realizes he hampered your progress. I think he is truly sorry about that. And he sees no reason to repeat his action.”
“No reason, eh?” Cecil’s eyes widened as if a light had been lit in his brain. “I think I know what you are talking about. He wanted to lower your opinion of me, did he not?”
Eunice hesitated. How could she answer?
“Your silence is answer enough. I see everything clearly now. He shoved me aside in church so he could sit in your pew. I should have seen that as a clear indication that he wanted to ask to court you. So, Eunice, did he succeed?”
“Succeed at what?”
“His attempt to court you. Is that what he was inquiring about when he took you your cloak? He wanted to inquire if he could approach your aunt for permission to court you?”
“Even if he did, I would never accept such a proposal from a man with an excess of wine on his breath.”
“So he did broach the subject of your courtship.”
“No. He realized. . .” Eunice paused. She wanted to finish her sentence, but she couldn’t. To tell Cecil everything that Lord Giles told her would be to reveal her feelings for Cecil. And she couldn’t do that. Not now. Not ever.
“He realized what?” Cecil asked.
“That. . .that courting me would be impossible.”
Cecil narrowed his eyes as if he were contemplating whether or not to pursue the line of discussion. Eunice sent him a stern look meant to discourage him. Thankfully, it worked.
“At this moment, my concern is not Giles,” he finally said. “My concern is you. I never meant to hurt you, Eunice. You have been so faithful a friend to me all this time. You never judged me. You have always been a true friend. A better friend than any man I can think of at the moment—certainly better than that rogue Giles. You truly have shown yourself to be a far better friend than I ever deserved.”
Friend. Friend. Friend. The word kept echoing in her mind. That was all she was to Cecil, a friend. A treasured friend, if his flowery compliments were to be believed. But only a friend, nevertheless.
“And though I do not deserve your lightest consideration, I pray you will indulge me with your forgiveness. I truly have no notion as to why I was so weak. I promise not to give in to temptation in the future. Will you please, please forgive me?”
For a moment, Eunice wondered if Cecil planned to get down on his knees. She decided she should answer before he took such drastic action. “Of course I forgive you, Cecil. But my forgiveness is not what is important. Can you forgive yourself?”
He looked puzzled. “Forgive myself? The thought never occurred to me.”
“Of course you should. Surely you know the consequences you will suffer for your setback. Now that you have given in once, perhaps resisting next time will be even more difficult. And there will be a next time for temptation. There always is.”
With a gentle motion, he took the tip of her chin into the cusp of his fingers. “How did you become so wise, my little dove?”
A harsh voice interrupted. “Eunice! What is the meaning of this?”
Ten
“Aunt May!” Eunice said as she rose from her seat. She noticed that Cecil quickly followed suit. “I did not hear you come in.”
“That fact is obvious. I thought I told you not to see this gentleman.”
“I beg your forgiveness,�
� Cecil said. “I assume all the responsibility for my presence here.”
“I see that my niece has been successful in teaching you your manners.” Aunt May sneered at Cecil. “I heard you say that you think my niece is wise.”
“Indeed.” He kept his expression kind. “Wise beyond her years.”
“Then she certainly did not gain wisdom from dillydallying with the likes of you.”
“Aunt May!” Eunice blurted. “How could you say such a thing to my guest?”
“Your guest? As I have just said, I did not give you permission to entertain Cecil, the Earl of Sutton, as your guest.” She nearly spat out the words. “And as your guardian, I am entitled to say anything I like to a man of whom I do not approve.”
“Do not approve?” Hurt was evident in Cecil’s voice. He cast his gaze to the rug. “I suppose with my reputation, I deserve your disdain.”
Aunt May gave him a hard-eyed stare. “Indeed.”
His blue eyes met her brown ones. “I beg your indulgence. I did not seek her attentions, except as a friend and tutor.”
“Friend, indeed!” She waved her fan at them in a scolding motion. “I am of the opinion that men and women cannot be friends. There is always an element of romantic intrigue. If none is present, they lose interest in one another quickly.”
“Are you saying you have no friends who are men?” Eunice asked. “And are you really so cynical, Auntie?”
“To answer your first query, no. I am acquainted with a number of gentlemen, but since I am a woman, I do not share the sort of friendship with them that I enjoy with other women. And as for my cynicism, I prefer to think of myself as wise. My wisdom is gained from living on this earth longer than either of you. Heed my words. And speaking of words,” she added, “just what were the two of you discussing when I entered?”
“Nothing,” they answered in unison.
“A simultaneous and fast denial can only mean intrigue as thick as clotted cream.”
“Oh, Auntie, you are so amusing.”
“Old ladies in their dotage usually are.” She fanned herself despite the chill in the room. Undeterred, she plopped herself in the rocker and began moving back and forth. Eunice knew by the way she settled into her seat that she would take the discussion to the bitter end. “Now humor me and tell me what is going on. As your guardian, I ask that you keep no secrets from me.”
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