by Ella Edon
“I... I’ve been out of society a while,” Eleanor murmured. “Things can slip my mind.”
How had she not known that the Earl of Brixton was an officer in the British Army? That hadn’t been mentioned in his letter at all. Surely, that would have been something any man would happily declare. But he didn’t. He was either ashamed of it or he hadn’t sent the letter. Eleanor couldn’t see an Earl being ashamed for fighting for King and country.
“I see.” Lady Brixton seemed to accept that excuse. She nodded and turned away. “Come on through. My son is on the back terrace.”
Eleanor glanced at Marion, who fell into step beside her. She wasn’t entirely sure what was going on anymore. Had Lord Brixton sent the letter? Or had his friend? If it was the friend, why hadn’t he mentioned Lord Brixton’s time in the army, or that he was still a serving officer? That would definitely be something anyone would mention.
Something was off.
Lady Brixton led them onto the terrace. Eleanor followed, and cast her eye at the man standing by the small round table on the terrace. Then she stopped short.
It was the man from outside the orphanage. Clear as day, he was standing there wearing a smart suit that looked brand new, his dark hair cut short and his jaw clean-shaven. In the daylight, he looked very handsome. Very fine to look at. And from the way he was holding himself, there didn’t seem to be any indication that he was shy or awkward.
Then Eleanor remembered what Lady Brixton had said. Her son had been in London on leave only a day, but she had encountered Lord Brixton outside the orphanage two weeks ago. Had he lied to his mother? Or was Eleanor mistaken that it was the same man? It had been dark, so it might have been a trick of the light, but Eleanor listened to her gut. This was the same man.
Wasn’t it?
“Lady Eleanor?”
Lady Brixton was looking at her strangely. So was Marion, who gave Eleanor a sharp nudge.
“Eleanor?”
“What? Oh.” Eleanor shook herself and managed a smile. “I’m fine. Really.”
The Dowager Countess’ expression said she didn’t quite believe her, but she nodded and turned to walk towards her son. Lord Brixton was now approaching them, giving Eleanor a cordial smile. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make Eleanor’s heart skipped a few beats. He really was handsome.
“Lady Eleanor.” He took her hand and bowed over it for a moment before straightening up again. “Captain Reynolds. Pleasure to meet you.”
“I…” Then Eleanor frowned. “I thought you were the Earl of Brixton.”
“He is.” Lady Brixton rolled her eyes as she approached the table. “My son prefers to use his military title instead of the title he inherited from his father.”
“It’s a bone of contention with Mother that I won’t be addressed as ‘my Lord’ all day.” Her son’s mouth twitched in another smile that made Eleanor stare at his mouth. “Captain sounds a lot better, don’t you think?”
He was right. Captain Reynolds sounded much better than Lord Brixton. It suited him. He looked every bit the soldier. Eleanor had a lot of respect for soldiers, especially with what they were currently doing against Napoleon.
If he wanted to be addressed as Captain Reynolds, Eleanor would address him as such. It was up to him, after all. And it was his title.
“Excuse me a moment.” Captain Reynolds stepped past her, heading towards the door. “I just need to have a word with Mason about lunch.”
He disappeared inside the house, Eleanor staring after him. That was not what she had been expecting. She had thought the Earl of Brixton would be someone who wasn’t confident of his looks or his personality and had a social awkwardness around him. She hadn’t been expecting...Captain Reynolds. He was as far from awkward as you could get.
This didn’t line up with what Eleanor had in her mind. Or what she had seen before.
“Eleanor, what is it?” Marion touched her shoulder. “You went off in your own world there.”
“I…”
Eleanor looked at Lady Brixton, who had brought out a fan and was using it on herself, watching the beautiful gardens in front of her. The gardener was out there with two of his workers, pruning a couple of hedges. Eleanor turned to Marion, lowering her voice to a whisper.
“Do you remember I mentioned a man who broke up a fight between some street children a couple of weeks back?”
“Yes, what…”
“Captain Reynolds was that man.”
Marion’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
“I thought I was. But Lady Brixton said he had only been in London a day, and there was no recognition at all when he looked at me.”
Reynolds had barely shown any sign that they knew each other. Either he was acting or he didn’t know her at all.
“You think he’s living a double life and doesn’t want his mother to know?” Marion asked.
“I’m not sure.” Eleanor then thought about something else that was giving her suspicions. “And then there’s the letter. Do you remember how it was signed?”
“Earl of Brixton…” Marion raised her eyebrows. “Which he doesn’t like using. You think someone’s playing both of you?”
“I don’t know. I’m certain this is the first time we’ve ever interacted.” Eleanor frowned. “But the marriage agreement seems to be genuine. I might as well see how it goes, even with my misgivings.”
“I suppose.” Marion grinned. “At least you’re marrying an honourable man. And a handsome one. That’s something.”
Eleanor didn’t respond to that. It was too early to think of either in good terms.
Eleanor was a pretty woman. Nathan had done his best not to stare when she first stepped out onto the terrace. Not too tall but not too short, slim with black hair that had a natural curl threatening to come away from her pins. She had a healthy glow to her, suggesting that she spent a lot of time outdoors.
Nathan was pleasantly surprised. Maybe having a wife wouldn’t be so bad, after all.
What had him concerned, though, was the way Eleanor had stopped short and stared at him like she had seen a ghost. It was clear she recognized him from somewhere, but Nathan had no idea from where. He would certainly remember meeting a woman like her. Then Eleanor recovered and turned into a cool, calm lady, no indication that she had reacted the way she had. Everything got put away, leaving composure and poise that Nathan had to admire. That switch was never that easy, and Eleanor had it down to a fine art.
In his mind, what solidified it more for him was the fact she called him Captain Reynolds. Right from the beginning. His mother would have tried to correct her in the beginning, but Nathan had put a stop to that. No matter what Vanity wanted, it was how he wanted to be addressed, and Eleanor respected that. He wanted to hear her call him what he wished.
God, what’s the matter with you? You’ll be wanting her to call you Nathan before the end of lunch.
Nathan pushed his thoughts aside. It was just a situation of convenience. Eleanor would understand that as well; she looked like an intelligent woman. They would work things out before the banns were published.
At least Lady Brixton had chosen well this time.
Lunch passed by pleasantly enough, the four of them taking it in the dining room. Vanity talked and talked a lot, and Nathan wondered if she was overdoing it. He had never witnessed his mother talk so much. It was almost like she was trying to impress Eleanor herself. Nathan barely got a word in. But Marion Laurie, Eleanor’s dark-haired companion, managed to parry her talk with questions of her own, essentially leaving the two of them to have an in-depth conversation while Nathan and Eleanor sat eating their food. Neither seemed prepared to break in; if anything, Eleanor seemed content to just eat and listen. Nathan was of the same mind.
They hadn’t spoken much, but Nathan was already forming an opinion. Eleanor was nervous, yes, but she was not pretentious. Nathan could tell that already. According to Vanity, Eleanor’s father was almost bankrupt, and they would
be destitute soon if Eleanor wasn’t married off, but there was no indication that Eleanor was impressed by money. Vanity had spoken about finances several times, but there wasn’t a flicker of interest in Eleanor’s eyes. If anything, it was like she winced whenever it was brought up, as if she was ashamed.
While Marion and Vanity were still engrossed in conversation, Eleanor mumbled something and excused herself. She was looking a little red in the face and Nathan could see sweat on her brow. The dining room was incredibly warm, and Nathan had been sweating a little under his collar. No wonder Eleanor looked like she was about to faint.
He counted to twenty and then rose, excusing himself from his mother. Vanity barely noticed him; it appeared that she was enjoying her conversation with Eleanor’s companion, who was just as spritely. Nathan had to smile as he left the room. His mother had found a friend of her own.
Nathan found Eleanor on the back terrace, sitting at the table they had used earlier for tea. She was fanning herself with her hand, slumped back in her chair with her head back, tilting into the breeze. Not the most ladylike of positions, but Nathan couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Eleanor was not like any other woman he had encountered. Perhaps having her as a wife would be better than he anticipated.
“Lady Eleanor?”
Eleanor opened her eyes, still looking a little dazed. Then her gaze focused on him and her eyes widened. She jumped to her feet, knocking her chair over.
“Captain Reynolds.” She bobbed a quick curtsy, her face going even redder. “Forgive me, it was getting a little warm in there.”
“I understand.” Nathan picked up her chair and gestured for her to sit. “This house is like a suntrap during spring. It’s going to be worse during the summer.”
“I can imagine.” Eleanor said dryly.
She sat, and Nathan heard a sharp intake of breath from her when his hands, still holding onto the chair, brushed against her back. It had Nathan pausing for a moment. Warmth tickled his fingers, and he had an urge to touch her again.
Naughty. Enough. She came here to be introduced, not to be mauled.
Squaring his shoulders, Nathan moved to a chair on the other side of the table and sat. Eleanor drew her shoulders back and took a deep breath, putting her hands in her lap. She was looking more composed now, more ladylike. Nathan found himself wanting the unladylike woman again. That side was far more interesting.
“That was a lovely lunch,” Eleanor said, and Nathan saw her flinch a little. “You should thank the cook for me.”
“I will.”
They stared at each other. Nathan had been planning on small talk, to get to know the woman across from him more, but there was something more pressing on his mind.
“You know, when you first walked out onto the terrace, I could have sworn you looked at me like you knew me.”
Eleanor blinked and stared at him. She licked her lips, and Nathan found himself looking at her mouth. He looked away and focused on her eyes. Hazel eyes with slight flecks of green. Lovely eyes.
Stop!
“Maybe it was my mind playing tricks, Captain.” Eleanor cleared her throat. “I bumped into someone who looked a lot like you not too long ago. He seemed a kind, courteous man. But, of course, it couldn’t have been you. You were in France.” She managed a slight smile and shrugged. “And it was dark, so I could have been mistaken.”
Another one who thought he was someone else? Now Nathan really wanted to know what was going on. It was like everyone was going mad.
“If it were just you who’s said that to me today, I would have agreed.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“My servants have been acting very oddly since I returned from France. Every time I come into a room, they look at me with such fear for a split second before they realize that it’s me. Then there’s a lot of embarrassing mumbles and everyone runs away. Even my valet Knoth does it and he won’t talk to me about why.” Nathan rubbed the back of his neck. “If I was a different kind of man, I could develop a complex and think they feared me. But I’ve never raised my hand to them, and I’ve barely raised my voice. Not that I’ve been around to raise my voice.”
“Because you’ve been busy with the war,” Eleanor murmured. She frowned. “That is unusual, I’ll agree. Maybe they had word about something regarding you and it’s scaring them.”
“You think so?”
“It’s possible. Misinformation and rumours can colour a person’s judgement. Even when the truth is placed in front of them, they can still be suspicious.”
Nathan stared at her. Any other woman would have laughed it off, saying it was nothing and telling him to not be so suspicious himself. Nothing to cause drama where it wouldn’t benefit them. Eleanor hadn’t done that. That raised his level of respect for her.
Chapter Thirteen
“It’s possible, but I’m not sure still. I’ll get answers out of them soon.”
“Are your household staff good people?”
“Good? I would certainly recommend them to anyone. Hard workers and loyal. Barely a complaint from them.” Nathan paused. “They will be able to look after you once we’re married.”
“That’s a rel... I beg your pardon?” Eleanor frowned. “They’ll look after me? I thought it was the duty of the husband to look after their wife.”
“I’m sure you know this is merely an arrangement. Marriage on paper only. I’ll stay around long enough to obtain an heir, and then I’ll go back to France where I’m needed.”
Nathan bit back a grimace. That had come out far colder than he anticipated. It was the truth, but it didn’t make it any better. Eleanor was staring at him like he had just hit her over the head.
“I see.” Her voice was clip. “Your war with the French is more important than being with your new wife.”
“You didn’t think this was a marriage of love, did you?”
“I know what it is, but it doesn’t make your comment any better.” Eleanor sat forward. Her expression was steely, her eyes hardening as she glowered at him. “Do you think I don’t need to be shown how things are as a Countess? If we’re going to be able to back each other up, at the very least. Be a partnership. I don’t want to be treated like a stranger in my house by my own husband.”
Whoa. Nathan had not been expecting that. Then again, maybe he should have expected it. Eleanor was not like other women. And, he had to admit, he liked this fiery side of her. It was fascinating to see.
“I’m not that callous, Lady Eleanor.”
“From the way you spoke just now, you were hardly anything else.”
She was right. Nathan hadn’t been thinking. Not clearly, anyway. His mind jumbled a little once he stepped outside. When he had accidentally touched Eleanor. Now his mind was getting foggy. This was not him at all. Nathan swallowed and shifted in his chair.
“Forgive me, my lady. That’s not who I am.”
“I’m sure it isn’t.” Eleanor’s hardened expression softened just a little. “I’m in the same boat as you. You were foisted into this marriage as much as I am. Your mother wants you married with an heir, and my father lost me in a card game.”
“He what?” Nathan sat up. “To whom?”
“He wouldn’t say. I doubt the man used his own name.” Eleanor wrinkled her nose and looked away. “But apparently it was someone with enough strings round him to pull this match.”
If Nathan hadn’t known any better, he would have thought Simon did this. But Simon had looked equally shocked when Nathan had told him the news. He wasn’t even that good at cards, so getting to a point where he could wager another man’s daughter for marriage didn’t sound plausible. What on earth was going on?
With everything happening lately Nathan wasn’t even sure anymore.
“Sounds like we’re bound to more than just simple marriage,” he said quietly.
“I won’t argue with that.” Eleanor looked back at him. “I know I can’t expect a loving marriage, which is what I want, but I
would like to be friends with my husband. We may have been thrust together, but that doesn’t mean we have to hate each other.”
Nathan smiled. She was a practical woman. Used that head on her shoulders. He could work with that.
“That I can do.” He rested his elbows on the table. “I try to respect women, Lady Eleanor. And I will do that with you.”
The smile he got in return had Nathan’s heart missing a few beats. He had a feeling keeping this on a strictly friendship basis was going to be easier said than done.
“Thank you, Captain.” Eleanor gave him a nod. “That does mean a lot to me.”