by Fanny Finch
“My late wife’s family of course,” he added as he remembered, “know of the true reason. However, they left London shortly after laying their daughter to rest. They too, have taken the secret with them. It was an unspoken agreement to keep it within us. It is best it remains that way.”
She heaved a deep sigh, and he knew so many thoughts were racing in her mind. He waited, stilling himself for any more questions she may think to ask.
But none came. After a long moment of silence, she simply said, “I do believe we owe them no explanations. Why do they feel the need to be informed of every blessed or cursed happenings in our lives?”
Her answer impressed him.
“Sometimes,” she went on, “I wish I could shout it out for everyone to hear that the rumors are a lie, and I am incapable of doing all that I have been accused of…”
She paused to look away wistfully.
“It would be a lie if I said the reason why I have not done that, is because I owe no one explanations. I wish I could say I have not gone to that length because I need not defend myself in the presence of a crowd of hypocrites.”
She returned her gaze to him. “Alas, it would be an unfortunate thing to lie so unashamedly.”
The deep sorrow he saw in those amber depths shook his core. He suddenly felt a powerful urge to wrap his arm around her and console her.
Knowledge of how inappropriate that would be, helped him keep his hand to himself.
He had already called her by her Christian name once before. No, it had not slipped. He had simply wanted to know how that lovely name would sound in his mouth.
He could only be grateful, that she had not caught note of it.
Either that, or she had chosen to blissfully ignore it. He would never know, and he would rather not push his luck.
“The only reason why I have not tried to dispute those vicious lies, is because I am a coward,” she was saying.
“I fear that no one would believe me, anyway. And all that would simply be seen as a desperate attempt on my part, to vindicate myself.”
She ended with a small, sad smile. And it broke his heart, more than the sorrow in her eyes had.
“Perhaps, you should take your own advice, my lady,” he said, his voice teasing.
“My own advice?”
“Yes. Why must we worry what they think of us? After all, they are hypocrites who are no better off. What matters is that the people we love, see us for who we truly are.
“That they believe us, and are aware of our capabilities and our limits. Anyone else… oh well, I am afraid I am too much of a gentleman to swear in the presence of a lady.”
The tightness in his chest loosened as she broke into soft laughter. He relished the sound as it rang in the night air, the wind stealing it for itself.
“I have made you laugh, my lady. That is one great thing I have done tonight. Now, I can go to sleep with a smile on my face, and peace in my heart. For some reason, seeing you so sad…”
He lifted his hand to touch her face but caught himself before it was too late. His hand hung, mere inches from her face and she closed her eyes fleetingly, before they fluttered open again.
He cleared his throat as the moment became awkward, and retrieved his hand.
What was wrong with him? He had not even thought it through. It had been completely a reflex action, as though his hand had decided to act on its own.
“What I meant to say is, seeing you sad makes me sad. I am happy when you are. So, as long as it lies in my power, I shall do my best to put a smile on your face, and hope it reaches your heart and eyes, my lady.”
“You leave me at a loss for words.”
“I do hope that is a good thing…”
Once more, she smiled. “Yes, it is. Thank you, Charles. I do not feel so sad or bothered anymore. You have been of great comfort.”
He had heard his name slip through her lips. If honey had a voice, it would sound like it.
He knew that had been deliberate, and he now knew she had heard him call her by her name earlier.
He smiled guiltily. “I was hoping we could drop the formalities, now that we have grown closer. However, if it is not what you want…”
She cut him off softly, “I have no objections.”
This time, he was the one who smiled. “It feels wonderful to hear that.” He paused as he turned around to take in the surroundings.
“I worry if we tarry here a moment longer, your brother might miss you, and grow wary with worry.”
“Yes, I think the same. We may return now, as I do feel better. The fresh air did help, but not as much as your presence did.”
His heart thudded in his chest. “You leave me at a loss for words, my lady.”
“I do hope that is a good thing.”
“It is.”
Smiling, they stood to return to the ball room.
Chapter 19
As they stepped into the ball room, Eleanor felt lighter.
She had been sincere when she told Charles he had helped better than the fresh air had. Having someone to talk to in that moment when it seemed as though the weight of the world was crushing her, was what had accomplished the feat.
She stole a glance up at the man who stood protectively by her side.
Perhaps, she had simply become too dependent on people. She had always had her brother before Benjamin had come into her life. Edwin had so easily stepped into place after Benjamin’s death.
A part of her had begun to grow wary as his marriage to Frances grew imminent by the day. Frances would leave Grenshire for Humshire and although it was no more than a day’s ride apart, Eleanor would still be left alone and lonely.
She had even begun to consider getting another companion, but she knew no one would ever compare to Frances.
Perhaps, she was simply leaning so much into Rachel and Charles in a bid to fill the void that Edwin and Frances’ absence was bound to eventually cause.
Mayhap, not. All she knew was that in this moment, she was glad to have this man by her side. This man who she had now grown curious about.
He was handsome, so handsome. And he was kind. How was she supposed to resist his charm?
Willing herself to look away from him before he caught her staring, she tore her gaze away.
Only, as she faced forward, the sight that met her had her stopping cold in her track.
She suddenly could not breathe. Her legs grew weak and she held on to Charles for support. He must have realized the urgency of the situation, for his hand immediately went around her waist.
Her body tingled from his warmth, and the sensation chased away the fear and pain that had threatened to paralyze her.
As those faded away, annoyance took their place.
It had been so many years. Six years.
Yet, every time she met them, she could not stop herself from having this reaction towards them.
Why? Why did they affect her so? And in such a terrible manner? This was what she had feared, the reason she had stayed away. Alas, now, there was no place she could run to or hide.
“Eleanor! I thought that was you.”
She felt her annoyance swell as she watched the woman who was the source of too many of her heart aches, look from her to Charles and his proximity.
“Hello, Sarah,” Eleanor forced out.
The woman in question turned to look at the man beside her, her face horrified.
“James, she still calls me by my name. The petulant child, she still has no respect or fondness for me, despite all that we have done for her.”
The man finally spoke and Eleanor readied herself before she turned to look at him.
Still, she could never prepare herself enough for the torrent of emotions that often overwhelmed her where this man was concerned. Hurt, heartbreak, despise, anger - she felt it all for him.
“Eleanor,” he finally spoke.
She forced every emotion away from her voice as she spoke. “Hello, Father.”
There was a long pause as father and daughter looked at each other, no love lost, too many words unsaid.
“You look well,” he said after a while.
She nodded. “So do you.”
She had feared for his life when he had suffered a stroke the year before. Like a good child, she had forgotten all of his transgressions and had rushed to his side to play nurse.
She had received no gratitude for it. He had simply tried to be less antagonistic towards her.
She had been more than happy to pack her things and return to Grenshire when the physician had declared he was out of the woods.
He was still pale and lean when she had left. Now, he looked like himself again. Tall, proud, a perfect example of a pathetic excuse for a father.
“I heard you were in town. I’m… glad to know that you have decided to rejoin society.”
“I am sure you are… Well then, it was almost nice seeing you once again, Father.”
She looked at the woman who had almost ruined her life, who had turned her father against his own children.
“And you too, Sarah.”
She saw the both of them grimace, and she felt no guilt at the pleasure that gave her.
“Eleanor, it’s been six years. The least you could do is call her step-mother.”
“The law may require it, Father. However, I would never see this woman in any light that has to do with motherhood.
“I may have only been a young girl of twelve summers when I watched my mother die. That does not mean I do not have memories of what a mother is and what she does.”
Sarah rolled her eyes and released an exasperated sigh. “She is still the petulant, overly dramatic impetuous girl she has always been. We should have gone harder on her, James. I told you this. Look how she speaks to you now.”
Sarah looked from her father to her, then. “The fact that you are a countess and your father is a viscount, does not permit you to disrespect him. You may hold a higher title, but a child always owes a parent respect for their authority.”
“Pardon my… petulance, but I have come to the ball to dance, Sarah. I have not come to be taught lessons by you. Once again, we must take our leave.”
As she took a step forward, Sarah stopped her.
“The least you can do is introduce us to your escort, isn’t that so? If he is to be the next unfortunate husband, he must meet his in-laws to be, do you not reckon?”
Eleanor sent a prayer up above to the Lord. To keep her strong, and to keep her calm, especially as she found herself caught between tears and anger.
She stepped back, and stared right into Sarah’s eyes. She held her gaze, refusing to be daunted. Not anymore, no more.
“What was that? Unfortunate husband? And what is that supposed to imply?”
Sarah exchanged furtive glances with her father. “Oh well, after that dreadful incident with the late earl and all of those horrible tales that came after, I simply assumed no one would be interested in getting closer to you.
“I mean, your own mother died in your arms, the first man you chose to fall in love with, chose your step-sister - of course, we both know that is putting it lightly…”
Eleanor saw her father tap Sarah, but she shrugged his hand away. She looked at her father then, and his eyes held a hint of remorse.
It was pitiful. She wondered what their relationship was.
Yet, he would get no pity from her. He had chosen her. And barely seven months after her mother’s body had gone cold, nonetheless.
He had brought this terrible woman into their lives, and he had ruined their family. This was all his fault, no one else’s.
“And the late earl, oh, he was a…”
“I would have to stop you there, dear stepmother.” She spat the last part out with all the vile she felt in her. She was not such a person but this woman awoke ugly emotions in her.
“You may say whatever you wish to say, as long as you do not think to delude yourself into believing you are worthy in some way, to speak of my mother and my late husband.”
Eleanor’s temper was rising.
“I forbid you. I will not have it, ever. My mother was too remarkable a woman. More than you could ever hope to be. And my late husband? Even whilst he was alive, you could never stand in his presence.”
Her voice was just low enough to not draw attention, but the emotions rang true in it nonetheless.
“What has made you believe you can speak his name, even dare to refer to him in your speech, now that he is gone?”
The disgust was plainly written on Eleanor’s face. “I know you have regard for no one, stepmother, but even you should have a bit of respect for the dead.”
Sarah looked truly taken aback. Her jaw fell open and her eyes widened.
“James, shall you stand here and watch her speak to me in such manner?”
“Perhaps, we should take our leave now, Sarah. If I had known this was what you wanted to do, I would not have agreed to your request to walk up to them. Now, no more, lest we cause a scene.”
She was stupefied, truly stupefied. Eleanor felt a small victory at this.
This time, she was the one who stopped them as they turned to leave.
“Oh, and since you are so curious, this is His Grace, the Duke of Finchester, Charles Duncan. Charles, my father, his lordship, Viscount of Manhampton, James Wimbledon. His wife, Sarah Wimbledon.”
Her father held out his hand, and she held her breath as Charles accepted the shake. It was the shortest shake Eleanor had ever witnessed. He acknowledged Sarah with a curt nod.
“A duke, you said? I see that you keep aiming higher. You have grown weary of being countess, and now, you want to control an entire dukedom. You never cease to amaze me, Eleanor.”
Eleanor did not get the chance to respond. Charles did the honors. He cleared his throat and spoke.
“I do not know what you have heard to put such notions in your head, Madam, but Lady Grenshire is simply a dear friend of mine. Indeed, I am a free man, and whether or not I shall choose to marry her, remains no concern of yours.”
He shook his head. “I have heard of people trying to bring others down. But to see one’s family do that to someone who they are meant to love and cherish and protect, I must admit, I have never been more disappointed in my lifetime.
“It is nothing short of despicable and disgraceful. Her own brother protects and shields her like a porcelain cup…” he looked from Sarah to her father.
“I had hoped a father would do more for his daughter, even from foes disguised in friend’s clothing. I know mine did, bless his soul.
“However, I am grateful to know that the countess has remained kind at heart, and strong in spirit, despite all of these. Perhaps, you are the ones who would do better, with lessons from her.
“Good day, my lord and lady. I wish I could say it was almost nice, running into you.”
Giving them no chance for a response, Charles nudged her forward and they walked away.
Eleanor held her heart in her hands as she replayed what had just happened, over and over again.
Charles’ words rang in her head a hundred times, and each time, her admiration, gratitude and respect for this man grew.
Something else did too, but this was not the time to give it too deep a thought.
Goodness, she had thought after hearing her stepmother’s words, it would be over. He would keep his distance and forget he had ever met her.
He had done the complete opposite. Like a knight in shining armor, he had risen to the occasion.
She heaved a sigh of relief as they reached his table to find it empty of his mother. She could not deal with the Dowager Duchess right now. She needed time to sort through all that she was feeling.
In all honesty, she was still shaken up from the meeting. And Sarah’s words had gotten to her. And Charles…
He seemed to understand her unspoken need to be left to her thoughts, so he gifted her with priceless silence.
She re
mained seated, staring into the crowd but seeing nothing really. After a while, she felt strong enough to speak, and strong enough to head home where she suddenly really wanted to be.
“Charles, thank you.”
“You don’t have to do that. It was simply the sensible thing to do. I could not stand there and watch that woman speak to you in such an awful manner.