Chapter Seven
Eleanor’s face ached with the effort it took not to scowl. While she’d been strolling slowly to stretch the time with Sorin, Yarborough had gone straight to Charles! No doubt the blackguard was hoping his presence during the journey to London would endear him to her family and give him an edge over other suitors.
Mingled with vexation was a burning desire to know what Sorin had been about to say before they’d been interrupted. His strange hesitation and awkwardness had vanished the instant Rowena had appeared. It was all very curious.
“Might I prevail upon you for a moment, Rowena?” she heard Sorin ask, jerking her attention back to the present.
“Of course,” answered Rowena.
“I will be going to Rundell & Bridge’s in a fortnight or so to commission a special birthday gift for my mother. I would very much like to take Ellie—and you, if your schedules permit—along to assist with making a selection. I know you ladies have likely made your plans far in advance and I don’t wish to interfere. It would require only an hour or two of your time.”
“I’m sure we can find the time,” said Rowena. “Come, Eleanor. We’ll be late for luncheon if we don’t leave now, and we needs must disentangle Charles.” She dipped a curtsy, which he returned with a short bow. “Don’t forget to come to Holbrook for dinner tomorrow. I’m having Cook prepare your favorite.”
“I look forward to it,” he replied, a smile in his hazel eyes. “Until then, I bid you both good day.”
“That was a bit…irregular,” murmured Rowena as he disappeared into the crowd.
“Oh? How so?”
There was a long pause, during which two pink spots appeared on Rowena’s cheeks. “Eleanor, I don’t know how to say this delicately.”
Puzzled, she frowned. “You need never mince words with me.”
“Very well, I shall speak plainly. We are going to London soon. While there, you must not allow yourself to be as familiar with Lord Wincanton as you’ve been here—at least not in public—lest others make certain…assumptions about your relationship that are untrue. We know him as a sort of extended family member, but others don’t.”
Eleanor’s scalp prickled with shock. “If I’ve behaved inappropriately, then I can only apologize and ask you to tell me in what way I have erred.”
“You have not,” assured Rowena. “I just wish you to be mindful of appearances, that is all. I don’t want the two of you becoming the subject of malicious gossip. He has suffered enough for one lifetime.”
Her words felt like a slap. Had Sorin indeed told her cousin of her gross impropriety all those years ago? “I would never do anything to cause him discomfort. If you object to my accompanying him to see the jeweler, then—”
“I have no objection whatsoever,” interrupted Rowena. “All I wish is that you keep in mind how things might appear to those outside our intimate little circle. London, as you know, is an entirely different world than the one to which we are accustomed out here in the countryside. I fear we’ll have enough to worry about this Season without any disparaging whispers concerning you.” Her gaze flew to Charles and company, which Eleanor noticed now included Caroline.
“That’s another thing I’ve been meaning to discuss with you,” said Rowena, her tone taking on an edge. “I know Caroline is your friend, but I hope we do not come to regret allowing her to accompany us.”
“I hope not, too,” Eleanor muttered without thinking. She shrank under Rowena’s sudden, sharp gaze. “Do not mistake me—I adore her, but I’m well aware of her impulsive nature.”
“Then I shall prevail upon you to at all times adjure her to curb her impetuosity. As she is to be under our sponsorship, her behavior will reflect directly upon us. I should greatly dislike having to inform her family of any unfortunate circumstances resulting from misconduct on her part while she is in our care.”
“Of course,” Eleanor replied soothingly. “But I beg you not to think too harshly of her. She is simply…gregarious. I’m certain she comprehends the level of decorum expected of her.”
“I pray so, too, for all our sakes. But come, we must leave now or the meal will be overcooked.”
Yarborough and his mother were still attempting to ingratiate themselves with Charles when they joined the party, and Eleanor couldn’t help but notice the sly wink her old nemesis gave her as he bowed. She marked also that Lady Yarborough’s curtsy to Rowena was little more than cursory, though Rowena was a duchess and she the mere widow of a baronet. Their familiarity was presumptuous and more than a little insulting. Then again, perhaps she was being overly sensitive in the aftermath of Rowena’s little chat with her. Still, she liked it not. It smacked of arrogant assumptions concerning their relationship with her family.
“Husband, I do hate to intrude, but we must away home,” said Rowena, taking Charles’s arm.
“Yes, of course,” he replied, absently patting her hand. “Sir Yarborough and I were just discussing the state of the towns between here and London. According to him, there has been a good deal of improvement in the town of Hindon since we last passed through it. There is a new inn there, now, the Ellington Arms. I was thinking we might stop there to overnight rather than going on to Chilmark. It would shorten that leg of the journey a bit and allow the horses a longer rest.”
“Whatever you desire, my dear,” said Rowena mildly. “But come, already the day grows long and there is much yet to accomplish before it is done.” She cast him a beguiling smile, and his eyes brightened.
Eleanor hid a smile of her own as her cousin bid the Yarboroughs a hasty farewell. If ever she were to attempt to ensnare a man, Rowena’s example was surely the one to follow. Her methods were subtle and elegant. Unlike Caroline, who was even now casting coy glances back over her shoulder at Yarborough as if she’d never talked of bagging Sorin an hour before.
To be fair, she’d known her friend would be far too shrewd to put all of her eggs in one basket. Thanks to a terribly botched courtship during her debut, Caroline had come up short of beaux these last two years. This being her third—and likely final—Season out, Eleanor had no doubt she’d get down to business and ensnare several serious suitors before all was said and done. Her chances were improved by the fact that only four “prize purses”—three, Eleanor corrected, removing herself from the equation—would be out this year. Those who hadn’t been lucky enough to catch an heiress last Season would perhaps be more amenable to the idea of marrying a young lady of more modest means.
“I think Sir Yarborough is quite a nice gentleman,” reflected Caroline, confirming Eleanor’s suspicions as she settled into her seat. “I found his mother most agreeable. She extended an invitation for me to join her for tea while in London. Her son is of an enjoyable temperament as well. Nothing at all like the mean little boy you described to me this morning.”
“I should hope not,” Eleanor snapped, forgetting her intent to remain impassive. “I would rather hope the years have matured him beyond feeling a need to push people down in the mud.”
Charles frowned. “I had no idea he’d done such a thing, Eleanor. Had I known, I can assure you I would have been less willing to have them join our party. No man should ever raise his hand to a lady.”
“Indeed,” agreed Rowena. “Such an act, though committed in his youth, shows a serious lack of breeding. You should both be very cautious in your dealings with him.”
“We were only children,” Eleanor sighed, though she was loath to take Yarborough’s side.
“Did you perhaps…provoke him in any way?” asked Caroline, her tone hopeful.
“No,” she answered flatly, her temper growing shorter by the second. “He was a bit of a bully to everyone, if you want to know. He enjoyed antagonizing people, in general. I was but one of many. Surely he is a different person now.”
“Boys are betimes unruly and forgetful of their manners,” said Charles with a noncommittal shrug. “Perhaps he has changed, at that.”
Rowena’s lips pursed. “I’m not so certain. The stripes don’t wash off a tiger when it takes a bath, and neither do they fade with age. Regardless, it is too late now to alter our plans. The Yarboroughs will be joining us on the road to London, and we shall likely be obliged to entertain them once or twice while there, being that they are acquaintances from the same county.”
Wonderful. Eleanor kept a neutral face, but inside she was already thinking of ways to get out of it. Being “indisposed” would work only once. As for the overly-eager Caroline, she would indeed do well to have a care with the Yarboroughs. Very likely, Lady Yarborough’s invitation to tea was merely a means of gathering information on how best to cast the net for the bigger fish.
She shook herself. Enough of this bitterness and old bile! There were more important things to think about, like tomorrow and Sorin’s visit.
Almost as if she’d read her mind, Rowena spoke his name. “Oh, Lord Wincanton will indeed be joining us for dinner tomorrow, Charles. He sends his regrets for not having been to see you again sooner. He has been much occupied with matters at home.”
Charles’s brooding expression lifted into a smile of delight. “Ah! Excellent, excellent! I cannot begin to tell you how glad I am that he’s returned to us. Like a brother to me, really. Better than a brother, actually—a brother would be hankering after m’title,” he added with a chuckle.
Beside her, Eleanor heard Caroline snicker softly. The gleeful, calculating look on her friend’s face told her there would be trouble from that quarter tomorrow.
After a slightly overcooked luncheon, she went to her room to have a look through her wardrobe. The new gowns Rowena had ordered for her were all being sent directly to their London residence, but there were a few from last year that Sorin hadn’t yet seen. Her fingers lingered over the deep-aqua silk. It would do nicely—the cut emphasized her maturity. Holding it up against herself, she stood before the mirror.
I’ll look anything but childish in this. And since silk is so difficult to get these days, I’ll stand out. The thought brought her up short, and she frowned at her reflection. Stand out for whom?
The answer was plain, but the reason behind it was all muddled and confused. She wanted her old friend to acknowledge her as an adult, of course, to see her as an equal. But her mind would not let it rest there. Is that the only reason? Why should his opinion matter to me so much?
Eleanor’s middle tightened for a moment before logic asserted itself. Because if he sees me as an adult, so will my cousin. Maybe then Charles will stop all this nonsense about marrying me off.
The tension in her midsection eased. Laughing at herself, she hung the gown back in the wardrobe and dismissed her foolish worries.
Dismounting almost before his horse had come to a full stop, Sorin handed the reins over to a lad and climbed the familiar steps of Holbrook. The anticipation of seeing Eleanor again had been almost more than he could stand. Upon entering, he handed his hat and coat to the waiting servant.
“You’re early.”
Looking up, he saw Caroline coming down the stairs. “My apologies,” he said with a short bow.
“Oh, there is no need to apologize,” she said with a sultry smile. “You are practically one of the family here.”
“I’m a very fortunate man when it comes to my friends.”
Turning to the servant, the girl dismissed him. “I’ll see to our guest. You can go.”
“I presume everyone else is already in the drawing room?” Sorin asked as the man disappeared.
Caroline shook her head so that her curls bounced, and then proceeded to narrow the gap between them. “Eleanor is still upstairs making ready. I don’t know the whereabouts of Lord and Lady Ashford.” She drifted a bit closer, far more so than was proper. “But I would be happy to accompany you to the drawing room to await them.”
The look in her eyes was positively predatory. He resisted an urge to back away. “Ah. Perhaps I’d better wait h—”
“Lord Wincanton,” said a blessedly familiar voice from above. “How good of you to join us this evening.”
For a moment Sorin nearly forgot how to breathe. A vision in swirls of starlight and sea foam, Eleanor glided down the stairs like a goddess descending from the clouds. Her caramel hair was swept up in a crown of curls with wisps about her temples and forehead, and her creamy skin glowed in the candlelight. The curve of her cheek lifted in a soft, welcoming smile as she gazed down at him.
The thought of coming home to such a sight every day was almost enough to make him drop knee on the spot. Instead he bowed deeply. “Lady Eleanor, a pleasure as always.”
Her returning curtsy was elegant perfection. “The pleasure is ours.” As she moved to take his arm, her friend had no choice but to defer and step aside, which she did with ill-concealed rancor.
The girl was instantly forgotten as Eleanor drew near. The gown she wore—or rather what it revealed—turned his mouth into a veritable desert. Its wide neckline revealed an expanse of décolletage to tempt the most hardened misogynist, which he was most definitely not. The shallow bodice was gathered tightly beneath her breasts by a band of silver mesh from which fell layers of diaphanous aqua silk embroidered with silver flowers and tiny pearls. Each step she took revealed a tempting suggestion of shapely legs and hips.
God help me… Hers was the lush form of a woman built for carnal pleasures, a fact that had heretofore been for the most part concealed by lace fichus and high necklines. “I’m afraid I’ve arrived a bit early,” he said, praying no one noticed the sudden, urgent stirring in his breeches. “Please accept my apologies for any inconvenience.”
“I should never be so unwelcoming as to chastise you for gracing us with your presence a few minutes ahead of schedule. Come. Charles and Rowena will join us in a moment or two. Caroline?” she inquired over her shoulder as they turned away.
“I’m coming,” muttered her sulky friend.
Sorin hid a smile. He really couldn’t say he felt sorry for the girl. Eleanor’s warning about her mercenary designs was certainly no lie, and he sincerely hoped her attentions would be directed elsewhere once they were in London. The fewer distractions he had to deal with, the better.
“I hope you brought your appetite with you,” said Eleanor with a mischievous glance that made his mouth go dry again. “Cook has been busy since before dawn preparing a feast worthy of the king himself, and I’ve been told there is to be entertainment afterward.”
“I’ll be spoiled by such lavish treatment,” he said, laughing. “But in truth, I need no entertainment save that of conversation with good friends.” He silently cursed himself for using the “f” word. The last thing he wanted was her thinking of him as a friend, damn it all! But it was too late now.
“You are too kind,” she replied. “Somerset must seem interminably dull compared to the sights you’ve seen in your travels.”
“On the contrary. I take great interest in the goings-on here. I always have.” He smiled at her dubious look. “I never wanted to leave, you know. By the time I returned to England’s shores, my longing for home was a sickness. I was never so happy as when I rounded the turn to see Holly Hall awaiting me with her green lawns and solid walls. For me, the beauty of home far outstrips that of any other place on earth.”
“Well, you are here now and you are most welcome indeed,” said Eleanor, her voice suspiciously thick.
“I suppose absence does make the heart grow fond,” said Caroline from behind, her voice tinged with sarcasm.
The tender moment was gone. “Indeed it does, Miss Caroline,” he tossed back, trying not to sound irritated.
“Such sentiments will likely fade after you’ve been home awhile,” the girl continued with an exaggerated sigh. “I’ve heard it said that anyone who has been away for more than a year can never get the wanderlust out of their blood.”
“I’m afraid I must disagree,” Sorin replied. “The call of home is stronger than any wanderlust. I’ve traveled the world, and never once did its pull on my heart diminish.” That much was true, though it was more than Holly Hall he’d yearned to see.
As if answering his private thoughts, Eleanor murmured, “Travel abroad is all good and well, but I should never wish to be forever parted from all that is familiar. My heart of hearts longs to remain here, among those dearest to me.”
His heart leaped as her wistful gaze settled on him.
But Caroline wasn’t done yet. “I long to remain, too,” she added lightly. “However, with a male cousin who is to inherit everything and two younger sisters to help bring out before he does so, I’ve no choice but to leave.”
Beside him, Eleanor stopped in her tracks and turned, aghast. “Oh, Caroline, I’m so sorry. I sometimes forget that—”
“Please don’t,” interrupted Caroline, her expression stoic. “It is simply the way of things for those of us without the means to do as we please.” Her mournful eyes turned to Sorin. “But my humble upbringing has prepared me for the inevitable.”
He would have laughed at her artifice if he’d known it wouldn’t anger Eleanor, who in her undeserved chagrin no doubt felt a complete louse. The thought of her suffering any distress over such an obvious attempt to garner sympathy peeved him. “A humble upbringing is no cause for shame,” he said, much to Caroline’s delight. “Indeed, I believe it will be a great asset to you, Miss Caroline. Your future husband will no doubt appreciate your sense of economy when it comes to the judicious employment of his income.”
His inference must have hit the mark dead on, for her mouth dropped open just as he turned back to Eleanor. He pretended he hadn’t noticed. “I do hope your cook saw fit to make some of those strawberry tartlets I so love,” he said quietly. “I confess that I missed them almost as much as I did home.”
“Oh, I—I believe she did,” said Eleanor, half turning to look behind her, obviously still concerned for her friend.
“One day, I shall find a way to woo that talented woman over to Holly Hall,” he said, calling her attention back again.
“Ah, but then you would have one less reason to come and visit us,” she said, the smile returning to her eyes.
“I need no such impetus. The pleasure of your company is quite enough to bring me here.” It was bold and flirtatious, and he marked how her cheeks pinked at the compliment.
Before she could answer, they rounded the corner and entered the drawing room where Charles was waiting, a glass of brandy in hand. “Ah, here you are! I hope you’re prepared for an evening of culinary delights. The table is fairly groaning from supporting such a feast, and I’ve broken out the best of my brandy to wash it down.”
Rowena swept in. “Yes, and I see you’ve decided to precede the meal with it as well. Good evening, everyone. I do hope you will pardon the delay. Our other guest has not yet arrived.”
“Late in the coming, as usual,” chuckled Charles, avoiding his wife’s gaze as he drained the last of the brandy from his glass. “Marston always did like to make an entrance.”
“Is Marston to join us, then?” Sorin asked, grinning. A retired Master and Commander in the Royal Navy, James Marston was a good friend. The gentleman had been in command of the first ship to take him from England, and they’d become fast friends on the journey. Upon leaving the service after the war, he had come to live in Somerset because Sorin had described it as a paradise—and it was within a day’s journey of the sea. “I did not see him here last week and assumed he’d gone off to London early.”
Rowena shook her head. “He was unfortunate enough to be laid up with a cold and missed the festivities.”
“But I’m here now and ready to make amends,” said a man’s voice from the doorway.
Sorin turned with gladness. “Well met again, Marston! It seems an age since we last saw each other.”
“Well, I consider myself fortunate to be here. Damnable cold brought me low for a bit, but I’m back in Bristol fashion.” The blond, mustached man was indeed gaunt, but seemed in good spirits. He bowed to the ladies. “Lady Ashford. Lady Eleanor. Miss Caroline.”
Observing Eleanor, Sorin was pleased to note nothing extraordinary in her greeting. Caroline’s reaction, however, was most surprising—she behaved with indifference bordering on outright rudeness.
Rowena gestured for them to follow. “Now that our party is happily complete, let us dine.”
Sorin started as Caroline all but leaped to his side, where she remained like a tenacious burr all the way to the dining room. Thus it was that when it came time to be seated, Sorin found himself across from Eleanor rather than by her side as he’d desired. Sandwiched between Rowena and Caroline for the duration of the meal, he was given little opportunity to do more than glance at her every now and then.
Half an hour later, his head began to ache. Frustration mounted by the minute as Caroline alternated between assaulting him with questions and regaling him with witticisms that were no doubt intended to make her appear sophisticated and clever. They did neither. He sneaked another peek at Eleanor, who’d turned to ask Ashford a question he couldn’t hear—because the flirtatious chatterbox beside him seemed to require no breath.
Heat crept up his neck as Eleanor caught his eye and shot him a quick look of amused sympathy. Bollocks. He’d been staring at her like a damned lovesick schoolboy. Reluctantly, he returned his attention to the still-nattering Caroline. George’s gout, the woman was a bloody magpie! Her voice grated. Her high, tittering laugh annoyed. Her subtle innuendoes alarmed.
By the time dessert—the much anticipated strawberry tartlet—had at last been eaten and their hostess invited her guests to join her in the music room, he was fit for Bedlam. Rising with haste that very nearly upset his chair, he fled to the other side of the table to offer Eleanor his arm, no longer caring how it might appear. His talkative table companion was left no choice but to pair off with Marston, and he marked that neither of them looked very pleased over the fact. Their strange aversion to each other was a mystery that would have to be solved—later. For the moment at least, he’d been granted a blessed reprieve and was going to take advantage of it.
When they reached the music room, he deliberately led Eleanor over to a settee that would accommodate only two occupants. “I’ve missed these little gatherings,” he whispered to her as Rowena settled herself at the pianoforte and began to play. “I meant what I said earlier. I missed home…and this, more than anything.”
“You were missed as well,” she whispered back with a sweet smile. “Tonight was planned specifically for your enjoyment, you know.”
“Oh? And what of Marston?” he replied in a teasing manner. “Is he not also a special guest? Or is he here so often as to be considered commonplace—as was I, once upon a time?”
A faint grimace crossed her lovely face. “Lord Marston is here because Rowena wanted a dinner partner for Caroline. Unfortunately, I think Caroline already had someone else in mind,” she said, wincing. “I do hope she was not too much of an imposition.”
“Not at all,” he replied instantly.
The look she gave him told him she wasn’t convinced.
Laughing softly, he gave in. “Though I should like to have made it through at least one mouthful without interruption,” he admitted. “I feel as if I’ve been through an interrogation at the Tower.”
“I’m so sorry. Caroline can be absolutely relentless, and I fear she has developed a taste for your company that might not be easily dissuaded. If you wish me to speak to her, I shall.”
“No,” he answered at once. “Despite her foibles, I know her to be your friend and I would never wish to cause strife between you. I believe she will turn to other pursuits once amid London’s distractions. If not, I shall handle the matter with as much delicacy and regard for her feelings as possible.”
“Thank you,” she said with obvious relief.
He looked to the other side of the room where Caroline sat pointedly ignoring the gentleman beside her. “I cannot help noticing her cool attitude toward Marston,” he commented. “There is a history there, unless I am gravely mistaken.”
“You are not,” she murmured, dropping her voice so low that he had to lean closer to hear her. “He once attempted to court her.”
The scent of lilies clung to the creamy flesh of her neck. “Attempted?”
“Yes,” she answered with an infinitesimal nod. “He began his pursuit here in Somerset about a month before her debut. At first she received him with great enthusiasm, enough so that we all thought he would make an offer before the end of the Season and that she would surely accept. But he never came to scratch.”
“I cannot believe a man as honorable as Marston would trifle with any young lady.”
“I don’t believe he did,” she replied, leaning a little closer. “He was very kind and attentive toward her, and she appeared much taken with him—at first. But after she arrived in London she seemed to forget him. She set her cap for another, a titled fellow who charmed her with a handsome face and false promises. Lord Marston lingered for a while, but left off his pursuit when he did not receive any further encouragement from her. Then the devil she’d been mooning over married another by special license. It was an enormous scandal, one that left Caroline to return home having only barely escaped disgrace. When she again set her sights on Lord Marston last Season, he would have nothing to do with her.”
“Small wonder after having been cast aside in so callous a manner,” he said, immediately regretting his caustic tone.
“Yes, but there is more,” she breathed. “Caroline went without a single suitor last year and she blames Lord Marston for it, though there has never been any evidence to support her assumption. I believe there were several contributing factors. Eligible gentlemen were thin on the ground last year while there were several wealthy heiresses on the market, and then there was the matter of her reckless behavior the year prior. She’d come within a hair’s breadth of scandal, and people remembered it. But she chooses to fault Lord Marston rather than accept her own culpability.”
“If there is rancor between them, then it again begs the question: why is he here now?”
“My cousin and Rowena know nothing of her animosity toward him,” she answered, so close now that the wispy curls at her temple brushed against his ear. “Rowena thinks it failed to work out the first time because Caroline was too proud. Ever the optimist, she invited him here tonight in the hope that they might rekindle their initial liking for each other.”
“Do you think it possible that she still loves him?” He stared at her as she contemplated the question, fixing in his mind the curve of her cheek and the graceful line of her neck.
“I’m not certain, but I think it might be.”
“Her greeting tonight would say otherwise, as would her behavior at dinner.”
A wry smile tilted her mouth. “I think tonight was about attempting to take two birds with one stone, if you want to know. Not only is she out to bag you, but I think she was determined not to have to speak to him.”
“Perhaps she was trying to make him jealous.”
“I doubt it. She’s still furious with him. He came home without a bride last year even though Caroline made it clear she was available for the asking and more than willing to accept. Even if he was able to prove his innocence regarding the alleged gossip, she’ll never forgive him for that humiliation.”
The song ended and it was her turn to entertain. He sighed with relief when she called Caroline, who’d just risen and was now making her way toward him with frightening determination, to accompany her on the pianoforte. The twinkle in Eleanor’s eye told him she’d done it purposely, to spare him further exposure to any marital machinations.
While the pair was deciding which song to play, Marston came over and sat beside him. “I’ve been waiting all evening to have a word with you, my friend. You’ve been so popular with the ladies tonight that I’d begun to despair.”
“A fortunate happenstance that is unlikely to be repeated,” Sorin murmured, sipping the sherry handed to him by a passing servant.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Marston. “Seems to me you’ve captured more than one heart here tonight.”
“Oh? What makes you say so?”
A broad grin creased the other man’s sun-weathered face. “Oh, come now. I saw the way Miss Caroline looked at you during dinner—as if she would dine on you rather than the meal in front of her. And were you not just now sharing whispered confidences with Lady Eleanor? Your heads were bent close for quite nearly the whole of the song. Is she not the same Lady Eleanor for whom I carried many letters from you?”
“One and the same. But you already know that such correspondence was the result of a friendship forged between us in her childhood.”
“Mmm. Well, not to be blunt, but she is no child now,” murmured Marston as the subject of their discussion began to play. “And the way you’ve been staring at her all evening…” One shaggy, straw-colored brow lifted. “I won’t be boorish enough to point out the obvious. I only hope you can reach an understanding with her before it is too late. I would caution you about the temptations of London subverting your cause, but I know Lady Eleanor is not one to have her head turned easily. All the same, I advise you to leave nothing to chance. You ought to let her know how you feel, and soon.”
The blood began to pound in Sorin’s temples. “Am I so easily spotted for a fool?”
“Never a fool,” answered Marston kindly. “I think she would make you a fine wife, if you can convince her. She has sworn off marriage, you know.”
He met Eleanor’s smiling eyes over the top of the pianoforte, and his face prickled with heat. “I’m aware.”
Beside him, Marston chuckled. “This would be most entertaining did I not know you so well and so deeply sympathize with your plight.”
Turning, Sorin regarded his friend with all seriousness. “Sympathize?”
“Oh, come. Do you think I don’t know what the pair of you were whispering about over here? And even were you not, you cannot have failed to mark the manner in which I am treated by Miss Caroline.”
“I won’t lie and tell you that it went unnoticed, or that I did not express to Lady Eleanor my curiosity regarding the matter.”
“Then you must know that I’ve very likely made a lifelong enemy in Miss Caroline,” said the other man. “She despises me utterly.”
“An unhappy circumstance for you, unless I’m mistaken.”
“Indeed,” said Marston, his brisk manner at odds with the sadness in his eyes. “And to make matters worse, I absolutely must marry this year. I forfeit my inheritance to the next in line if I do not, and such is not an option as I must support my mother and two younger sisters, one of whom is a widow and the other unwed and unlikely ever to marry. Mother begged me to ask for Miss Caroline’s hand last Season. I very much wanted to comply, but I simply could not bring myself to do it.”
“Why? I was given to understand she was quite willing to accept you.”
Marston stared at his folded hands for a long moment. “I was too afraid,” he said at last. “The first time I pursued her, she dropped me for a more tempting prospect and I was humiliated. I was reluctant to bind myself to a woman whose affections I could not be certain of, so I avoided her while we were in London. My plan was to wait and renew our acquaintance upon returning home, where I’d at least have some privacy in the event of another rejection. But she would not see me. I was offered no explanation. When I finally cornered her and demanded to know why I was being treated thusly, she informed me that I was the cause of all her woes and then accused me of spreading lies about her in London.” His eyes were devoid of hope. “I swear to you on my honor that I never said anything about her that was unflattering. Though we are friends, I would not have even spoken to you of what lay between us had you not let on that you already knew part of the tale.”
Sorin disliked meddling in other people’s lives, but he disliked his friend’s misery more. “I would like to help you if it is within my power.”
“There is nothing to be done.” Marston’s pronouncement had a disturbing ring of finality to it. “She made her choice and has left me with none but to seek a wife elsewhere.”
“Do you still care for her enough to want to marry her?”
The other man didn’t speak for a long moment. “I loved her once. She was sweet and unspoiled when we first met.” His voice hardened. “But London infected her with its caprice, and now it is too late.”
“Perhaps not,” Sorin suggested. “She might be more forgiving if she knew the truth. Young ladies are often tempted to foolishness in their first Season. Might you not try just once more?”
Marston shook his head. “I thank you for your kind offer, but I beg you to leave it be. She did not find me worthy then, and she likely never will.” He fixed Sorin with a piercing stare. “As for you, my friend, don’t let this opportunity pass you by. If you love Lady Eleanor, you must be swift to claim her heart. Do not allow her to—”
But he was interrupted by applause, which both gentlemen hastily joined as the two women rose and curtseyed before their audience. Eleanor sent him a quizzical look that he returned with a smile. Caroline, however, had the demeanor of a thundercloud.