Chapter Five #2
“A gentleman who enjoys discussing his detailed method of arranging his hair each morning. He also takes great delight in identifying anyone he sees whom he feels does not take enough care with his or her own appearance.” Eleanor’s eyes darted to Peter before settling once more on the path ahead of them.
“Did you know that I could be passably handsome, if I took a bit more care with my morning toilette?”
“This bounder said that you?”
Far from felled by the insult she had received from the yet-unidentified gentleman, Eleanor grinned up at him. “I told him that he could be passably perceptive, if he made a visit to an optician.”
Peter laughed louder than was generally acceptable at a ball. He couldn’t help himself. Eleanor Sherwood was a delight. What other young lady would have so neatly put an impertinent gentleman in his place?
“And how did this unnamed companion of yours receive your very valuable advice?”
“He didn’t say another word until our ride concluded.” Eleanor didn’t quite hide her amusement. “I believe that qualified my comment as a rousing success.”
“I had no idea a drive with you could be such a potentially dangerous undertaking,” he said. “Suppose I had fallen afoul of your sharp wit?”
Her laughing grin turned to what he felt certain was a fond glance. “You would have more than held your own, I am certain of it. And better still, you would have been kind.”
Peter stopped their forward movement and gazed more closely at her. “Was his behavior toward you even more reprehensible than you have indicated?”
Her gaze dropped a little, though her posture remained upright and resolute. “His behavior is always at least a little reprehensible.”
Always? This, then, had not been a mere acquaintance. Oh, heavens. She was speaking of Broadstead. The insult and belittlement and reprehensible treatment had come from the very gentleman her parents intended she should marry.
She had said she held out hope that they could be persuaded to not pursue the match, and that she meant to do all she could to convince them. If anyone could manage such an impossible task, Miss Sherwood could. Their brief interactions had proven her to be a lady of incredible resolve.
“The breeze through the windows is pleasant,” she commented. “It rather reminds me of the cool air of morning, very invigorating and relieving.”
“Do you spend many mornings in the out of doors?”
She nodded. “Every morning, in fact. The park nearest our house is very quiet and peaceful, if one can manage to be there before nine o’clock. Beyond that, the nursemaids bring their charges and a number of older ladies gather there to talk and take a bit of air.”
“But you arrive before them all?” The ritual fit her. No laziness or half-hearted attempts at success for Eleanor Sherwood.
“I appreciate the peace,” was her answer.
Peace. Something she clearly did not enjoy at home.
The musicians struck the opening notes of the next set. Peter, who truth be told was not overly fond of dancing, found himself eager to do precisely that. He would have a few minutes more of Eleanor’s company.
“Shall we join the dancers?” Peter asked.
A man’s voice, and not Eleanor’s, answered his inquiry. “Miss Sherwood would do better to join her parents rather than making a spectacle of herself wandering a room with a gentleman her parents have not chosen for her.” Broadstead. His words had been clipped and tight.
“Would I not have made more of a spectacle by refusing to stand up with a gentleman my parents had insisted I stand up with?” Eleanor replied. “How very impolite I would be, and what a dishonorable daughter.”
“They gave you permission to dance with Havensham?” Broadstead sounded entirely doubtful.
“They rather insisted on it.” Eleanor gave Broadstead an overly sweet smile. “If you will pardon me, sir, I am engaged for this set.”
Broadstead’s jaw tightened. He took hold of Eleanor’s arm and inched her in his direction.
Though he lowered his voice, the harsh words spoken to Eleanor were discernible to Peter.
“I endured your insolence when we were alone in the carriage, but I will not permit you to speak to me this way in public.”
“This is the person I am,” Eleanor replied. “If you don’t like—”
“Women change when faced with the right motivation.” Broadstead yanked Eleanor’s arm with enough force to pull her away from Peter. “Come back to your parents and sit quietly as you ought.”
Eleanor, apparently feeling that further antagonizing the man wasn’t wise, began making her way back to the other side of the ballroom. Peter hadn’t been permitted a single word. He wouldn’t have known what to say.
Broadstead was not so tongue-tied. “Do not think I haven’t sorted what you’re about, Havensham.
I know your estate is not as valuable as it once was.
The Sherwood girl has a sizable dowry, a quickly advancing age, and a rumored inheritance from a wealthy and childless uncle.
” He leaned in close, his beady eyes narrowing on Peter.
“This is my plum to pick; find your own tree.”
Peter held his ground. “Was that a threat?”
“Yes.” Broadstead straightened each cuff, then smoothed the front of his jacket. He gave Peter one last look, his lips curled in derision. “Yes, it was.”
Robert Carlton, whom Peter had attended this ball in hopes of seeing, stopped beside Peter mere moments after Broadstead disappeared into the crowd.
“Three years away, and you return to Town to spend your nights in company with Broadstead?” Robert never had been one for small talk or unnecessary niceties.
“He has taken to harassing a lady of whom I am growing increasingly fond,” Peter informed him. “I am beginning to suspect he intends to make her entirely miserable.”
“That, my friend, has become his specialty.” Robert’s tone was not one of indifference. Indeed, an undeniable dose of personal injury lay in those words.
“What do you know of him?”
Robert lowered his voice. “You care about this young lady?”
“I do.”
Robert nodded. “Then there are a few things you ought to know.”