Chapter Fourteen
L ady Raby seemed to know Belmont House well. Still with her hand on Elenora’s arm, a fact which was making her prey want to twitch free, she guided her into a sizeable, curtained alcove, equipped with a two-seater, velvet-upholstered sofa. She sat down, and her grip on Elenora’s arm tightened as she compelled her down beside her. “Now,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Let us have our little talk.”
Elenora swallowed. Whatever was this hard-faced woman, and there was no other way of describing her, about to say? However, a determination not to be cowed by her burgeoned. She lifted her chin and looked her in the eye. Admittedly with difficulty. “My lady?”
Lady Raby released her hold on Elenora’s arm, and leaned toward her. “He’s only marrying you because his father wants an heir to the earldom.” Her voice was nothing more than a vicious hiss, and her eyes, those diamond-hard eyes, flared with hatred. Even Elenora could recognize that for what it was.
Before she could stop herself, she shrank back. Was this the sort of conversation one had with ladies one didn’t know in alcoves at balls? Could Lady Raby, despite her title, truly be classed as a lady if she behaved like this? Beyond the curtained alcove, the sound of music and laughter and conversation receded as though suddenly far away. Nearly twenty years of country life had not prepared Elenora for an attack like this. However, honesty prevailed.
“I know.” This wasn’t quite a lie, as Jack’s father most certainly did long for his son to provide an heir. Just it wasn’t going to be through her.
Lady Raby’s eyes narrowed. “A marriage of convenience, then.” Not a question but a statement.
Elenora refused to allow her eyes to waver toward the ballroom, in search of help. The struggle was making her heart pound so hard she expected any moment for Lady Raby to remark on the noise. “Absolutely.” If only someone would come. Anyone. But Lady Raby had chosen this alcove with care.
To her satisfaction, her honesty seemed to have taken Lady Raby aback. Perhaps she’d been expecting a fit of the vapors and tears. Well, she was going to be disappointed.
She soon regained her composure though. “And I daresay your parents have benefitted from selling off their daughter to the highest bidder.” Spittle flew. “I gather you come from a large family—Lord Amberley will have seen you as good breeding material, I’m sure.” She lifted her right hand and flicked Elenora’s golden curls. “And pretty enough, I’ll allow, to make getting that heir not an unpleasant task for Broxbourne.”
This was insupportable. It was bad enough subjecting herself to occasional contact with those she knew, but strangers were not allowed to touch her. Elenora’s hackles rose. Mama had drummed it into her enough times that she was just to nod and agree with anyone she met out of politeness, but this was too much. She couldn’t sit there and take this woman’s insults. Best to keep it polite though. “I don’t think you should be speaking to me in this way.” She invested her voice was as much regal haughtiness as Augusta liked to use when dealing with their youngest sisters.
Lady Raby’s face darkened. Whereas Jack could look quite devilish, it was in the most attractive of manners, but this, this was frightening, or it would have been had Elenora possessed less backbone. How had she ever thought Lady Raby beautiful? Now, her face twisted into something ugly and malevolent, as though she were the wicked fairy from one of Elenora’s childhood books. “It won’t last, you know,” she spat. “He’ll pay you attention to start with, of course, because you’re pretty enough, but once he has that heir in his nursery, he’ll lose interest in you soon enough. And probably before that, when carrying the heir makes you fat and ugly. He’ll be happy enough to leave you in the country and be back in Town with me.” She bared her teeth, which were long and yellow like a wolf’s, or at least they appeared so. “You’ll see.”
Of course, this woman had been Jack’s mistress, not that Elenora had forgotten, but she’d always thought mistresses, if they’d ever crossed her mind, just moved on to the next man after they’d done with the first. That Lady Raby carried feelings for Jack was obvious. Had this woman approached her in anything but this way, Elenora might have felt sorry for her. He’d been forced to cast her aside—because he was now engaged. Briefly, the notion that he’d done so for her warmed her insides. But then the thought took over that perhaps he’d never seen his mistress as she was right now—a woman contorted so much with hate that she’d cornered the woman she saw as her rival at a ball. Was it love that had prompted this outburst, or was she just a woman scorned, jealous that someone else had, she thought, taken her place in Jack’s life.
Elenora rose to her feet. “I’m sure you think you know what you’re talking about,” she said. “But you are wrong about many things. Jack and I might be engaged to suit his father, but we are at least on terms of friendship, and that is clearly more than you are. Good bye.” She turned on her heel and plunged out of the alcove, straight into Jack’s arms.
Jack had started to look for her as soon as Dugdale and Westlake located him in the card room and informed him of what had happened. He’d excused himself to the other players on a matter of urgency and managed to escape the game he was part of. The thought of what Louise might say or do to Elenora disturbed him, although they were in a place as public as a ball, so hopefully etiquette would keep her silent. For the most part.
He was just heading into the ballroom, when Elenora catapulted out of an alcove on his right, straight into his arms. Out of instinct, he wrapped them around her, holding her for a moment against his chest, a warm feeling drenching him from head to toe. To his surprise, at first she made no attempt to free herself, but heads were turning, so he released her. And, over the top of her head, he saw Louise, still seated inside the shadowy alcove, her gaze fixed on his face, like a starving man might stare at a slice of bread.
What had Louise said? Elenora was trembling, her bosom heaving as though she’d run at least a mile, but from the flash in her wide blue eyes he could tell it was from anger rather than fear. He pulled her arm through his. “Come, let us walk together. I think you could do with some fresh air.” He’d deal with Louise later.
Elenora for once made no objection, so he led her out onto the terrace at the back of the house where a couple of men were leaning on the balustrade drinking whisky in the dim light of some colored lanterns.
She shivered in the cold, and in a moment he had his coat off and draped around her slender shoulders. She looked up at him, but he couldn’t see her face in the gloom at this end of the terrace nor tell what she was thinking.
With a long sniff, as though she were checking to see if it smelled, she drew the coat about herself. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” But my goodness, it was chilly. Better get this over with quickly before he froze in just his shirt sleeves. “What did she say to you?”
With a glance in the direction of the two other fellows, Elenora moved closer. The scent of her perfume tickled his nostrils. Inside, the band struck up Sir Roger de Coverley. If he wasn’t engaged to her, and it wasn’t all a hoax, and there weren’t two possible witnesses, he’d have been tempted right now to take her in his arms and kiss her, for the fun of it. She was, after all, a very beautiful girl, and her quirky personality fascinated him.
Elenora kept her voice low. “She tried to warn me about you, is all, truly. But I didn’t like the way she spoke to me. She was not polite at all.” He could almost hear the frown on her face. “Mama took great pains to caution me, time and again, before we came up to London, that I should not argue with my betters or elders, but really, I had to tell her she had no place saying those things to me.”
Jack frowned. “You didn’t tell her the truth, I hope? She’s not a woman I’d trust to keep a secret like that.”
She shook her head. “Of course I didn’t. I’m not stupid. I thought you’d worked that out for yourself.” Indignation colored her voice at his implication. “But I did have to admit to her that it was a marriage of convenience, which I suppose it almost is. An engagement of convenience, if you want to be pedantic. So I wasn’t telling a lie.”
Jack breathed a sigh of relief. “You must ignore everything she says to you. She’s a spiteful woman when crossed.”
She moved closer still, ingenuous as ever. “I suppose she is… I mean was… your mistress, so perhaps she feels a little proprietorial about you.” Now she sounded openly curious. No doubt she’d never come across anything so intriguing as a mistress. Sir Nicholas probably wouldn’t have dared, any more than Simon would. Strong women could put a chokehold on a man’s private life. Another reason for not wishing to marry. Why was it he kept having to repeat the reasons why he didn’t want to? Was he reassuring himself in case he weakened at some point?
Elenora’s shoulders rose in a shrug. “She did seem inordinately annoyed that you had got yourself engaged to someone like me, a nobody, although I think that whoever you had become engaged to, she would have hated them with a vengeance.”
Refreshing as it was that she always spoke her mind, it was also embarrassing. He’d never had occasion to discuss his amatory liaisons with any other woman. His mother knew of them, in all probability, but wisely held her counsel. However, Elenora was a virginal nineteen-year-old with whom he should not be discussing his ex-mistress. However, honesty breeds honesty.
“I suppose I am forced to admit that I didn’t treat her well in severing my association with her. I fear her feelings were more engaged than mine were.” This was all far too awkward. “But she knew our liaison could never have come to anything, and it would have been impossible to continue with it after my engagement. Our engagement.”
Her eyes caught the light for a moment. They appeared to be sparkling with curiosity. Was she enjoying this? Clearly so. “I think it quite fascinating that you have had mistresses. I’ve never before met anyone who has admitted to that, although I’m quite sure my two brothers are thus attached, or want to be.” She chuckled, perhaps at a memory. “And it’s perfectly splendid that you’re able to discuss them with me, which makes me convinced that we are true friends now. Your friend Dugdale seems very fond of the word splendid. I thought I would borrow it from him.” She paused, head tilted a little to one side, birdlike. “I was just wondering, though, if you had ever seen Lady Raby when she was truly angry?” She shivered. “I am not a girl normally shocked, but the look on her face was something quite unpleasant. And I’m being tactful.” She chuckled again, a delightful low gurgle. “Not something Mama thinks I ever am.”
Jack found himself tempted to join in her merriment. “Your lack of tact is something I find infinitely amusing. It’s refreshing to be in the company of one so unrestrained by normal social mores.”
She chuckled again as though this too was enjoyable. “But aren’t you getting cold? I have your coat and you only have your shirt and waistcoat. Although both are very smart, I daresay that doesn’t count toward their quality of warming you. Shall we go back inside? I have quite forgotten how horrible Lady Raby was now, and will steer well clear of her on the ballroom floor. In fact, I should be quite happy to steer clear of everyone and go home. You already know I don’t care for crowds, I think.” She laid a dainty hand on his arm. “Would it be too much to ask if you would be so kind as to take me home in your carriage? Then, if you return, you can dance with Lady Raby and cheer her up a bit. She looked as though she needs it.”
What a girl. He shook his head. “Your kind sentiment in suggesting I dance with her is wasted. I’m finished with Lady Raby. You saw her at her worst, as I did when I informed her of my engagement. Behavior like that is not the way to regain my attention, and she needs to understand that. I shall not be dancing with her again.” He smiled, a bitter taste in his mouth. “Nor anything else. Rest assured. And even were I of a different frame of mind, it would not be acceptable for me, as a newly engaged man, to be seen to pay attention to the woman who used to be my mistress.”
Her face caught the light and he saw her smile. “But you will still take me home? I can ask you this as we are alone, and engaged of course, but Aunt Penelope would be horrified. She thinks attending balls is the most important thing in the world for a girl and doesn’t countenance any other opinion. And I, for one, do not like balls at all. Perhaps we can tell her I have a headache.” Her face brightened further. “And if you tell her instead of me, then she will have to believe you. I’ve had my fill for one night of people staring at me. You can have no idea how embarrassing that is.”
He shrugged, puzzled by her vehemence. “People often stare at me. I ignore them, and you would be best to do the same. But if that’s what you want, I suppose we can but try. Come inside. I’ll have to have my coat back before we go in, though.”
She hesitated, an earnest expression on her face, clearly visible now they were nearer the doors. “You don’t understand. And it’s near impossible for me to explain. I know most people don’t feel the way I do about crowds—about people in general. None of my sisters or brothers have the least difficulty with them, yet I find going out in public the hardest thing I have to do.” Her eyes moved to the doors. “And this is very public and very crowded.” She put her hand to her breast. “My heart is pounding with anxiety as it has been doing all evening long.”
He turned toward her, one hand going up to her shoulder, the other lingering as though he wanted to feel for that rapidly beating heart. He didn’t, of course. That would have had her flying for safety.
She didn’t budge. “It’s something I’ve struggled with all my life. Which is why coming out and having a season in London is such a burden for me. Every social event I have to go to is an ordeal because I know no one, and because I’m convinced, even though I’m told it can’t be true, that everyone is staring at me.” She paused. “It’s hard enough for me to admit it here, to you, but I’m doing it because I think you might be able to understand me if you try.” She looked down at her hands. “Your treatment of little Edward makes me think you are inclined to sympathy.”
The urge to fold this delightfully honest young woman to his chest and soothe her fears away washed over Jack like a tidal wave. Why was he feeling like this? Never in his life had he felt an instinct like this one. Plenty of times he’d felt desire overcome him, but never the longing to keep someone safe. Apart from Edward, and the children he rescued from the streets.
He became aware he was staring at her like a moonstruck calf. Not a good idea. Time to say something. He had to clear his throat, but even so his words came out on the gruff side. “I believe you, Elenora.”
Her face lit up. “Thank you, Jack.” And before he could stop her, she’d stood on tiptoe and planted a light kiss on his cheek. “You know, I could really get to like you, Lord Broxbourne.” And with that she shrugged off his coat and handed it back. As he was struggling into it, she was through the door and off onto the dance floor in search of her aunt. All Jack could do was follow her.