Chapter 7 #2
She took another several seconds to convince herself that, yes, it was an act, and an act only. Finally, she shook her head. “I will be there.”
“She … will be.” Her stepmother frowned, as if realizing the duke had just personally invited Elinor regardless of any bans Lady Morland had thought to keep up.
“On good behavior, of course,” Belinda insisted.
The duke let out a hard laugh. “Oh, let us not fool ourselves. Plenty of rakes and scandalized ladies attend those balls and are certainly not on their best behavior. I know I have not been in the past.” He flashed a devastating grin at them all equally.
“So, if Lady Elinor finds herself abrasive with her speech, then I shall listen, if that is indeed your worry, ladies.”
Her stepmother let out a high, shrill laugh, as if the idea was absurd.
It was not; that was exactly what they feared: that somebody, one day, would listen to Elinor.
That perhaps she would say something just beyond her passions and intelligence and sciences.
That maybe she would speak out about their cruelty.
For now, she bit her tongue.
“I am certain my stepdaughter is grateful for your kind consideration, Your Grace,” Lady Morland said carefully.
Elinor, dutifully, nodded.
“Then it is settled.” The duke smiled brightly, bracing his hands on his knees as he stood up.
“I shall take my leave, for I know I have taken up a considerable amount of your ladies’ time.
I shall see you at the Hales’ ball.” He addressed them all, but his eyes were only for Elinor, a pointed, repeated invitation.
“You ought to see your guest out, then, Elinor,” Lady Morland said, already rising. She curtsied to the duke, with Belinda angrily following suit, and Joanna, who had not said a great deal at all, did too.
“I shall,” Elinor murmured. She stood and led the Duke of Fairmont to the door of the parlor.
In a hushed voice, glancing back at her stepfamily before returning her gaze to him, finding it ever so intense, she spoke in a hushed tone.
“I think you overdid it with the compliments. Belinda will not be pleased.”
“I do not care for Lady Belinda,” he answered back in a voice scarcely above a murmur.
“I care for the repercussions of her jealousy,” she whispered.
“Then we shall discuss it. I cannot make it to the workhouse tonight, but I am certain I will have a moment to speak with you alone at the ball.”
“If I am permitted,” she admitted, almost bitterly.
“I am a duke.” He gave her that winning smile once more. “I have authority above your stepmother. If I wish to speak with you alone, I shall.”
Elinor fought down her flush, knowing he was just acting—he was just acting.
“Just … do not get me into trouble,” she whispered. “Please. I will go along with this, but I cannot risk what I—” What I endure here. “Our arrangement is not permanent. While you have other means to continue your life after this ends; I must face the consequences.”
Solemnly, he nodded. “I understand.” But then he smirked, leaning in close, but not improperly so in the face of her family in the background.
“But between us, I would prefer to spoil you with a flood of compliments, Lady Elinor. I fear other suitors have not done a good enough job of inundating you with such spoils.” He held her gaze. “In more ways than one.”
His eyes dropped to her lips, and Elinor cut her gaze away, but her eyes found his once more. They were still on her mouth, and her heart hammered in her chest.
Oh dear, nobody had prepared her for how visceral this act would feel.
Why was she letting him affect her in such ways?
Swallowing hard, she composed herself. “I have received the attention I deserve, Your Grace.”
He was already shaking his head. “No.” He shook his head harder. “No, Lady Elinor, I do not believe you have.”
And yet your own is only a ruse, so what else can I expect? She thought, rather self-depreciatively.
Nevertheless, the duke bowed to her, as she curtsied, and then he was gone, and she quickly excused herself to hurry out to the gardens.
Her heart did not calm down, not for a long while, even as she sank into a stone bench outside, breathing in the fresh air.
The Duke of Fairmont’s beautiful green eyes did not leave her mind for a long, long while.
Sneaking out while her stepfamily attended a ball was one thing—dodging staff, lying to Mrs. Falby that she was retiring for the night, asking Natalie for assistance while Belinda, Joanna, and Lady Morland slept only several rooms away—was quite another.
Still, Elinor had done this enough times that she had her routine hushed and practiced. The housekeeper did the nightly checks with Lady Morland, so Elinor did not have to worry about that. Natalie came and was quiet, whispering that the matches or horse she might require were prepared.
Quietly, Elinor pushed open her window and clambered out, keeping her eyes on her chamber door, waiting for footsteps, waiting for it to burst open, for the cry of She is sneaking out! To echo through Morland House.
She waited for her secrets to unravel, yet Elinor was quiet enough that she went unnoticed, and soon, her feet hit the grass outside, and she was free to flee to Fielding House.
Only, when she got there, she stopped stock-still.
Gaping up at the house’s exterior, she was in awe, for the duke had kept his word: there were building pillars and blocks around the outside, and, when she went inside, she found a new railing on the main staircase, as if that had taken priority.
“He has begun the renovations,” she whispered to herself, as if that would make it more real, as if that would convince herself that she had not simply been swindled into a strange arrangement without any reward for Fielding House.
“Heavens, he truly has,” she continued, as she explored the upper level where the school room was, where the old, threadbare and stained carpet had been torn up, yet hadn’t been replaced.
How much had the duke done in the several days since he’d made his promises?
Elinor picked her way through to the school room, finding a buzz of excitement and the children still crammed into that one space.
“Lady Elinor!” Toby cried as soon as she entered. “The staircase has been fixed! And we—we’ve been told that the classroom will be expanded! Isn’t that marvelous?”
“Quite,” she said, still in a trance from the realization that the duke had held his word. She felt a little guilty for doubting him so deeply, but he really had put in effort for Fielding House, and she knew this was only the beginning, if he meant what he said. “This is good news, indeed.”
“Does this mean that we’ll get a bigger space?” Billy piped up. “Because this room is a bit small.”
“It is, is it not?” she responded in empathy. “I believe it does, Billy. But—” She smiled at the room of children that all stared up at her with inquisitive, excited eyes. “But it does not mean that your studies shall slack.”
Angelica huffed as she sat near Toby at the front of the classroom. “We don’t want to slack, Lady Elinor.”
“And about that,” Elinor said gently. “You do not need to call me Lady. Where I come from, when we are taught by a governess, we call them Miss. I do not mind if I am Miss Elinor to you, and I’ll sound like your governess. How does that sound?”
“I like that,” Billy answered, smiling broadly. “Although, we saw you leave with the new owner. Ms. Agnes told us that he is a duke, so we have to respect him. Is that true?”
“Very true,” Elinor answered with another small smile. “Is that all right with you all?”
“Of course!” Toby piped up. “Only …” He frowned. “We haven’t seen much of him since that night that he spoke to you. He has been the one to begin working on the building, but we haven’t seen him.”
“Then do not worry about it,” she assured him. “He is a rather busy man. All that matters is that he is thinking of you, of this place. Yes?”
There was an answering chorus of agreement, and she smiled, beginning to hand out the usual slates and chalks.
One by one, the children were equipped, and she thought of the lesson she had already planned.
At the time, she had thought she could run it by the duke at their “first meeting” at Hyde Park that had been thwarted, but now she was glad she had not been able to.
He did not need to interfere with her lessons.
They were hers, and he did not know the children like she did.
Even as she launched into her lesson in mathematics this time, leaving behind the fictional storytelling of teaching the children the ways of science, the Duke of Fairmont remained on her mind.
There were even times she swore she could hear his low laugh in her ear as she messed up several equations.
Mathematics has never been my strong point, she answered that low laugh in her head, but she knew he was not there, even as her eyes kept straying to the door.
Eventually, she concluded her lesson, with the children sated and happy, sleepy and full of knowledge, so Elinor took her leave after receiving echoed Goodnight, Miss Elinor, our governess, and she smiled on her way out of Fielding House.
Sneaking back to Morland House was a nervous affair, but the townhouse remained silent, and Elinor returned to her bedroom without a hitch, her breath labored from the panic of being caught once more.
Yet she fell into a deep slumber, tired and happy with the night’s lessons.
Still, the absence of the Duke of Fairmont, strangely, was felt.