Chapter Thirty-Nine
Phin spent his night alternating between pacing aimlessly about his bedroom, and half-heartedly packing for a trip to…
anywhere else. Anywhere that he wouldn’t have Eleanor so temptingly close.
At least half a dozen times, he nearly strode from his bedroom and out the front door with the intention of sneaking into her house and up to her bedroom.
He was shameless and selfish. He knew it and hated it. But a part of him just could not fathom the idea that he’d never see her again. Never hold her. Kiss her. Hear her breathy pants in his ear and feel the dewy sweat of her heated, silken skin gliding against his.
By morning, he felt like a man who’d been tortured and tormented by the very fiends of hell. A hell of his own making.
When he eventually made his way down to his study and rang for the strongest pot of tea that could be brewed, he felt like a husk of a man.
And still, all he wanted was to go to Eleanor.
It didn’t escape him that if he’d done what he truly wanted and committed himself to her in marriage…
this was how it would be every time he had to leave her for his next adventure.
He didn’t even want to think about how she would feel…
but he did anyway. She would grow to hate him. And he would hate himself.
Despite how painful it was, it was far better to end things now. Surely.
Slumped in the corner of a leather chair, he barely registered Iago’s entrance with the tea tray. But when the man forcefully cleared his throat, Phin glanced his way.
“A package arrived for you, my lord, first thing this morning.”
Phin was quite ready to be done with unexpected packages and mysterious missives, to be honest, but when he glanced at the rough wooden box resting beside the teapot on the silver tray, a spark of lightning danced through his blood.
Iago bowed and walked away, but not before Phin caught the hint of a smirk curling the man’s mouth.
Pushing himself upright, Phin leaned forward, eyeing the smallish wooden box with wary curiosity. He’d always been easily tempted by a mystery. And this…felt somehow…
Damn it! The recent events had gotten to him. He didn’t believe in fate and destiny and whatnot. So, why did the contents of that box seem so blasted important?
He shook off the feeling and forced himself to pour his tea. He added a dollop of honey as usual, then decided to add one more just because it made him think of Eleanor’s sweet kiss.
Then he swore at himself. “Enough,” he said aloud, finally reaching for the rather crude wooden package about the size of a small cigar box.
Iago had already loosened the nails which had been secured to the lid and Phin easily lifted it open. The box was packed with straw and a folded bit of paper rested on top.
Though his body was tense with anticipation and suspicion, Phin perused the letter first.
Seeing Barnaby’s familiar script, he held his breath as he read.
After a lengthy debate, Aadesh and Drishti came to a firm agreement about the destined fate of the legendary honeybee bridal necklace.
They’ve decided it belongs where it always should’ve remained.
They believe their karmic debt can only be repaid by seeing the item which had been stolen so long ago, finally returned to the one to whom it had always belonged.
It took a bit, but I assured them that you would personally ensure the item safely reaches its rightful destination. I know you won’t let me down.
Your best mate, B
Phin didn’t have to dig through the straw to know what was laying within, but he did so anyway. The precious collection of jewels set in a stunning gold design felt warm as he unwrapped it from the length of black cotton. The glint and fire of the piece ignited an answering flame deep within him.
Holding the necklace this time felt different than it had any of the previous times. It felt right. Comfortable. Certain. Because there were no more questions. The mystery was solved.
Karma. Destiny. Love.
In that moment, they were all the same.
*
The next evening, Bridget and Lydia insisted upon getting ready for the ball they were to attend all together in Eleanor’s rooms at Lindley House. Though Eleanor would have loved to avoid the interrogation that was coming, it was simply unavoidable.
As expected, her cousins arrived early and together. Which meant they’d had time to discuss the prior evenings events the whole way over.
Once Eleanor’s bedroom door was closed, leaving the three women alone together, Bridget rushed to take position on the bed as she blurted, “Tell us everything.”
“But first,” Lydia said quickly as she cast a chiding glance toward Bridget, “please say you were unharmed by last night’s events.”
“I am perfectly fine,” Eleanor replied and her voice didn’t tremble even a little bit. Her chin may have, however. Because even though it was the truth in the sense of what Lydia had asked…technically, it was an utter lie. A lie her cousins instantly saw right through.
“Oh no,” Lydia muttered, holding out her hand. “Come sit.”
The three settled on Eleanor’s bed, sitting in a circle. Two gazes curious, one slightly avoidant.
“Did something go wrong?” Bridget asked. “Was Ackerly more of a beast than you’d thought?”
“Tell me he didn’t—” Lydia began with frigid fury.
“No,” Eleanor replied quickly. “He didn’t touch me. Not like that.” She lifted a hand to her temple which was still tender from when he struck her. “He did, however, intend to marry me and sail off to India with me where we could live out some deluded fantasy.”
Her cousins gasped. Bridget went wide-eyed, while Lydia’s mouth dropped open.
“Are you serious?”
“Quite. I saw the ship myself, ready and waiting.”
“Oh my God,” Bridget exclaimed, leaning forward to put her hand over Eleanor’s. “He managed to get you all the way to the docks?”
“Wasn’t the viscount supposed to keep you safe? How could he let that happen?”
“Lord Ackerly managed to delay him, but he did come to my rescue. Just in time,” she added with a smile. “Ackerly is being taken back to India where he will have to face the consequences for his actions.”
“And the necklace?” Bridget asked.
“Returned as well.” Eleanor’s hand lifted to her bare throat as she spoke. She had no idea why she experienced such a sinking feeling as she thought of the bridal piece.
A moment of silence followed, during which the other women exhaled in visible relief.
Then Lydia asked quietly, “And Waring?”
Eleanor’s body tightened with some sort of elemental resistance. As if she simply couldn’t allow thoughts of the man to sink into her consciousness for fear of what it’d do to her. Self-preservation had required that she put him from her mind the moment she walked away from him last night.
She didn’t know if it was her exhaustion after a fitful night or if the cracks that had been forming in her resolve had just reached their maximum stress point, but at Lydia’s soft question, she suddenly fractured. With a giant gulp of air, she held back a sob and swiftly shook her head.
Her cousins shared a glance before Bridget asked gently, “What will happen now? Between the two of you?”
“Nothing,” Eleanor said sharply. Rising from the bed, she began circling her room with agitated strides.
“That’s all done now. He’ll go his way and I’ll continue along mine.
As if—” she paused to take a breath and shake her head free of the emotional mist crowding her rational mind.
“As if nothing had ever happened. It’s for the best. It’s what he said at the beginning would have to happen.
It’s what I agreed to. What I accepted. I won’t beg him to stay.
I cannot.” She swept a hand through the air.
“He should be free to do as he wishes—to live as he wishes. And he’s right!
I’d never be content with being left behind.
I’d eventually resent his freedom. I’d hate him for doing what he wants when I cannot.
” Her skirts snapped about her legs as she pivoted.
“It’s ridiculous to imagine anything else.
And he’d feel guilty for it, I know he would.
He might even convince himself to change.
For me. I couldn’t allow that. Because then he’d come to hate me.
There’s no scenario where this works, you know. It’s best to just accept—”
“Stop! Just. Stop. I swear I cannot take another word of such bollocks!”
At Lydia’s sharp outburst, Eleanor ceased her manic rambling and purposeless pacing. She turned a startled gaze to her cousin who’d leapt from the bed and stood seething with anger.
“Who in hell said you had to accept such nonsense,” the woman continued in a curt tone, her eyes flashing. “If you want the man, why shouldn’t you have him?”
“That’s right,” Bridget exclaimed, bouncing on the bed.
“Haven’t you heard what I’ve said?” Eleanor retorted, swiping the back of her hand across her cheeks which had somehow gotten rather wet. “I can’t have him. Not in the way I want.”
Lydia took a step forward, her gaze narrowed and sharp. “Are you certain about that? Do you even really know how you want him?”
Eleanor scowled in confusion and sniffed back more tears. “What are you talking about? Of course, I—”
“No,” her cousin interrupted again, continuing toward her. “I don’t think you do. Not yet. But you’re going to.” She grasped Eleanor’s shoulders and forced her to meet her steady gray-blue stare.
“You don’t want a husband who leaves you behind while he goes off trekking about the world on exciting adventures.”
“Exactly, I—”
“And you don’t want him to stay home and become miserable because of you. Correct?”
Eleanor huffed, frustrated with the other woman’s high-handedness. “As I’ve said,” she replied through gritted teeth.
“There is a third option, you know.”
Eleanor froze. Was there?
Hope flared but she dared not nurture it.
“There is?” Bridget asked from the bed, clearly as confused as Eleanor.
Lydia rolled her eyes. “Really, the two of you are shockingly ignorant of your own potential. You should attend more lectures with me. It is time for you both to break free of society’s limiting expectations.” She looked back to Eleanor.
“You need to ask yourself what you really want, cuz. Do you really want to spend your life splitting your year between some country estate and a London townhouse? Do you see yourself sitting in a parlor sipping tea and entertaining guests you don’t even like just to keep up appearances?”
Eleanor cringed at the way her cousin described exactly what she was expected to do with her life.
“What else is there?” she whispered in dejection.
“Hell’s teeth!” Lydia exclaimed in disgust. “You do realize that you are capable of doing anything a man might choose to do. Just because society deems it inappropriate does not mean it is impossible.”
Eleanor really did feel like an idiot in that moment. She felt like the answer was right in front of her and yet she still couldn’t see it.
Lydia sighed. “You would never expect Phin to just stay at home when he would rather be exploring the world. So…why do you expect yourself to do it?”
Realization dawned like a bolt of lightning. Eleanor’s eyes widened enough to try the rest of her tears. “Holy hell,” she whispered, glancing to Bridget who’d lifted her hand to her throat and was staring at them with wide eyes. “Lydia’s a bloody genius.”
Bridget laughed. “No. We’re just dolts.”
Eleanor choked on a sob that turned into a laugh.
“You are what our narrow world has made you,” Lydia replied graciously. “But you have plenty of time to remake yourselves in your own image. Now, shall we ready ourselves for the ball? I believe Viscount Waring was on the guestlist.”
Excitement bloomed in Eleanor’s chest before she realized there was a good chance he wouldn’t be there. No doubt, he was already planning his next adventure.
“He’ll be there. He won’t be able to stay away,” Bridget assured with a wink before tapping her temple with one slim finger. “Hungry eyes, remember. The man can’t live without you.”
Eleanor hoped it was true, because she knew she had no desire to live any kind of life without him.