Chapter 3 #2
There would be no need to pretend, no need to wait for her feelings to develop, for there would never be any. She would never have to feel the quiet humiliation of realizing that what had been promised in the proposal would never be hers.
Eleanor’s expression remained composed, though her thoughts had shifted entirely. It would be an arrangement, and given who it would be with, it would be a safe one at that, but it was more than that.
She could not return to London as she had been.
She could not take another Season of carefully managed interactions, another several months of expectation followed by nothing. She would not endure it again.
A marriage would remove the need entirely, something that could not disappoint her because it offered nothing beyond what was agreed.
Lord Harrowby stood where he had been before, his attention directed elsewhere. There was nothing in it to suggest he was aware of her observation, nothing to indicate that she had been considered at all.
If he required a wife, someone capable of maintaining his household, of fulfilling the expectations attached to his position, then she could do that. Eleanor’s lips curved slightly, though there was no real amusement in it.
Anne’s voice broke gently into her thoughts.
"You are very quiet."
Eleanor turned back to her, her expression mellowing.
"I was thinking," she said.
"Heaven help us all."
"Actually, I have been most reasonable with my thoughts."
Anne studied her for a moment longer.
"And what have you concluded?"
"That my troubles can be easily solved, if I so choose. Perhaps it is time for me to grow up, Anne."
Anne did not look convinced. Eleanor simply smiled, as though there was nothing further to be said. It was, she realized, the most sensible solution she had considered in a very long time.
At last, Lord Harrowby left the room, and after waiting for a moment she followed after him. There was every chance that he would reject her, but that was a risk that she was more than willing to take.
"You have abandoned your post," she joked as she saw him.
He was on a balcony, the moonlight brightening his hair. He did not turn at once, but she was convinced that she saw him bristle at her presence.
"I was not aware that I held one."
Eleanor stepped fully onto the balcony, letting the door close behind her with a soft click. The sound of the gathering dimmed immediately, and in spite of the circumstances Eleanor felt rather relieved.
"You were standing in precisely the right position to observe without participating," she said. "It seemed deliberate."
"It was convenient."
"And reassuring," she replied. "It is good to know where one stands."
"And do you?"
"Not always," Eleanor said lightly. "But I find I manage well enough."
"You appear to be managing very well this evening."
"I make the effort."
"I had not expected you to enjoy it."
"I do not recall saying that I did."
"You did not need to. You have been smiling since your arrival."
She smiled faintly at the thought of him watching her. There was a brief pause, and not an uncomfortable one. The air was cooler, the quiet more pronounced.
"You have been much discussed this evening," she said.
"That is not unusual."
"No," she replied. "Though the subject is perhaps more focused than usual."
"In what way?"
Eleanor tilted her head slightly, as though considering how much precision she should give him. He had to be aware of the whispers, after all, but then that might have been his way of warning her not to say anything. Regardless, she had come this far. She had to see it through.
"You intend to marry," she said.
"People seem very certain of that," he chuckled.
"They are rarely so certain without cause."
"That does not make them correct."
"No," she agreed. "But in this instance, I believe they are."
Lord Harrowby said nothing. Eleanor studied him for a moment, as though confirming something she had already decided.
"You are making a lot of assumptions."
"I am," she said. "And I believe they are correct. You favor stability and predictability. A marriage would satisfy that."
"That depends entirely on the marriage."
"Yours certainly would, because you would not permit it to be otherwise."
There was a brief silence. Lord Harrowby regarded her steadily.
"You speak with a great deal of confidence."
"I speak with a reasonable understanding of your character."
He did not immediately respond. He looked out across the gardens as though in thought.
Eleanor knew that she was being coarse, and that she had been the very same that morning.
It was not entirely unlike her, and she wondered if that irritated him as much as his tendency to need perfection annoyed her.
"You are very direct this evening," he said at last.
"I find it saves time."
Julian’s gaze did not shift, though there was the faintest suggestion of something more attentive in it now. She took a small step closer, not enough to intrude, but enough to remove any remaining sense that this was an accidental encounter.
"You require a wife," she said.
"That is not anything I have said."
"It is true," Eleanor replied. "Whether you choose to acknowledge it or not."
"And you have taken an interest in this?"
"I have, yes."
"For yourself?"
"Yes, though it presents an opportunity," she replied.
"For whom?"
"For both of us."
He was silent for a moment. Eleanor wondered if he knew what she was about to say.
"You assume a great deal," he said.
"I do not assume," Eleanor answered. "I observe. You require a wife for practical reasons. I require a change in circumstances. In spite of what you might think of me, neither of us are inclined toward unnecessary complication."
"And you believe those requirements align."
"I do, on the basis that neither of us expects what the other has no intention of giving."
The words settled between them. Lord Harrowby did not respond. Eleanor held his attention for a moment longer, then spoke, just as plainly as before.
"You should marry me."