Chapter 5
Eleanor did not move from Julian’s side, and she did not plan to until it was time to leave.
The room had settled into its new understanding, the initial surprise having become something more controlled.
Conversations resumed, though never quite as they had been before.
Attention still returned to them again and again, but with greater discretion now, as though those around her did not wish to make it known that she was the topic of their conversation.
She knew that she was, but she tried not to mind.
She responded to their questions, nodded her head at the appropriate moments, allowed herself to be addressed and congratulated as though the announcement had been anticipated all along. It was seamless.
Then, at last, she realized that this would last far longer than the party.
It was no longer contained. The decision had passed beyond her control the moment it had been spoken aloud. It existed now in the perception of others, and they could do anything they wished with such information.
Strangers knew of her engagement before her family, and she would have to tell them as much upon her return.
"Miss Whitcombe?"
Eleanor turned, prepared to say the same words of thanks all over again.
Lady Rosamund approached with composed assurance.
Eleanor, in spite of herself, felt rather ill at ease in her presence.
She did not know her well, and Rosamund had avoided her throughout the party.
As far as Rosamund was concerned, Eleanor seemed to be too far beneath her to be worthy of speaking to.
"I suppose congratulations are in order," she said.
"Thank you. I am most pleased about it."
"And you should be! It is quite the match. It is all anyone here can talk about."
"So it appears."
A faint pause followed, almost imperceptible.
"I wish you every success," Rosamund said at last. "Lord Harrowby is a wonderful man. He would make any young lady very happy."
Eleanor nodded her head slightly. There was no doubt in her mind that Miss Rosamund had considered Julian an option herself, but there was no more than could be done even if that were the case.
"You are very kind."
"And you are very good at keeping secrets. Nobody here thought that this would happen, not at all. It is impressive, I must say."
"Yes, well, it is rather interesting what can be missed when one only thinks of what is evident."
She did not mean for it to be a slight, but she knew how it sounded. Either way, she did not care too much. Rosamund had been the one to start it, and in all honesty Eleanor rather liked having the upper hand for once.
Rosamund held her gaze for a moment longer, then smiled and nodded in return and withdrew without further remark. Eleanor did not allow herself to dwell on the encounter.
The carriages began to arrive, and Eleanor looked out at hers. As soon as she saw it, she froze. Henry exited it the moment it came to a halt.
Her brother had come for her.
He did not know about it, of course. He could not have, but she did not want him to know of it yet. She had hoped that she would tell her family all at once when she returned, rather than her brother learning of it from the gossip that he would undoubtedly hear as he walked towards the household.
She ran out to greet him first.
"Eleanor," he greeted when he saw her. "I trust you had a pleasant time?"
"I did. In fact, it was more beneficial than we expected."
"Oh? And why might that be?"
"Walk with me," she suggested. "I have so much to tell you."
Henry left with her for the garden path, the very same one that she had met Lily on. She wondered if the little girl knew, and if she did, what she thought of it all.
"So," she began, "I am marrying Lord Harrowby."
"I am aware of what has been said," he replied. "The moment I stepped down from the carriage, I was practically swarmed."
"And… well, what do you think?"
"I would very much like to know why you have agreed to it."
"I was not the one to agree, to be fair," she laughed. "I was the one to ask him."
That gave him pause. Henry stood still on the gravel path, eyeing her carefully. She was impulsive, that much was known, but this was something else entirely.
"It is a sensible match," she reasoned.
"That does not explain why you have done it," Henry exhaled, his restraint thinning. "This has been decided in a matter of days."
"It has been decided with sufficient thought."
"By whom?"
"By me."
He studied her closely, as though searching for something that might not yet have been fixed.
"You intend to bind yourself to a man you barely know," he said. "Without explanation, without–"
"I have given you an explanation."
"A poor one. You and Lord Harrowby cannot stand one another."
"It has never been like that! We do not hate one another. It is simply that he is so orderly and I am the opposite."
"Ah, yes. That will bode very well for a marriage."
Eleanor did not look away. She had already considered that herself, but it would be fine. She knew that, as long as she kept her distance, there would be no trouble.
"I will not be returning to London," she said. "I have no wish to resume what I left behind. This offers something different."
"What does it offer?"
"Stability," she said. "Purpose. A place where I am required."
"And that is sufficient for you."
"It is."
A brief silence followed. Henry’s expression did not change, but there was a quiet understanding in it now, one that she was grateful for.
"You have always wanted more than that," he said.
"Are you disappointed that I have settled? Most brothers would be thrilled."
He did not respond.
"This is my decision," she continued, her voice steady. "And I will not reconsider it. You must accept it, whether you agree with it or not."
He watched her for a long moment, as though weighing up the difference between what she said and what he knew of her.
At last, he nodded his head slightly.
"I see," he said. "There is no changing your mind, and given that everyone knows of it, I could not do so regardless."
"Good. There is nothing further to discuss. I am happy, Henry. Please believe me."
But she did not wait for a reply. She turned and moved back toward the carriages, toward the gathering, not knowing how she would manage the journey home.
When she saw Julian, she joined him. They did not greet one another, only standing a small distance from everyone else. Her brother did not look at her when he returned.
"Lord Harrowby," he began.
There was no attempt at politeness beyond the form itself. The restraint he had shown in the gardens had thinned, replaced by something far more direct. Julian inclined his head.
"Mr. Whitcombe."
"I would like an explanation."
Eleanor did not move. She had expected this. Not the exact words, perhaps, but she knew that it would happen. Henry did not accept things without question. He never had, and if Eleanor was not going to tell him anything, he would ensure that Lord Harrowby did.
"What is the meaning of this?" he continued. "And how has it come about so suddenly?"
Julian’s voice remained even.
"It was not decided without consideration. We are both in search of a match, and it is beneficial to us both."
Eleanor’s gaze shifted briefly between them, though she did not speak.
"You do not know her," Henry said, his tone hardening. "Not in any way that would justify this. And yet you stand there as though this is reasonable."
Julian did not interrupt.
"She is not suited to arrangements of this kind," Henry went on. "She never has been, and I will not see her placed in a position where she is expected to endure something that runs directly against her needs."
The words did not come as a surprise. That was the difficulty of them. Eleanor held her position, her hands loosely clasped, her expression unchanged. There was nothing in it to suggest agreement, and nothing to suggest resistance either.
"I have no intention of placing her in such a position," Julian said.
"That is precisely what you are doing."
"No," Julian replied. "It is a decision she has made with full understanding of what it entails."
Henry let out a short breath, not quite a laugh.
"You believe that is enough."
"I know that it is," Julian said. "Because I have not offered anything beyond what I am capable of giving."
Eleanor’s fingers tightened slightly against one another, though the movement was small enough to go unnoticed.
There was no hesitation in it, no attempt to soften what he meant.
Henry’s gaze shifted to her then, sharp, searching, as though expecting to find something– uncertainty, perhaps, or doubt, or something that might contradict what had just been said.
Eleanor met it without flinching. There was nothing to give him.
"And what is it you think you are offering?" Henry asked, his attention returning to Julian.
"Stability," Julian said. "Consistency. A defined position within my household."
"And nothing more."
"That is what was agreed."
Nothing more. Once, that would have been unthinkable for Eleanor. Once, she would have insisted upon something beyond it. She had believed that was the only kind of life worth having.
"You speak of this as though it were a contract."
"It is," Julian said. "In all the ways that matter."
"And you see no issue in that."
"I see no advantage in misrepresenting it."
"You see no issue in taking a woman who–"
"I am not taking her," Julian said, more precisely now. "You speak to me as though this is against her will. She has chosen this, and if she is content then it does not matter what you think of it."
Eleanor did not move under her brother's gaze. There was a moment when the weight of it pressed further than she had intended, but then it settled.
"What are your intentions toward her?" Henry said.
"She will be treated with respect. Her position will be secure. She will not be placed in uncertainty."
"What of the rest?"
Eleanor knew what he meant before he spoke it.
She wanted him to stop, because it was easier to go ahead with the plans if she did not think of what it meant for her.
She wondered, in part, if that was why Henry was doing this.
He would have wanted answers, certainly, but she considered that he wanted her to hear it bluntly too.
"What of love?" Henry asked.
"It is not something I can offer. She knows this, and has agreed regardless."
The air seemed to still.
There was no suggestion that time might alter it, or that circumstances might change. He would never love her, and that was that. She had understood it then, she understood it now, but that did not change the fact that her heart ached gently at the thought.
She had been the one to agree to it. She had asked him to marry her knowing that his thoughts would be unchanged, and even asked him a second time after he had made it perfectly clear.
He had never once given her the impression that she could change his mind, and she had gone along with it anyway. She had told him it was enough.
And it was enough.
Henry exhaled slowly, the tension in it still present, though no longer uncontained.
"You understand," he said, his voice low, "that I will not accept this lightly. She has chosen it. That is the only reason this conversation is ending as it is."
"That is perfectly fine. It is not my intention to cause you all any offense, but I will not pretend that this is not something we both want."
Eleanor remained where she was, her posture unchanged, though she felt the shift in him before her brother spoke again.
It was something that she wanted, was it not?
She had followed him out onto the balcony, and she had made her intentions known.
She had no right to dictate what he could and could not offer her.
"If you fail her," Henry said, more quietly now, "if you place her in a position where she is made to regret this, there will be consequences."
"That will not be necessary. I have no intention of failing your sister. I understand that you must do this, and that you have a duty to protect her, but I can assure you that it is needless."
Henry studied him for a moment longer, as though measuring the certainty of that response against his own understanding of what might come.
"I will hold you to that," he said.
Julian simply nodded.
"You may."
Henry’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, and then he turned away. Eleanor did not move immediately.
At last, she drew a breath.
"I apologize for that," she sighed.
"There is no need to," Julian laughed softly. "I know how it feels to be a brother. He only wants to protect you."
"He means well. He knows that this is not what I expected for myself, and so he is rather surprised that it has happened in his absence."
"Well, for all he knows, this has been against your will. I respect him for it, truly."
Eleanor was comforted by that, at least.
"In regards to the wedding," he continued, "I shall write to you. I see no need for a lengthy engagement, especially if you wish to leave London sooner rather than later. I can apply for the license and banns, and this can all be done with within the month."
It was not at all what she envisioned for her wedding day, but then the marriage itself was not either. Eleanor had accepted that, and she could not change her mind simply because she wanted a nicer ceremony.
"That sounds perfect. I shall see you then."
When she stepped back toward the others, her composure had already settled once more into place. There was no visible trace of what had passed.
There would not be.