Chapter 1
Eleanor looked back at her reflection.
“I do think you need to eat a little more, my lady.” Her lady’s maid, Gillian, set a pendant at Eleanor’s neck. “You have become a little paler these last few months, and I must say, I am concerned for you.”
With a wane smile, Eleanor touched the pendant lightly. “I am just a little anxious, that is all.”
“What of?” her maid asked, their relationship having been established for so many years, there was nearly enough of a friendship between them. “You made your come out last year, my lady, and that went very well indeed. I am sure you have nothing to worry about.”
A small sigh escaped her, but she quickly tried to smile. “You are quite right. All the same, I confess that there is still a nervousness within me.”
“You need not worry,” her maid promised, stepping back so Eleanor could admire her reflection. “Everything will go very well indeed and I am sure you will return home with a good many stories to tell of all the different gentlemen you danced with.”
Eleanor looked down at her hands, her heart still aching over the loss of Lord Finchley and her own blind trust in him.
“Mayhap.” Lifting her head, she saw the maid’s warm smile and felt it lift her spirits just a little.
“You are very good, Gillian. I should take my leave. The carriage and father will be waiting.”
Her maid bobbed a curtsy, and Eleanor managed to smile, pausing for a moment.
“And do not think you need to wait up for my return. Take yourself to bed, Gillian. You have no other duties this evening.”
A glowing smile spread across Gillian’s face. “Thank you, my lady. I hope you have a very pleasant evening.”
With a nod and a knot tightening in her stomach, Eleanor made her way from the room and descended the stairs.
This was not her first time in London, as her maid had said, but she felt as if it were.
The nervousness, the anxiety, and the worry were all the same as the previous year, though Eleanor was quite sure they came from an entirely different source.
What if he is here?
Chasing the thought away as best she could, Eleanor made her way to the carriage, which as she had thought, was already waiting for her, her father inside.
“You are a little late, Eleanor.”
“I apologize, Father,” Eleanor replied, sitting down quickly as the footman shut the door behind her. “I could not decide what necklace to wear.”
The Earl of Hereford cast an eye over her, then nodded approvingly. “You look very well, my dear.”
“I thank you.”
“You must make a match this Season, however. I hope you are aware of that.”
Eleanor swallowed hard as the carriage began to make its way towards Lord Kingston’s townhouse for the grand ball. “I know that you expect me to make a match, Father, but – ”
“It is not an expectation but a stipulation,” he stated firmly.
“Your sister was wed in her second Season, and you must do the same. To have a third Season means that your chances of matrimony slip away from you, Eleanor! Your mother and I want to see you wed and settled, just as your brother and sister are.”
Looking down at her hands, Eleanor said nothing.
She had not given much thought to her requirement to wed this Season, having been much too distracted by thoughts of Lord Finchley.
It was deeply frustrating to her that her heart would not permit him to free himself from her.
All she wanted to do was forget him, to step away from all thought of him, but still, he lingered.
She would awake in the night, having dreamt of being in his arms, of his returning to her with a deep and painful regret that he had ever treated her so cruelly.
Eleanor wanted to hate him, wanted to push him far away from her as best she could, but there was no strength and seemingly no willingness for her to succeed.
“Are you listening to me, Eleanor?”
She lifted her head. “Yes, father. I am.”
“You understand what you must do?”
A tremor ran through her as she lifted her chin and looked straight back at her father, making him out in the slowly dimming light of the evening. “You want me to make a good match with a suitable gentleman.”
“He must be an Earl or a Marquess – or even a Duke, if you can snare one!” Lord Hereford chuckled as if he had made some sort of joke. “You are not to marry lower than your standing, Eleanor. There is to be no talk of falling in love or the like, do you understand?”
This made a short, harsh laugh break from Eleanor’s lips as she kept her gaze away from her father. “Yes, Father. I understand. I can assure you, there is no thought of love or affection within my heart. That is not something I hope for.”
“Good.” He sniffed. “Your Aunt and Uncle are here also. Lord and Lady Cumbria?”
Eleanor looked out of the window. “Yes, I remember them.” Her aunt - her mother’s sister – was the Countess of Cumbria, having married the Earl of Cumbria the year before Eleanor’s own mother had wed. “Is cousin Catherine to be present?”
“It is her first Season, yes,” her father told her. “You will stay near them, for they will chaperone you when I am not present.”
Closing her eyes, Eleanor resigned herself to the fact that her father would not take a good deal of interest in all that Eleanor did or said.
There was a clear requirement for her to marry and to marry well, but it was not as if Lord Hereford was going to do anything to try and assist Eleanor in that!
“They will be at the ball this evening,” Lord Hereford finished. “You will stay with your Aunt, do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
There was nothing left for them to discuss and, as the carriage continued to roll on, Eleanor’s heart grew heavier.
She had not expected there to be such a weight of expectation upon her shoulders, and she certainly had not thought her father would be so disinclined towards assisting her with such a requirement!
Considering this, Eleanor let out a slow, sad breath.
She had hoped that her father would have been an active and willing chaperone, as she had seen him be with both her brother and sister before.
This time, however, without her mother present, it seemed that Lord Hereford was less inclined towards doing such a thing with any kind of fervency.
Instead, he was delegating responsibility to her aunt.
Whom I have not seen in some time, she thought to herself, her stomach twisting this way and that. And what if he is here? Will I have to explain to her all that has taken place? Or will I be able to contain my reaction to him?
Eleanor did not have much time to consider these things, for they soon arrived at the townhouse. Stepping out of the carriage, she looked all around, only for a squeal of excitement to catch her attention.
“Eleanor! Eleanor!”
Turning her head, Eleanor could not help but smile at the excitement that was splashed across Lady Catherine’s expression. “Catherine, good evening.”
“Good evening to you also!” Her cousin grasped her hand and pressed it. “Are you not tremendously excited for this evening? It is a grand ball, or so I hear!”
“And your first ball, my darling, which is why you are so very excited.” With a calming hand going to her daughter’s shoulder, Lady Cumbria – Eleanor’s aunt – reached out one hand to embrace her as best she could. “How very good to see you again, Eleanor.”
“And to see you both,” Eleanor replied as her father came to join them. “You have just made your debut, Catherine?”
“This afternoon!” Catherine exclaimed, her blue eyes dancing with anticipation. “And now we are here! Here at this wonderful ball where, I hope, I will be able to dance with some excellent gentlemen.”
“You need not worry about that, for I am sure that every gentleman in the place will be eager to dance with you.” Lord Cumbria, who had come striding towards them, smiled warmly at his daughter and then looked to Eleanor. “And with you also, I am sure!”
Eleanor nodded and murmured her thanks, noting the difference between his response to his daughter and her own father’s lack of interest in her. It was painful to see, but Eleanor forced herself to set that aside, thinking that it would do her no good to hold onto it now.
“It is good to see you all,” Lord Hereford said, one arm spread out towards the townhouse. “Shall we go in?”
“I am so very glad to be here with you, Eleanor.” Catherine, without warning, looped one hand through Eleanor’s as they walked together. “I am very nervous indeed, I confess it, but you have been here once already, have you not?”
Thinking her cousin a little talkative, Eleanor nodded. “Yes, last Season was my first.”
“Then you will be able to help me, I am quite sure.” Catherine let out a breath of relief and came a little closer to Eleanor, smiling warmly. “I do hope we will become friends. I know we are already cousins, but I should very much like to be friends also.”
Eleanor glanced at her cousin, seeing her eager expression, and found herself smiling despite the worry twisting through her.
She might very well need a good friend this Season, she considered, and mayhap Catherine would be such a thing.
“I should like that too,” she answered, as Catherine beamed at her. “Come then, let us step inside.”
Some hours later, Eleanor was quite exhausted. The ball had been going on for some time, and she had already danced a good many times with still three more to come.
“You look a little fatigued, Eleanor!” Catherine, who had chattered away quite happily throughout the evening and been very pleasant company indeed, looked at her with concern. “Are you quite all right?”
Eleanor nodded. “It is just that I have not been present at a ball for some time,” she replied, as her cousin smiled in understanding.
“I am not used to dancing so much! Besides which, my dancing master was a good deal slower than these gentlemen – though that might have been because of his advanced years!”
This made Catherine giggle, and Eleanor chuckled along with her, the nervousness that had been within her fading to nearly nothing.
With every minute that passed, with every passing second, she no longer felt as concerned as she once had been.
She had not seen sight or sound of Lord Finchley and, thus, she presumed that he was not present.
It did not mean that he was not in London, Eleanor knew, but all the same, she was glad he was not here with her at this ball.
“Your father will be pleased that you have danced so often, I am sure.” Her aunt approached, handing Eleanor and Catherine a glass of ratafia. “You have done very well, both of you.”
“Thank you, Aunt.” Eleanor looked at her for a long moment, seeing just how similar she was to her mother. “You are very good to chaperone me, when you already have Catherine.”
A warm smile came across Lady Cumbria’s face. “Oh, my dear Eleanor, I am very glad to do so, I assure you. It was your mother who wrote to me, in fact.”
Eleanor’s eyebrows lifted.
“She wanted to make sure that you were given the very best opportunity, just as your sister was,” her aunt explained. “I believe she knew that your father has grown a little wearied of society of late and feared he might not do as well in chaperoning you.”
“That is very good of Mother.” Eleanor clasped her hands to her heart, a tightness in her throat. “I did not know that she considered me so.”
“Of course she does,” her aunt replied firmly.
“Eleanor, you must know that she would very much want to be here with you if it were not that your sister’s confinement is expected to begin at any moment.
It was a difficult choice for her to be with your sister rather than here with you.
She expressed such a thing in her letter to me. ”
Eleanor’s eyes filled with tears. “I did not know these things, Aunt. Thank you for telling me.”
“I am glad to reassure you,” came the reply. “I am sure that we will be able to find you an excellent husband, Eleanor, and that your mother will be delighted with him also.”
Making to respond, Eleanor’s eyes caught sight of a brown haired gentleman making his way through the crowd, a young lady on his arm.
His profile was familiar and, with a gasp, Eleanor stumbled back, shock pouring into her as her heart began to pound furiously.
Her glass of ratafia slipped from her fingers, shattering on the floor, but Eleanor gave it no heed.
Without thinking, without so much as taking a breath into her lungs, she spun on her heel and hurried away, the edges of her vision going black as she fought desperately to get as far away from that side of the ballroom as she could.
He is here, her mind screamed, as she stumbled over her own feet, such was her haste. Lord Finchley is here after all.