Chapter 7
“Ihear that things are going rather well.”
Eleanor looked at her father as they walked into the ballroom. “Father?”
“Your aunt says that you are making many new acquaintances and, thus far, have danced many dances. I must hope that this evening will prove just as successful.”
With a nod, Eleanor glanced at her father, aware that the only desire in her heart this evening was to find Lord Finchley. There was a good deal of anxiety surrounding that thought, but Eleanor was not about to step away from it, not after what she had received from him and what she had witnessed.
“I will be watching you this evening,” her father continued, with what looked like a warm smile.
“Your aunt will still be your chaperone, of course, but I will step out from the card room every so often to see just how successful this evening has been. As you know, my dear, you are expected to make a match.”
Her thoughts of speaking to Lord Finchley began to fade. “Yes, I am well aware of what you expect of me.”
“Then let us hope that soon, there will be many gentlemen callers,” he said, gesturing to where her aunt stood, talking to a lady that Eleanor did not know. “Go, now. I will have a look at your dance card at the end of the evening to see just who it is you have been dancing with.”
With a tightness in her throat that had not been there before, Eleanor nodded and moved away, beginning to think that her intention of finding Lord Finchley this evening was no longer a priority.
If her father were to look at her dance card, if he were to come to make certain she was doing well, then that was what she would have to concentrate on.
Her heart sank.
“Ah, Eleanor, good evening.” Her aunt smiled. “Come, let me introduce you to my dear friend, Lady Stockport.”
Eleanor nodded and then curtsied as she was introduced. As she rose, however, a gentleman came towards them, his eyes upon Lady Stockport. She watched as the lady exclaimed her delight upon seeing him and then, with one hand on his arm, gestured to them all.
“Now, you must let me present you to these wonderful ladies,” she said, with a warm smile. “Lord Ashworth, this is my close friend, the Countess of Cumbria, with her daughter, Lady Catherine, and her niece, Lady Eleanor.”
Eleanor dropped into a curtsy as Lady Stockport introduced the gentleman as the Earl of Ashworth.
As she rose again, she studied the gentleman for a moment or two.
He was a stocky fellow, with fair hair brushed back from his forehead and brown eyes that held no warmth.
Given the way that Catherine smiled at him, Eleanor presumed that she found him handsome, but for her part, she did not think him overly so.
“How very good to meet you all.” Lord Ashworth bowed low. “I must hope that your dances are not all yet taken, Lady Catherine, Lady Eleanor?”
Eleanor blinked, then looked down at her dance card. They had only just arrived, and thus, she had no dances taken as yet. “The ball has only just begun, Lord Ashworth,” she said, taking her card and handing it to him. “We have nothing as yet.”
“Capital!” Lord Ashworth replied, smiling at her as if she had answered all of his fervent prayers. “And tell me, are you permitted to dance the waltz, Lady Eleanor?”
Surprised at his question, given that they had only just been introduced, Eleanor glanced at her aunt, who nodded. “Yes, Lord Ashworth. I am.”
“Excellent!” He took a few moments to sign both her and Catherine’s dance cards. “Then it shall be the polka for you, Lady Catherine, and the waltz for you, Lady Eleanor.” His eyes fixed on hers, and Eleanor swallowed tightly, wondering at his interest. “I am looking forward to it already.”
When he excused himself and took his leave, Eleanor let out a slow breath and looked down at the floor, wondering what such a thing might mean.
“Well, it is clear to me that you have certainly caught Lord Ashworth’s attention, Lady Eleanor!” Lady Stockport beamed at Eleanor as if she ought to be truly delighted at this. “Are you not pleased?”
Eleanor pressed her lips together. “It is only a dance, Lady Stockport, though of course it is very kind of him to take the waltz. I have not danced it this Season yet.”
Lady Stockport chuckled and looked to Lady Cumbria. “You will have your niece wed within the month, mayhap!” she laughed, “and no doubt, your daughter soon after that. What a successful Season that will be!”
“Do you think well of Lord Ashworth?” Catherine asked as Lady Stockport stepped away. “I thought him very handsome.”
With a small shrug, Eleanor caught the twist of Catherine’s lips. “It is not that I think him unhandsome, of course. I am surprised that he wanted to take my waltz so soon after our meeting, I must admit.”
“He is a forward gentleman, I think,” Catherine replied, as Lady Cumbria nodded. “There is a simple way to remove him from your company if you do not wish for him to be there, however.”
Seeing the glimmer of good humor in her cousin’s eye, Eleanor began to smile. “And what is that?”
“Why, you must stand on his feet or trip over your own as you dance,” Catherine said, as Eleanor laughed. “That way, you can be quite sure that he will never approach you again!”
With Lady Cumbria berating her daughter gently, albeit with a gleam of amusement in her eye, Eleanor looked around at the crowd, wondering just who they might speak with next and who else might want to write their name upon her dance card.
At the back of her mind lingered Lord Finchley, but Eleanor did her best to try and set him aside.
There was no promise that he would be here, and given what her father had said, she was not certain she could do as she had hoped.
“Good evening, Lady Eleanor.”
She half turned as a voice came from her left. For a moment, her heart quickened as she saw the light brown hair and broad shoulders, only for it to sink low as she realized it was not Lord Finchley. “Lord Broadbent, good evening.”
“Good evening. Might I have your dance card?”
Eleanor tried to smile and handed it to him, hoping that her father, if he were watching, would be satisfied.
“And Lady Catherine?”
“You must introduce us, my friend!” Another gentleman, one that Eleanor did not recognize, came towards them all as her aunt took a step back, a smile on her face.
“Here you are with two beautiful young ladies, with both of their dance cards in your hand, and here I am with nothing whatsoever!” He grinned at Eleanor, and whilst she smiled back, there was something about him that seemed familiar.
“We would be glad to be introduced,” Catherine replied, as Eleanor tried to keep her smile pinned, wondering why she felt as if she knew this as yet unintroduced gentleman already. “If you please, Lord Broadbent?”
With a heavy sigh, he put one hand to his heart. “If I must, although I must say that I am displeased to have to share your acquaintance, Lady Catherine.” This made Catherine blush as Eleanor hid a smile, thinking Lord Broadbent to be something of a flirt.
“Might I present Lady Catherine, daughter to the Earl of Cumbria, and her cousin, Lady Eleanor. I believe your father is the Earl of Hereford?”
“Yes, you are quite correct, Lord Broadbent.”
“Excellent.” He beamed at her. “Lady Catherine, Lady Eleanor, this is the Earl of Preston.”
Eleanor curtsied quickly, wondering why Lord Preston’s smile had shattered and why his gaze had become fixed on her face. “Good evening, Lord Preston.”
“Good evening,” Catherine added, as she too rose from her curtsy. “Are you enjoying the ball?”
Lord Preston did not respond. The way he was staring at Eleanor made her feel most uncomfortable, and she shifted on her feet, nervousness clawing at her chest. It was only when Lord Broadbent cleared his throat that Lord Preston started and then flushed hot, pushing one hand through his hair. “
“Forgive me, I was lost in thought,” he said, with a quick smile. “Yes, your dance cards, if I may?”
Handing hers to the gentleman, Eleanor licked her lips, wondering what it was about her that had caused the gentleman to respond so. She did not have any thought as to what it might be, confused as to his strange reaction to her, which, in turn, made her most unsettled.
“Brother, there you are. I was just – ”
A familiar voice made Eleanor’s heart cry aloud, slamming against her ribs painfully. The back of her neck prickled as she slowly turned her eyes to the gentleman, finally landing upon Lord Finchley.
He was gazing back at her, a redness in his face that increased in intensity with every second.
The tightness in Eleanor’s chest did not lessen, and it took her some time to realize she was holding her breath.
Lord Preston was saying something, but Eleanor did not know what it could be, hearing nothing but a light buzzing in her ears.
The room around her began to fade away, shrouded now by all that she felt, leaving only herself and Lord Finchley together.
“Yes, yes, of course.” Lord Finchley cleared his throat and bowed. “How good to make your acquaintance.”
Catherine’s hand found hers and gripped it tightly, pulling Eleanor out of the fog that held her captive. “We are glad to make yours, Lord Finchley,” she said, her voice a little higher-pitched.
“You will want their dance cards also, I am sure.” Lord Broadbent chuckled and shook his head. “It seems as if my acquaintance with these two fine young ladies is no longer to be just my own; I must share them with you both!”
“Do not be selfish now, Lord Broadbent,” Catherine replied, making him chuckle. “You should be glad that we are to dance with so many.”
“I am jealous that I cannot take more than one of your dances, Lady Catherine,” Lord Broadbent replied, as Eleanor fought to steady herself, seeing Lord Preston hand his brother their dance cards. “But alas, that shall have to suffice for the time being.”
“Your waltz is already taken, Lady Eleanor.” Lord Finchley’s brow furrowed as he darted a quick glance in her direction.
She lifted her chin, feeling herself trembling inwardly but without any visible sign. Why would he say such a thing?
“I – forgive me, that was a foolish remark.” Lord Finchley cleared his throat gruffly, then looked down at the dance card. “The cotillion will satisfy, yes? And the country dance, Lady Catherine? I can see that my brother has already taken your waltz.”
“He has?” Catherine sounded quite astonished as Eleanor’s heart squeezed painfully. Had Lord Finchley said such a thing because he had thought to take Catherine’s waltz instead? Why would he do such a thing as that?
“Indeed, I have.” Lord Preston smiled warmly at Catherine. “I hope that contents you?”
“It does, very much.” Catherine’s cheeks had pinked, but Eleanor felt herself grow cold.
Lord Finchley’s interaction with her had been tense and confusing, making her wonder why he was seemingly so interested in whether or not her waltz had been taken.
Why then would he mention that Catherine’s was no longer available either?
“I thank you.” He was mumbling now, not looking at her as he handed back the dance card. “If you will excuse me, I should take my leave. Good evening.”
Eleanor watched him step away, a fire setting itself in her bones.
No, she considered, she was not about to allow him to walk away without any further conversation!
The letter he had written her, the words about protecting her, and what she had seen as she had sat in the carriage all rushed to the forefront of her mind, and, leaving her cousin and Lord Preston to talk together, Eleanor moved quickly, following after Lord Finchley.
“Eleanor! Wait, I – ”
Hearing her aunt calling her did nothing to prevent Eleanor’s steps.
Following Lord Finchley, pushing her way through the crowd as her heart pounded furiously, she reached out one hand to him, only to pull it back.
As he made his way to the side of the room, to where the lights were a little dimmer, Eleanor came to a dead stop, letting the gentlemen and ladies crowd around her.
Dare she go speak with him? Her courage failed her for some moments, and, hesitating, she took a step back.
Her eyes closed.
Remember what it felt like to be in his arms, she told herself, the fire in her beginning to rise up again.
Recall all that you shared and how abruptly it ended.
Will speaking with him not bring you peace, a peace you have been searching for these many months?
Her eyes opened and, with a heart that still thudded wildly and nervousness surging all through her, Eleanor moved forward.
He turned, just as she approached. The edges of his eyes rounded, and he took a step back, hitting the wall behind him as if desperate to escape her. Eleanor bit the inside of her cheek gently as she came ever closer, gripping onto the little strength she had within her and holding it tightly.
“Finchley,” she said, her voice rasping as she held his gaze. “I must speak with you.”