Chapter Twenty-Two
Eden found himself grateful that Elinor was here. Tha?s was happier with her company. He wished he had thought more about Tha?s’s happiness before bringing her here. He should have known she’d get lonely. She was accustomed to a life of revelry, parties, entertainment, and charity work. He was the worst possible companion for her. It was amazing that they got along at all, considering their opposite dispositions. Eden liked revelry about as much as he liked headaches. Less, as at least headaches gave one an excuse to be quiet and alone.
At five he emerged from his study to begin preparing supper and found the ladies in the parlor, working on Tha?s’s correspondence.
“You’ve made progress,” he observed, seeing the tall stack of letters that had replaced the messy pile of brochures.
“Elinor’s a better secretary than you are,” Tha?s said.
“I’m sure she is. But does she match me in taste for candlesticks and china?”
He had come to enjoy teasing Tha?s about her selections to purchase, debating such things as whether oak or cherry were best for dining chairs and what type of cutlery best suited a dining hall for one hundred.
“Elinor has a better eye than you do, but I doubt she’s as good at cookery.”
“I am not good at cookery at all,” Elinor said. “But I would love to watch the chef de cuisine prepare our meal.”
They followed him to the kitchen and sat at the table drinking wine while he prepared a chicken to roast.
“He is astonishing,” Elinor commented to Tha?s as he made a fragrant sauce with onions, butter, herbs, and wine.
He wanted to make them something indulgent and delicious. He knew Elinor was having a terrible year. He’d do what little he could to give her a bit of pleasure.
“I can hear you, you know,” he said.
“Forgive me for marveling. But an earl preparing a meal? You must know this is a remarkable occurrence.”
“Once in a lifetime, I reckon,” Tha?s said. “We should charge admission. Make a bloody fortune.”
“Tha?s isn’t a bad cook,” he said. “Did you know she can make a sponge cake light as air?”
“I did not,” Elinor said. “I’m surprised to learn she enjoys baking.”
“I don’t,” Tha?s said.
“Oh, she does,” he assured Elinor. “She’s especially fond of beating the eggs.”
Tha?s snorted. “This man tortured me with stirring for two hours. Thought my wrists would break clean off my arms. And that would rightly—”
“Destroy your livelihood?” Eden asked blandly.
“Now you’re stealing my lines too?”
“You’ll have to think of cleverer ones.”
“I’m plenty clever. Is that ready?” She pointed at the steaming food. “I’m starving to death.”
“It is,” he said. “It seems you will live to see another day. It’s lovely outside. Shall we dine on the terrace?”
They took plates of food outside and lingered there, enjoying the mild evening. Elinor’s presence made him feel more assured. He might not know how to be a lover, but he knew how to be an excellent host.
“It’s good to see you, Elinor,” he said. “Though, I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“If I see my daughter tomorrow, the circumstances will be fine, indeed.”
“How long has it been?”
“Nearly two years.”
Awful. He couldn’t imagine if Anna had been taken away from him when she was growing up, let alone for so long.
“Unconscionable,” he said, “depriving children of their mother.”
“My estranged husband is not known for his commitment to compassion. Nor ethics.”
“Dare I ask about the divorce?” he said. He knew that it was looming over everything in Elinor’s life. She stood to lose anything Bell had not yet managed to take away—any hope of seeing her children until they came of age, any money she’d brought to the marriage, and even the right to marry again, which he suspected she’d have liked to do, given her obvious love for Jack Willow. He knew she would get through it—she seemed as strong as iron—but she’d already been through so much. She deserved happiness, family, and peace.
“Bell’s petition will be heard in the first few weeks of Parliament, I’m told,” she said. “And we have every reason to believe it will pass. Which is why I am so desperate to find the children now, so I can see them before I’m not allowed to as a provision of the law.”
“At least you’ll be rid of the bastard,” Tha?s said. “Small mercies.”
“And he’ll be rid of me,” Elinor said. “Do you know he has already begun planning to court a new wife? I’m told by Sylvia Coulter he has his eye on a very young woman—Miss Emily Clark. The ward of some old gentleman—I can’t recall his name.”
Tha?s whistled. “Pity the poor girl who gets tossed off to the likes of him.”
Pity, indeed. Eden wondered if Bell was courting any of the ladies in his dossiers. The idea disgusted him. He’d marry a girl just to spare her a lifetime with that bastard.
“Let’s speak of something more pleasant,” Elinor said.
“I’ll leave you two to catch up,” Eden said, rising. He wanted to give them privacy, since their time together was limited.
He took their plates inside and began to clean the kitchen. Their voices floated through the open windows as they spoke about their friends. He didn’t want to eavesdrop, but it was impossible not to hear as he scrubbed the pots and pans.
And then he caught his name.
“Eden’s very gracious,” Elinor said. “And more relaxed than he seemed when we were all together at Gardencourt last year. It’s nice how comfortable the two of you are together.”
But were they comfortable? They enjoyed each other’s company during the day, but he felt so nervous around her when it came time for his lessons that sometimes it made him lightheaded.
“We’re just like man and wife,” Tha?s quipped.
That would be the day. He doubted he’d ever be so unnerved around another woman. Well-bred young ladies would not dare to display such verve, and he doubted any of the girls he’d read about would possess Tha?s’s confidence and enthusiasm for lovemaking.
“Man and wife, eh?” Elinor said. “How sad I wasn’t invited to your wedding.”
“My wedding, ha! That’ll be the same day I finally learn my Latin.”
“Why do you say that?” Elinor asked.
Tha?s snorted. “Who would marry me? No secret I’m a harlot. Not many gents clamoring for my hand.”
She said this lightly, but he wondered if he detected a note of sadness in her tone. If so, it was a pity. He could imagine her warm, funny energy at the center of a home. She would certainly not be a tranquil helpmeet, but she’d be the soul of the family.
“You have the biggest heart, Tha?s,” Elinor said.
“No. That’s just my bosom.”
“Don’t make a joke. Marriage isn’t necessary for love to take hold—look at Sera. Look at me and Jack. You deserve someone to cherish you.”
Eden nodded to himself.
She did.
She truly did.