Chapter Fifteen #3
Eleanor kept her eyes fixed on the beautiful dark lord, with a smile that promised vengeance, and merely dipped into a smooth curtsey.
“Fifty crowns on the girl.” From across the room, a man’s voice shouted, setting off the bidding that resonated throughout the court.
Eleanor bit her tongue at the patronising arsehole.
She’d stopped being a girl decades before the lord’s mother conceived him.
It stoked her ire. She was a girl , not because she was a courtesan, but because she was a woman.
Someone who was seemingly weaker, smaller, fragile.
It was another way to diminish their capabilities and power in this world.
She blocked out the amounts that the lords were betting and exchanging amongst themselves while she stood there, seething.
Most of the bets were against her, but she’d known that’d happen. From the sounds and calls ringing around the room, it was a substantial amount. A sum of crowns unlike any she had seen before, sufficient to clear a debt, yet she was aware she wouldn’t receive a sterling of it.
When the bidding had stopped, she took it as her cue to perform for these arrogant arseholes.
Eleanor took a fortifying drink of her wine before she walked up to the Dark Star. His charcoal eyes momentarily lightened, and she could have mistaken the expression for amusement. But anger flared in her veins. This was pure entertainment for everyone, that was meant to embarrass a courtesan.
“Hold my wine, my lord, ” Eleanor said, her voice pitching lower than usual.
She infused his title with as much disdain as she could get away with without sounding too disrespectful. She all but shoved the glass at him as she turned on her heel, leaving him no room but to grab it in surprise, lest it shatter onto the marble floor.
Her heartbeat was pounding in time with her long, confident strides, the only sound resounding throughout the room. She would show them, in their silk-wrapped world, that they weren’t the only ones who had hidden talents.
As she settled onto the piano stool, Eleanor sat in a way that meant her red dress draped so the slits revealed every toned inch of her peachy freckled legs. She was letting herself be the spectacle they thought she’d be.
As she rested her feet on the pedals, she blocked out the deathly quiet of the room, everyone holding their collective breaths. Verena and most of the court ladies were already triumphantly smiling.
Eleanor took a deep breath and blocked them all out. She made herself forget everyone and everything around her, including him . Placing her fingers over the keys, she enjoyed the collective inhale as the room was poised in their smug silence.
She started a quick pulse of bass notes, followed by a hard-dramatic thrum of treble notes.
In the span of a startlingly key change, she was soft, light, and graceful, then hard, dark, and dramatic.
This sudden, rapid pattern continued for a few bars and then she paused.
Letting herself recognise the silence in the room before she let herself loose over the keys.
She’d purposefully chosen this piece of music, which began with a rapid succession of tempo notes, a soft, calm middle section with a quietly ambiguous and whimsical quality, then repeated the rapid, furious notes over and over, creating a dramatic and intense scene.
Then she reached her favourite part of the piece.
Her fingers cascaded over the keys, reaching the lowest notes while maintaining a quick, light pulse in her other hand.
She ran through the bass notes to finish the movement in the same tempo of heavy pulses that started the composition. It was a tense and dramatic end.
Eleanor took a few moments to collect herself while the room stayed silent, recognising she’d finished. Then the room erupted into applause, accompanied by a few cheerful whoops from courtiers who had taken a gamble and bet on her.
She’d relished those moments playing, where she’d all but forgotten where she was, until Eleanor looked up and met the lord’s dark eyes. From this distance, she couldn’t see his expression, but she caught the imperceivable inclination of his head, and she couldn’t be sure if his lip curled.
When the last of the clapping subsided, Eleanor located the young woman who had been playing earlier among the courtiers and gestured to offer her the piano.
Her cheeks pinkened to match her dress and immediately shook her head, thinking it was some court joke at her expense.
Eleanor gave her a warm, reassuring smile and, with some encouragement from the young lords around her, the young woman resumed playing the piano.
The room’s atmosphere felt lighter and more joyful.
Eleanor’s initial impulse was to return to hiding behind the column, but the lord, with dark eyes and a face that revealed nothing, offered her a full sparkling wineglass.
“Well played, darling, ” he drawled in that deep voice that resonated within her when she knew it shouldn’t.
“Prick,” she muttered as she took the fresh glass from him and strode away, hoping he heard her over the piano playing.
Eleanor had knocked back the glass the Dark Star had given her and she’d drained many others since. Now she was smiling at the young lords, Riccie and Philip, seated next to her, who’d been keeping her company since her piano performance. They were marvellous company.
She hiccupped as she sadly wondered why she hadn’t talked to these lords before?
They were great fun and they kept telling her fondly about their estates.
Eleanor had sworn Riccie had a slight sheen to his eyes as he’d described his estate to her.
She’d had to concentrate on his descriptions, as it’d got confusing at one point, something about it being small but big.
She didn’t know, but she’d smiled and made a vague comment about it being lovely in the warmer weather and leaned against Riccie to offer him some comfort.
Eleanor didn’t know if it was nicer in the warmer weather, but she couldn’t ask where their lands were in case they were well known, and it’d give her away.
Their neckties were as frilly as usual, and Philip’s embroidered necktie matched his green silk long-coat and waistcoat.
She couldn’t help but twirl his beautifully fancy necktie between her fingers, making Philip’s smile widen as she got closer to him.
Keeping Riccie and Philip company, while they waited for Alden and Leander to return with a promised tray of wine, was wonderfully fun.
Eleanor tried not to get distracted by their shiny jewelled clothes in rich, beautiful silk tones, that flashed with flecks of gold and silver. She had reached out more than once to feel the soft, satiny texture of their long-coats. They were as soft she’d imagined.
Riccie’s warm body pressed against her as a nearby soft giggle made her turn her head.
She frowned at the noise, as her companions didn’t sound like they’d produce such a high-pitched giggle.
Whoever it was must have moved away as quickly as they’d appeared.
Although a small sober part of her recognised there were no other women nearby, so the owner of the giggle had to be her, her muddled thoughts didn’t think that was possible. She didn’t giggle.
Eleanor brought her focus back to the lords around her and startled upon seeing the beautifully dark lord had joined their group.
The Dark Star.
Eleanor avoided looking at him, directing her attention to the young lords, whom she had grown close to. That is, until something bright flashed, that caught her eye and made her look in his direction, only to find his hand extended towards her.
“I’m good here, my lord ,” Eleanor said, narrowing her eyes. There were lots of shiny pretty rings adorning his long fingers.
He shook his head slightly, seeming disappointed. How dare he be disappointed? She’d not done anything, especially not to him.
Before Eleanor could respond, her new friends rose from their comfy sofa with a bit too much haste and left her alone with him.
Chickenshits.
Although, she’d missed the entire conversation between her friends and this lord.
Now, she had no choice but to look at the delicious, impeccably dressed man before her.
Being this close to him, she noticed that his long-coat and matching waistcoat were not black but actually red.
A red so deep it could be mistaken for black, a shade exclusive to the ripe seeds nestled within a pomegranate core.
His long dark hair pulled forward as he leaned down, coming closer to her than she thought he ever would, and hissed out. “It was not a request.”
Taken aback by the unexpected savage tone, Eleanor blinked, surprised by how jarring it was against his beauty. Before she could form an angry response, his cool hand wrapped around her arm and dragged her to her feet.
“Get your hands off me,” she tried to hiss back but ended up mumbling her words to him.
The whirling room forced her to lean to the side, trying to halt its spin. That should have been her first indication that she was drunk.
His grip on her tightened as he pulled her along the edge of the room. Eleanor went to raise her fingers to trail them along the writhing gold vines creeping along the white walls, but she was pulled through a door that she hadn’t realised was there.