Page 5 of Once upon a Summer Night

Eleanor wasn’t a prude. But she really, really didn’t have any wish to know about her aunt’s bedroom adventures (or lack thereof).

“Now, about this matchmaking service that claims Irish roots. Mrs. MacWilliam—an American who married an Irishman, smart woman—is their publicist, and she claims that the income restrictions are in place to protect those who have money from gold diggers. I’m not sure I agree. But I did ask her to prove that she can match someone without monetary interest or gain. Eleanor, it’s time to let go of the past. It really is, darling.”

Swallowing the enormous lump of dread in her throat, Ellie shook her head. “Winnie, I told you. I’m perfectly happy being alone.”

Winnie continued as if she didn’t hear Ellie’s words. “While I was speaking with Mrs. MacWilliam, I naturally thought of you. Isn’t it perfect? If they fail to find you a suitable husband, then I’m proven right. If they succeed, then you win. There’s no losing here, darling! Please, give it a try. If for no other reason that my readers are so hoping for a case study. And you would be perfect. Of course, I understand if you don’t wish to help. Well…I wouldn’t understand, per se, but I’d try, dear, and that’s why you love me so, is it not?”

Ellie pursed her lips. “I know what you’re doing.”

Winnie attempted to look affronted. “I’m trying to ensure you’re happy for the rest of your days.”

“I hate dating. You know I do.” Ellie closed her eyes.

“Not all men are like Andrew,” Winnie added softly.

No,Ellie silently agreed with her.But I’m still me.Which was exactly why all of the dates she’d gone on in the last eight years had been unmitigated disasters. Aside from the fact that she hadn’t felt even a spark of chemistry with anyone since Andrew, she had yet to meet a man who was asintelligent as he was good looking. In her experience, you could have one but not the other…and, if she was being honest with herself, dating was a lot of work. Makeup, clothing choices, dinner selections, movie preferences. It was all for naught, too, as when the evening was over, she still went home alone.

“He treated you horribly,” Winnie went on, and Ellie groaned.

“Must we rehash this?” she replied wearily.

“Yes,” Winnie declared, then softened her tone. “Eleanor, we both agree that he should have been there.”

“Instead of at some palace event with a blonde on his arm?” Ellie asked, though the malice she used to feel was long gone. In its place sat a hollowness that she doubted would ever be filled. Not for the man—he wasn’t worth more than a passing thought—but for the girlhood dreams she had built around him. She’d come to terms with it years ago and now her perfectly crafted fairytale world included her, her aunt, a city content to ignore her, and her bookstore.

She was comfortable with that.

“Society can be harsh,” Winnie agreed. “But truly, my love, not all men treat women like that. Rationally, you know it to be true. And I want to see you happy. You are still young, only twenty-eight. You have so much to offer a man of quality, and we both know you’ll make a spectacular mother.”

Ellie’s gut clenched. Eight years her senior and son of the modern-day Earl of Dorset, Andrew Beaufort, Britain’s most eligible peer, had no reason to look twice at the niece of a gossip columnist. He was introduced to her by way of her aunt at a gala event in London’s West End, and Andrew danced attendance on Ellie for the entire night. The next day, the papers were buzzing with speculation, and despite her aunt’s warnings, Ellie was caught up in the whirlwind. When Andrew called her two days after the event, she floated on acloud. Their first date included a helicopter ride to Scotland, dinner at Edinburgh Castle, and dancing at Edinburgh’s hottest nightclub. And almost every day for a month, Andrew took her on amazing, wild dates, jetting all over the continent—a bullfight in Spain, beer tasting in Germany, skiing in Switzerland. But suddenly, the dates stopped. He became too busy for her calls; he’d answer, but a quick excuse later and he was off the phone. Until the last phone call, when, before he had time to utter anything, Ellie blurted out her news, then burst into tears.

Andrew reacted to her pregnancy with disbelief, then disgust. He claimed she was trying to trap him into marriage, and, as naïve as she’d been at eighteen, she believed they were headed in that direction. He threatened a paternity test if she carried the baby to term, then informed her flat out that she would never be allowed to raise the baby. She was, after all, a commoner…and a baby of his would not be brought up as such.

Her gut still twisted when she thought about it, and she knew—knew—the stress of his threat was what had led to her miscarriage.

She pulled herself back to the present and, seeing her aunt’s hopeful expression, sighed heavily. “Whatever your motivation for getting me on another date, you must admit to being a master at twisting words, Winnie. You’re more Irish than you let on.”

“Oh, pfft. I have never denied my Irish side. I embrace it whenever necessary to get what I want.” Winnie leaned close. “So you’ll do it?”

Ellie handed the handkerchief back to Winnie. “What if I say no?”

Winnie waved her hand around. “Would you believe I’d cut you out of my will?”

“No.”

“You’d be right. Of course you can say no, dearest.”Winnie turned on the taxi seat and clasped Ellie’s hands in her own. “But there is nothing in this world I’d like more than to see you happy. And before you start in on your I-don’t-need-a-man-to-be-happy speech, let me just say that I’ve had both kinds of men. I tried the strong, passionate type who will move mountains to get to you, but not lift a finger to keep you. He was fun for a while, but that flame was doused just as swiftly as it ignited. Then, I had my steady love. There was comfort there. Peace of mind, joy in the little things, and companionship. We were not blessed with children, but it mattered not to me because I eventually was given you. You deserve the best of both. A perfect-for-you man.” Her eyes looked suspiciously shiny. “Eleanor, I’m not getting younger. I want to see you with that same happiness I had with Ernie, and that same passion I had earlier in my life. When I’m gone, you’ll have none but the customers who enter your shop. I want more for you, love. More than what the dusty pages of a book can offer you.”

Ellie’s mouth hung open. Though her aunt didn’t know it, shehadbeen contemplating a change. Maybe a quiet man, one she could be comfortable with. Not fall in love with—she didn’t want to ever suffer a broken heart again—but one with whom she could pass the time, or read funny stories from the papers to over breakfast. Maybe snuggle on the couch while watching a movie.

She could admit to being a bit lonely in her flat every night.

With effort, she managed a nod.

“You’ll try? For me?”

She huffed out a bewildered, shaky, frightened laugh. “How can I say no now?”

Winnie clapped her hands. “Oh, Eleanor, how exciting. A word of advice, though.” She glanced at the taxi driver, who was absorbed in whatever music played in his earbuds. “Go for the perfect man. In for a penny, in for a pound, yes?”

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