Page 81 of Fortune Favors the Frivolous
But it was Lady Pendleton who interjected. “Such an undertaking would be quite improper without—”
“A chaperone? I have thought of that,” Thornton assured her. “My sister-in-law has expressed interest in the journey and would be delighted to accompany us. You remember Catherine, I believe?”
Catherine. The cousin of Elizabeth, the woman who had married Thornton while Eugenia nursed her secret love in silence. Never having married, she was to chaperone them onan adventure that promised everything Eugenia had ever longed for?
But no doubt Catherine would be a constant reminder of Thornton’s late wife, for Catherine and Elizabeth had grown up in the same household as sisters rather than cousins.
“I remember her well,” Eugenia managed, her composure strained but intact.
Lady Pendleton leaned back. “Well, Eugenia? Will you accept this most unusual settlement? I’m not sure you would do well in rough swells. Are you not prone to being seasick?”
“Why should you think that when I’ve never been seasick in my life?” Eugenia challenged, looking down at the itinerary again, her heart racing at the possibilities it presented. Then she raised her eyes to meet Thornton’s, seeing in them not merely the offer of an adventure, but something deeper—a second chance at what might have been.
And something unfurled within her—a hope she had long ago buried beneath layers of pragmatism and independence. She had built a life for herself, a good life filled with intellectual pursuits and the freedom to follow her own path. But how much richer might that life be with a companion who valued that independence rather than seeking to curtail it?
“What say you, Eugenia?” Thornton pressed gently. “Will you accept my terms?”
Lady Pendleton fidgeted impatiently. “For heaven’s sake, Eugenia, you never could make up your mind.”
Eugenia laughed, the tension of the moment broken by her friend’s characteristic bluntness. “Oh, I think I have at least improved since my own experience of floating above London helped me see life through a different lens. And to realize that life is too short not to seize it with both hands.”
Eugenia thought of Venetia, now mistress of her own destiny, free to chart her course just as Eugenia herself had done. Shethought of Mr. Rothbury, withdrawing from society rather than risk being seen as pursuing Venetia’s fortune, despite having saved her from a terrible fate.
Perhaps, she mused, they too needed someone to show them that love and independence need not be mutually exclusive—that the greatest adventure of all might be finding someone who cherished both one’s strengthandvulnerability.
“My lord,” she said finally, extending her hand to Thornton, “I accept your terms. Though I warn you, I intend to sketch every ruin and marvel we encounter, no matter how long it delays our progress.”
“Bravo!” Thornton’s face lit with delight as he took her hand, pressing it warmly between both of his. “I would expect nothing less, my dear Eugenia. Nothing less.”
Lady Pendleton sighed dramatically. “She will drive you mad, Thornton,” she predicted. “Why, sketch every ruin when a quick glance would be good enough for me.” With a harrumph, she added, “Anyway, I think the matter of your next matchmaking project is settled, Eugenia. When you return to England, Miss Playford and Mr. Rothbury will require someone with your particular talents to overcome their current impasse.”
“Indeed,” Eugenia agreed, her mind already spinning with possibilities as she gazed at Thornton. “Though perhaps I shall pursue my matchmaking from a gondola in Venice rather than a drawing room in London.”
“A novel approach,” Thornton agreed, seeming to realize suddenly that he was still holding her hand. He dropped it quickly, adding, “But then, you have always taken a novel approach towards life, Eugenia, which augurs well when it comes to being a travel companion.”
Eugenia felt her heart soar like a balloon cut free from its tethers, rising towards limitless skies. Yes, she thought, she would help Venetia find her way to happiness with Mr.Rothbury. But first, she would embrace her own adventure—one that had been thirty years in the making.
Thornton had not proposed. He’d been careful to ensure the proprieties and to couch his suggestion in terms that preserved the friendship between them rather than hinting too greatly at romantic overtures.
But the possibilities were there, she thought, her heart missing a beat.
“To Venice, then,” she said, raising her teacup in a toast.
“To Venice,” Thornton echoed, and Eugenia couldn’t be sure, but she did wonder if the expression in his eyes promised more than merely a journey across the sea.
Outside, spring sunlight danced across the garden, illuminating the roses in a warm, golden glow. Just as the balloon had lifted Caroline and Henry towards their future together, so too would a ship soon carry Eugenia and Thornton towards theirs.
And somewhere in Bedfordshire, a newly minted heiress was discovering the freedom that comes with independence, even as she perhaps wondered about the gentleman who had championed her cause and then disappeared from view.
THE END
