Page 25 of The Lord who Captured Her Innocent Heart
“Thank you very much, Tiffany,” she whispered, turning towards the hallway. “I’ll see you soon, with more.”
It was remarkable to Ella how quickly Lord Holloway responded to her letter. The following morning, she sat at breakfast with her sister and her mother and father, sweeping a buttered knife across her toast. The butter melted into the bread, seeping into it, while Tiffany marched through, placing the various letters at their respective places. Ella hadn’t a letter. Tatiana, of course, had several from her wealth of friends, as did her mother and father. Her father gaped at Ella, almost ruefully. His face seemed heavy with the fact that his youngest daughter hadn’t the sort of network his daughter did.
“You haven’t heard from that Lord Holloway, have you?” her mother asked, arching her brow high.
Tatiana chuckled at something within one of her letters. Ella glanced towards her, praying that her sister might save her from this wretched conversation topic.
“No?” Ella said.
At the doorway, Tiffany tapped her nose with a single finger, seemingly alerting Ella. Ella’s heartbeat increased. Perhaps she had a letter awaiting her, after all.
“Don’t say it as though I’m an imbecile for believing you to have some sort of relation with him,” her mother scolded, rolling her eyes back. “It’s as though you think I have no understanding of the world, Ella.”
“I didn’t say that!” Ella cried. Again, she cast eyes towards her sister, praying for assistance.
Tatiana finally spread her letter out next to her breakfast plate. She turned attention to their mother. “Mother, Ella does everything in her own time. She always has.”
Their mother sighed, muttering to herself. She scraped her own knife across her toast and placed her teeth over the bread, taking a small, bird-sized bite. Ella had never seen their mother eat ravenously.
“Don’t blame us for wishing the best for our daughter,” their father returned, answering for her. “We only know that we wish the best for both of you. And our aspirations for two weddings in a year–”
“It’s preposterous,” Ella returned. “Let us enjoy the fruits of Tatiana’s newfound engagement. It should always be enough.”
Ella knew she’d spoken out of turn, with perhaps too much sass. She turned her eyes back to her toast. Her stomach felt heavy, unwilling to accept any food. She felt the minutes tick along till the end of breakfast, feeling as though the affair would never end.
When it finally did, she returned to her bedroom. Tatiana announced she would meet friends in Central London — asking if Ella wished to join. When Ella said she didn’t, Tatiana’s eyes grew sombre, without their normal sparkle.
“You shouldn’t listen to Mother and Father.” She sighed. “They’re doing their very best. But we both know that’s never good enough.”
“It truly never is,” Ella returned.
“I hope it won’t ruin you the rest of the day?” Tatiana tried, shifting a bit. She stood in the doorway of Ella’s room, glowing in the light that shimmered in from the window. “Perhaps you really should consider coming into Central London with me. I dare say it will take your mind off of whatever’s bothering you. Even if it is this Lord Holloway situation. I know he will communicate with you. Perhaps at the approaching garden party at Frederick’s…”
“I’ve told you already, Tatiana, I haven’t much of an opinion about Peter Holloway, one way or the other,” Ella responded. “And it certainly doesn’t muss with my opinion of the world, knowing he hasn’t contacted me. As you know, I need only my books.”
Tatiana gave her a light smirk, one that seemed to affirm that Tatiana, as the eldest, more outgoing sister, always knew best. Ella resented this for only a moment, before returning her eyes to her book. Tatiana stepped back and clipped the door closed, casting Ella back into her own world of heartache, of fear.
Wonderfully, Tiffany tapped at the door only about ten minutes later, flashing the white envelope through the crack. Ella tore it from her hands, feeling like a wild animal. She gave her a soft thank you, before rushing towards her desk, falling to the chair below, and ripping the letter open.
She was grateful that no one spotted this madness.
Lord Holloway’s handwriting matched his personality. It had a finesse to it, an artistry. It was clear that he upheld it as an art form, much as she did, and took time and care to swirl the E of her name, almost whispering to it as he did it — telling her, what?
That he cared for her?
But no, that was incorrect. He only cared for her sister. Ella was a means to that.
“Lady Chesterton,
Wonderful to receive your letter yesterday afternoon. I had spent the entirety of it latched to my pianoforte, trying to come up with a way to translate my real emotions to your sister through song. I dare say we’re running out of time, but I know you’re correct when you say we can still find the necessary conclusion in all of this. We can still fight for what we need in this life. And in this case, it’s the love we know we both deserve.
Perhaps that’s far too dramatic and romantic for your sensibilities. Perhaps I should know better.
The upcoming garden party is a valiant time for us to orchestrate what we know to be true about my dear cousin and your beautiful sister. We know them to be ill-suited. And we must draw that out via conversation, using our skills to the best of our ability.
I’m looking forward to seeing you there, in just four days’ time. You’re a brilliant partner to have, if only because you have the sort of skills I’ve always craved. Now, I’ll return my attention to the pianoforte, for I know otherwise I will just daydream the rest of the day away. And we both know how much you dislike wasted time.
Signed, Lord Holloway.”
