Page 113 of Oddity of the Ton
“He was someone I grew attracted to,” she said. “A dream—terrifying, yet beautiful. I’ll always hold him in the highest regard. But if I cannot…” She hesitated as her chest tightened. “If I c-cannot find happiness in marriage, then I wish to find happiness in occupation.”
She drained her glass and waited. Papa remained silent for a moment, then he leaned forward and covered his face with his hands.
“My poor child,” he whispered. “Where did I go so wrong?”
Her heart tightened with sorrow. Was she such a failure in his eyes?
Then he lowered his hands and reached for her, taking both her hands in his.
“I’ve been such a fool,” he said, “guided by the ambition of others. Your mother and I always wanted the best for you and your sister—a comfortable life so that you need not toil, and respectable marriages where you’d enjoy the trappings that wealth and a title can give you.”
He stroked her hands, running the pad of his thumb across her skin. “But my unique little Eleanor was made for greater things. Fool that I was, I failed to champion your uniqueness—I was too weak to go against your mother’s wishes. After all, your mother was the daughter of an earl—she understood Society far better than I ever could.”
He lifted her hands to his lips. “Perhaps we can only reach true happiness through taking the more difficult path.” He nodded, setting his mouth into a firm line. “If independence is what you crave, Eleanor, then I’ll not stand in your way.”
“You won’t?”
“No, child. First thing Monday, I’ll speak to Mr. Stockton and have him make the arrangements to give you control over your fortune. But on one condition. Give Colonel Reid a chance on Saturday. I believe you could be as happy with him—certainly more than—” He broke off and patted her hand. “I’ll not speak ofthatparticular gentleman anymore.”
Then he released her hands and glanced at the clock. “Gracious! Is that the time? I’ve much to do—be off with you, tiresome child.”
His words belied the affection in his voice, and she rose to her feet.
“Yes, Papa,” she said. “Thank you.”
“Do not thank me, dear one,” he replied. “I’m only doing what I should have done years ago. Now—why don’t you spend the rest of the day painting?”
“What about Mother and Juliette?”
“Leave them to me. You have my word that neither of them will dictate your life anymore.”
He picked up the sheaf of papers—the marriage contract he’d agreed on with Montague—and for a moment, Eleanor’s resolve wavered. Then she bowed her head and exited the study, her future looking a little brighter than it had yesterday—when she’d parted from Montague for the last time.
Chapter Thirty-One
Like many socialoccasions, the anticipation of tonight’s dinner had been considerably more traumatic than the occasion itself.
Papa was right—rather than sneer at Eleanor for having been abandoned by her fiancé, the company viewed her with sympathy as the innocent party, and interest as a woman who had secured the attention of a duke in the first place. Even Mr. Moss addressed her with cordiality, and though she suppressed a shudder as he bowed over her hand and kissed it, his gallantry was preferable to his taunts about her clumsiness. Even when she dropped her fork, the company didn’t punish her for it—other than Mother, who shot her a look of exasperation.
And Juliette…
Eleanor’s sister seemed preoccupied. She’d hardly swallowed a morsel tonight, despite the lamb cutlets being her favorite, and seemed disinclined to touch the pineapple that Mother had gone to such pains to procure.
“Miss Howard, are you well?”
Eleanor turned to her dinner companion. “Perfectly so, thank you, colonel.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said. “Almost as glad as I was to receive your father’s invitation. What good fortune I had no prior engagements tonight.”
Juliette frowned from across the table. Then she closed her eyes as if in pain and pushed her plate aside.
“Your sister seems unwell,” Colonel Reid said. “I trust my presence hasn’t discomposed her.”
“You’re too kind,” Eleanor replied, “given that—” She broke off, her cheeks warming.
“Given that she denied my courtship? I believe she did me a favor. I could never have made her happy. Dunton will give her everything she wants. I take it they’re courting?”
“I believe so,” Eleanor said, “though I’ve yet to hear an announcement. He was invited tonight, but he’s not come.”
