Page 119 of Oddity of the Ton
“You did?”
“The morning we left Rosecombe, when you said your goodbyes, the two of you seemed…” He hesitated. “The only word I can think of isunited. I noticed it again in Hyde Park. But then—when your engagement ended—I thought perhaps I was mistaken.” He lifted his hand to his forehead and narrowed his eyes, as if battling a headache.
“Are you very angry, Papa?” Eleanor asked.
“What would be the sense in anger? Besides—I leave that sort of thing to your mother.”
“Sweet Lord—Mother!” she cried. “And the guests! What will they—”
He raised his hand. “I’ve taken care of it. The guests have gone, and we’ll be hearing no more about it.”
“You can’t be sure of that, Papa—you know how people love to gossip. Lady Fairchild—”
“Lady Fairchild has her own secrets, which I’ll wager she’ll do anything to retain, given her friendship with Lady Jersey.” He gave a wry smile. “For once, I see the benefit in women obsessing over their ability to procure a ticket at Almack’s.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Suffice it to say, Eleanor dearest, both Lady Fairchild and Mr. Moss value their reputations more than they value the satisfaction of spreading gossip. And what can they spread? That they were shown a series of anatomical drawings? There are plenty to be viewed at the Academy Exhibition, where the artists are lauded for their skill rather than vilified.”
“You mean you resorted to…”
“Blackmail is an ugly word, Eleanor, and should never pass your lips. I merely suggested that our guests look to their own proven sins before casting aspersions about the alleged sins of others.”
“And M-Mother?”
“She’s taken to her bed with a fit of nerves,” he said. “Doubtless she’ll recover, as will your sister. But as to you, Eleanor…” He glanced at the pile of clothes on the bed. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m leaving.”
“You can’t leave—what will people think?”
“You can’t believe I care what people think!” she cried. “You said yourself, the other day, that you’d let me go—you’d find ahouse for me. Or was that a ruse to get me to attend the party tonight to secure Colonel Reid’s attention?”
Then her gut twisted with horror.
“No, Papa—you’re not going to force me to marryColonel Reid?”
He shook his head. “Certainly not. He’s disappointed me tonight.”
“More than I?”
He drew her into an embrace, and she inhaled the comforting, familiar scent of cinnamon and cigars.
“You could never disappoint me, Eleanor,” he said. “And you needn’t worry—Colonel Reid won’t say a thing. I think he regrets his words. He asked me to apologize to you on his behalf. He even asked if he could call on you tomorrow.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he raised his hand. “It’s all right—I refused.”
“I don’t want to see him,” she said. “I don’t want to see anyone, Papa. I just want to go.”
“Eleanor, you don’t run from your troubles.”
“I’m not running! You said I could go—youpromised!”
He let out a sigh. “That I did, my dear one—and the last thing I want is to be yet another person who has betrayed your trust.” He released her and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. “Very well—if that’s what you truly wish for, I’ll visit Stockton in the morning to make the arrangements.”
“On a Sunday?”
“As soon as we return from church—for which you may be excused. I think it’s best if you remain in your chamber until I’ve made the arrangements. I’m sure the Almighty will understand.” He glanced toward Eleanor’s maid. “Will you take care of my daughter, Harriet?”
“Oh yes, sir—I’ve already said I’ll go with her.”
