Page 138 of Oddity of the Ton
He leaped to his feet and took her hands. “Oh, Eleanor! You think I’d judge you merely for loving another? It breaks my heart to hear that you believe yourself unlovable, and undesirable, when you are quite the opposite. But what do mean,all the others?”
She drew in a deep breath to steady herself, but the despair threatened to overwhelm her. “M-my sister showed them to the guests during a dinner party.”
“Shewhat?” he cried, tightening his grip. “Was she mistaken?”
“I’m afraid it was intentional—though I fear she wasn’t in possession of her wits.”
He set his mouth into a firm line. “She must have known what she was doing.”
“Perhaps.” Eleanor sighed. “But I fear she didn’t fully understand the consequences.”
“Even the dullest wit would know that such a revelation would ruin you—and most likely ruin your family also. I cannot comprehend that a woman would do that to her own sister! Does she hate youthatmuch?”
Eleanor opened her mouth to deny it, then hesitated. Perhaps Juliette did hate her—a hatred born of a failure to understand her difference. She’d been unable to disguise her resentment of Eleanor’s betrothal to Montague—or her glee when it ended.
“Many things give rise to hatred, Mr. Staines,” she said. “I’d ask you not to judge Juliette too harshly. I believe she suffers—and perhaps she acted because she hoped it would end her suffering. Did you not say in one of your sermons that those who commit acts of evil are merely trying to restore a perceived imbalance in the world? That it’s human nature to resent thehappiness of another and to destroy it if they can—even if it leads to one’s own destruction?”
“That doesn’t mean acts of evil should go unpunished when they lead to the suffering of others. Your sister ought to be horsewhipped.”
Eleanor flinched at the anger in his voice. “Is that how you treat someone who commits a transgression?”
“That was more than a transgression, Eleanor. It was a deliberate act to destroy another. Why in the name of the Almighty would she do such a thing?”
“I’ve asked myself that question every day since I came here,” she replied. “I can only think she did it because she failed in her own pursuit of a man.”
“There it is,” he said. “The folly of an unmarried woman desperate to do anything to snare a title. My elder brother has experienced such a woman—ruthless, immoral, and willing to destroy any female rival in her quest to ensnare a man so that she might plague him for the rest of his days.”
“Do you have such a low opinion of my sex?”
“I do of women like your sister, who think nothing of destroying the lives of others for their own gratification.” He shook his head. “Forgive me—before I was ordained, I experienced much of the desperate debutante. I can understand why you left London Society. It’s somewhere I have no intention of setting foot in. I pity my poor brother, who, as the heir, is obliged to submit to the Marriage Mart. I pray he never encounters your sister.”
Eleanor shrank back from the force of his anger, which was almost tangible.
Then he sighed. “It’s to your credit that you defend your sister, but I’ll never understand why a woman would treat another so cruelly. To have driven you from your home—she must have known what she was doing.”
“What does it matter?” Eleanor said. “I’m here now, living my own life—somewhere quiet where I can do what I love.”
“Paint?” he suggested, his expression softening.
“Not just that—but live on my own terms, not being dictated to.”
“By a husband.”
She nodded. “When a woman marries, she surrenders her freedom to her husband.”
“Notallhusbands.”
“Almost all,” she said. “So, Juliette didn’t really do me any harm.”
“But what about the man you…” He made a vague gesture in the air, his cheeks reddening. “Didn’t he come to your defense? After all—he was the subject of your drawings.”
“He doesn’t know,” she said, “and I won’t tell him.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want him feeling as if he needs to act out of obligation.”
His chest rose and fell in a sigh. “Ah,” he said. “There it is.”
