Page 93 of Heartbreaker of the Ton
“Welcome, sister.”
“Eleanor, please forgive—”
“Hush, Juliette,” Eleanor whispered. “Let us not pursue it. You are here, which is all that matters.”
“But what I did to you—”
“It’s forgotten.”
Etty let out a sob, and Eleanor kissed her cheek.
“Come now, sister,” she said, smiling. “It’s a day to be happy, is it not? For you’ve come home.”
“Home?”
Eleanor nodded. “Yes, Juliette. This is your home, for as long as you wish it.”
“B-but your…your husband—”
“Gives me free rein to direct the household as I see fit,” Eleanor interrupted. “Besides, he’s in London with his sister, and is therefore not here to plague us for the next few days at least. Now, where is my nephew?”
Etty turned toward the carriage. “You can come out, now, Frances.”
The girl stepped out, Gabriel in her arms, and approached. Eleanor extended her hand, and Frances stared at it.
“Welcome, Frances,” Eleanor said. “And this must be my nephew!”
Gabriel turned away and buried his head in Frances’s shoulder, and Eleanor withdrew her hand.
“Forgive him, Your Grace,” Frances said. “He’s shy of strangers.”
A stricken look crossed Frances’s expression as Eleanor’s smile slipped.
“I understand,” she said quietly. “I am not fond of strangers myself.”
Frances blushed. “He’s friendly enough when he gets to know you, Your Grace.”
Eleanor nodded. “My nephew is a fortunate young man to have such a champion in yourself, Frances.”
Gabriel stirred in Frances’s arms and turned to face Eleanor, a serious expression in his dark eyes.
“I hope we’ll become well acquainted, young sir,” she said. “Do you like gardens?”
The boy nodded.
“We have a lovely garden, just right for a young man to explore and to have all sorts of adventures in. And how about cake? I’ve never known a boy who does not like cake, especially fruitcake.”
A broad grin spread across his face.
“He loves fruitcake,” Etty said. “Frances here makes an excellent fruitcake.”
“You must all have a slice at tea,” Eleanor said. “Then perhaps, young man, you can tell me whether it’s as good as that which you’re used to.”
The boy grinned and reached out toward Eleanor. She took the boy’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, little man,” she said. “I’m your Aunt Eleanor.”
“Ant,” the boy said. “Ant. Ell.”
Eleanor let out a soft laugh. “Ant Ell it is, then!” She turned to Etty. “I should have invited you and Gabriel earlier. I never wanted us to be strangers. Please forgive me.”
