Page 33 of Scandal of the Season

“That’s not what I meant.” She sighed. “I made a promise to Caroline and I won’t break it.” She then relayed the conversation she’d had with her friend the evening prior. “She vowed to behave herself, and I vowed I would help her find a suitable husband.”

Rowena fixed her with a piercing gaze. “Do you honestly believe her to be sincere?”

“I do. She knows this is her last chance.” Eleanor looked to her pleadingly. “I realize it will make things a bit difficult—”

“A bit?” Rowena’s eyes were wide with incredulity.

“But there are ways around it,” Eleanor hurried on, determined. “There is no rule demanding that we all must be in the same place at the same time. Under the circumstances, I don’t believe Lord Marston will be offended by an occasional exclusion. When you do wish him to attend an event, Sorin can escort Caroline and me to another function somewhere else.” Please. Please. Please!

Rowena took an agonizingly long time to answer. “Very well,” she said at last. “I won’t write to her parents unless things begin to degrade—and they had better not,” she warned with a glare. “We will do our best to see her married quickly and without any scandal. God help us.”

Elated, Eleanor opened her mouth to thank her.

But Rowena was not finished. “Understand that this in no way alters our plans for finding you a husband. Caroline’s must not be the only wedding this autumn. As such, you will put forth the expected effort to that end once we reach London.” Her face softened. “You cannot stay here fore

ver, my dear,” she said, reaching out to touch her cheek. “It would not be right. You need to build a life for yourself, have a family of your own. Your parents would want you to live fully and you cannot do so if you remain with us.”

Eleanor’s already heavy heart plummeted straight to her toes. So, he had been telling the truth. It wasn’t that she’d doubted him—he’d never lied to her—but she’d rather hoped he’d been exaggerating things. “I understand,” she murmured, numb.

The last vestiges of hardness melted from Rowena’s face. “It’s for your own good, my dear. I wish you would trust Charles and me. We just want you to be happy.”

Eleanor wanted to scream that she was already happy, but the truth was that her sense of contentment had inexplicably begun to diminish. A strange sort of restlessness had overtaken her. Change was coming. It was inevitable.

She shook herself. Now was definitely not the time for melancholy rumination. Right now she had to appease the powers that be. “I know. Thank you for caring about me so much.” She meant it. Her guardians’ intentions were good, if misguided. “I cannot promise you that I will find an acceptable gentleman, but I’ll try to be more open-minded.”

It was enough. Satisfied, Rowena dismissed her.

The following days were filled with the business of preparing for their journey to London. Caroline remained unusually quiet throughout the controlled chaos, but Eleanor didn’t worry overmuch. London would soon cure her of her brooding. Besides, she had enough to think about concerning her own dilemma. Each restless night brought her closer to Thursday and leaving Holbrook.

“It’s been over a quarter of an hour since you last turned a page in that book,” commented Rowena quietly as she ticked off items on the long list in her hand. It was the morning before their departure.

Eleanor looked up and blinked. “I guess I was woolgathering.”

Rowena shot her a piercing glance. “You’re not the only one to be acting queerly of late. Caroline has been far too quiet for my peace of mind. Is all well between you?”

“Quite. I was just thinking how much I shall miss this place,” she said, looking around the room.

“You can always come and visit, my dear,” said Rowena, frowning down at her list and crossing out a line. “In fact, I shall be quite upset if you don’t make it a point to do so frequently, for I will greatly miss your company.”

It took every bit of self-control for Eleanor to keep from showing her upset. She’d meant that she’d miss Holbrook while they were away in London, not forever! She hadn’t yet given up all hope of remaining here. “Thank you,” she replied past the sudden tightness in her throat. “Holbrook has been my home for so many years that I have great difficulty imagining myself anywhere else.”

“I missed my home when I married Charles. But I soon grew to like it here, and I’m sure you’ll come to love your new home as well.” The corners of her mouth lifted in a gentle smile. “Especially once you and your husband begin filling it with children.”

My husband? As if there was any man on earth I’d be willing to marry!

Unbidden, an image of Sorin flashed in Eleanor’s mind. Shock suffused her, followed closely by utter confusion. Why in heaven’s name did I think of him? Sorin was the stiffest, sternest, most proper gentleman in all of England—possibly the entire world. He’d scold and correct her at every turn, just as he’d always done, and though she was quite fond of him, she would eventually resent him for it. They’d make a terrible couple!

The ridiculousness of the whole idea almost made her laugh aloud. It was ludicrous! Even if she were to consider him for a husband, he would never agree to it. In his mind, I’m still a child.

But that thought harkened back to Rowena’s last comment concerning children. Longing seized her heart in an iron grip. She couldn’t deny that she wanted children. But freedom and children were mutually exclusive. If she wanted the latter, she would have to give up the former.

The thought of filling Holly Hall with Sorin’s children, particularly of the act that precipitated such events, brought instant, scorching heat to her face and an uncomfortable tension throughout her whole body. She looked up to see Rowena staring at her. “Yes, I—I suppose I shall.” She ducked her head over her book once more, ignoring Rowena’s soft chuckle. But throughout the rest of the day, her thoughts kept wandering back to the idea. It was a source of both frustration and bewilderment that she could not put it out of her mind. That night as she lay abed, unable to find peace or slumber, she determined to settle the futile argument with herself once and for all. Sorin would never consider her for a wife—and despite her high regard for him, she’d never be happy with so overbearing a husband.

There! Satisfied, Eleanor closed her eyes and kept them shut, until at last sleep took her.

Thursday morning arrived, and with it complete turmoil. Maids and footmen rushed to and fro making final preparations for their employers’ departure. Traveling trunks were trundled off to the carriages and the servants’ wagons for loading. An early breakfast was bolted down. Finally, Sorin and his mother arrived followed closely by the Yarboroughs, and then it was time.

“Do you not think him completely handsome?” whispered Caroline as they walked to the carriage.

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