The Marquess's Stolen Vow: A Regency Romance, page 6
“Good evening, Lady Eleanor.”
She half turned as a voice came from her left. For a moment, her heart quickened as she saw the light brown hair and broad shoulders, only for it to sink low as she realized it was not Lord Finchley. “Lord Broadbent, good evening.”
“Good evening. Might I have your dance card?”
Eleanor tried to smile and handed it to him, hoping that her father, if he were watching, would be satisfied.
“And Lady Catherine?”
“You must introduce us, my friend!” Another gentleman, one that Eleanor did not recognize, came towards them all as her aunt took a step back, a smile on her face. “Here you are with two beautiful young ladies, with both of their dance cards in your hand, and here I am with nothing whatsoever!” He grinned at Eleanor, and whilst she smiled back, there was something about him that seemed familiar.
“We would be glad to be introduced,” Catherine replied, as Eleanor tried to keep her smile pinned, wondering why she felt as if she knew this as yet unintroduced gentleman already. “If you please, Lord Broadbent?”
With a heavy sigh, he put one hand to his heart. “If I must, although I must say that I am displeased to have to share your acquaintance, Lady Catherine.” This made Catherine blush as Eleanor hid a smile, thinking Lord Broadbent to be something of a flirt.
“Might I present Lady Catherine, daughter to the Earl of Cumbria, and her cousin, Lady Eleanor. I believe your father is the Earl of Hereford?”
“Yes, you are quite correct, Lord Broadbent.”
“Excellent.” He beamed at her. “Lady Catherine, Lady Eleanor, this is the Earl of Preston.”
Eleanor curtsied quickly, wondering why Lord Preston’s smile had shattered and why his gaze had become fixed on her face. “Good evening, Lord Preston.”
“Good evening,” Catherine added, as she too rose from her curtsy. “Are you enjoying the ball?”
Lord Preston did not respond. The way he was staring at Eleanor made her feel most uncomfortable, and she shifted on her feet, nervousness clawing at her chest. It was only when Lord Broadbent cleared his throat that Lord Preston started and then flushed hot, pushing one hand through his hair. “
“Forgive me, I was lost in thought,” he said, with a quick smile. “Yes, your dance cards, if I may?”
Handing hers to the gentleman, Eleanor licked her lips, wondering what it was about her that had caused the gentleman to respond so. She did not have any thought as to what it might be, confused as to his strange reaction to her, which, in turn, made her most unsettled.
“Brother, there you are. I was just – ”
A familiar voice made Eleanor’s heart cry aloud, slamming against her ribs painfully. The back of her neck prickled as she slowly turned her eyes to the gentleman, finally landing upon Lord Finchley.
He was gazing back at her, a redness in his face that increased in intensity with every second. The tightness in Eleanor’s chest did not lessen, and it took her some time to realize she was holding her breath. Lord Preston was saying something, but Eleanor did not know what it could be, hearing nothing but a light buzzing in her ears. The room around her began to fade away, shrouded now by all that she felt, leaving only herself and Lord Finchley together.
“Yes, yes, of course.” Lord Finchley cleared his throat and bowed. “How good to make your acquaintance.”
Catherine’s hand found hers and gripped it tightly, pulling Eleanor out of the fog that held her captive. “We are glad to make yours, Lord Finchley,” she said, her voice a little higher-pitched.
“You will want their dance cards also, I am sure.” Lord Broadbent chuckled and shook his head. “It seems as if my acquaintance with these two fine young ladies is no longer to be just my own; I must share them with you both!”
“Do not be selfish now, Lord Broadbent,” Catherine replied, making him chuckle. “You should be glad that we are to dance with so many.”
“I am jealous that I cannot take more than one of your dances, Lady Catherine,” Lord Broadbent replied, as Eleanor fought to steady herself, seeing Lord Preston hand his brother their dance cards. “But alas, that shall have to suffice for the time being.”
“Your waltz is already taken, Lady Eleanor.” Lord Finchley’s brow furrowed as he darted a quick glance in her direction.
She lifted her chin, feeling herself trembling inwardly but without any visible sign. Why would he say such a thing?
“I – forgive me, that was a foolish remark.” Lord Finchley cleared his throat gruffly, then looked down at the dance card. “The cotillion will satisfy, yes? And the country dance, Lady Catherine? I can see that my brother has already taken your waltz.”
“He has?” Catherine sounded quite astonished as Eleanor’s heart squeezed painfully. Had Lord Finchley said such a thing because he had thought to take Catherine’s waltz instead? Why would he do such a thing as that?
“Indeed, I have.” Lord Preston smiled warmly at Catherine. “I hope that contents you?”
“It does, very much.” Catherine’s cheeks had pinked, but Eleanor felt herself grow cold. Lord Finchley’s interaction with her had been tense and confusing, making her wonder why he was seemingly so interested in whether or not her waltz had been taken. Why then would he mention that Catherine’s was no longer available either?
“I thank you.” He was mumbling now, not looking at her as he handed back the dance card. “If you will excuse me, I should take my leave. Good evening.”
Eleanor watched him step away, a fire setting itself in her bones. No, she considered, she was not about to allow him to walk away without any further conversation! The letter he had written her, the words about protecting her, and what she had seen as she had sat in the carriage all rushed to the forefront of her mind, and, leaving her cousin and Lord Preston to talk together, Eleanor moved quickly, following after Lord Finchley.
“Eleanor! Wait, I – ”
Hearing her aunt calling her did nothing to prevent Eleanor’s steps. Following Lord Finchley, pushing her way through the crowd as her heart pounded furiously, she reached out one hand to him, only to pull it back. As he made his way to the side of the room, to where the lights were a little dimmer, Eleanor came to a dead stop, letting the gentlemen and ladies crowd around her. Dare she go speak with him? Her courage failed her for some moments, and, hesitating, she took a step back.
Her eyes closed.
Remember what it felt like to be in his arms, she told herself, the fire in her beginning to rise up again. Recall all that you shared and how abruptly it ended. Will speaking with him not bring you peace, a peace you have been searching for these many months? Her eyes opened and, with a heart that still thudded wildly and nervousness surging all through her, Eleanor moved forward.
He turned, just as she approached. The edges of his eyes rounded, and he took a step back, hitting the wall behind him as if desperate to escape her. Eleanor bit the inside of her cheek gently as she came ever closer, gripping onto the little strength she had within her and holding it tightly.
“Finchley,” she said, her voice rasping as she held his gaze. “I must speak with you.”
8
Rupert stared back at Lady Eleanor, his whole body searing itself with heat. He had not expected to come upon her so unexpectedly and most certainly had not thought that he would be dancing with her later this evening! His emotions had swelled with such great strength, he had been forced to hurry away from them all, unable to linger in her company any longer. Thinking to step away from her and to have a few moments alone where he might compose himself, he had come to the quieter part of the ballroom, only to now be faced with the very lady he had tried to escape from.
“You will not speak to me?” Blinking quickly, her voice trembling, she came a step closer to him. “Please, Finchley. Do not push me away. You have already done that once already, and I do not think I can bear another rejection.”
“I am not rejecting you,” he said, hoarsely, his chest tight. “Eleanor, this is not wise. There are so many who could see us and – ”
“I care not.” Another step taken towards him, another shard of lightning striking him at her nearness to him. Rupert could not breathe, forcing his gaze away from her. “I must know what you meant in your letter.”
Rupert closed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
She sighed. “Do you not understand? Can you not see that I have been left alone and in such a great confusion these last few months that I had not known what to think?” There came a sharpness into her eyes, such that he had never seen before as his words pierced his heart. “I thought that you were the very worst sort of gentleman. I believed that you were a scoundrel who had taken your fill of me and then chosen to step away once you had enjoyed yourself enough.”
“No! I would never have done such a thing to you!” Stay back from her, his heart warned, even as he drew closer. You cannot let her back into your arms, not when things are as they are. “I could never have been so cruel.”
“And yet, you were,” she said, her voice soft but her words burning him. “You left without explanation – and no explanation has been forthcoming still. Do you not know just how much I felt for you? Have you no understanding of that?”
Rupert looked down at the floor, his heart tearing. She had spoken about all that she had felt, not that she still held for him. It was just as he deserved, but all the same, it caused him great sorrow to hear.
“You spoke of protecting me,” she said, a good deal more quietly now. “What is it that you protected me from?”
Closing his eyes, Rupert shook his head. “I cannot explain.”
“Cannot or will not?”
Lifting his gaze, Rupert looked back into her beautiful face as regret whispered around him like a cold wind. “The day I returned from speaking with you, a letter was waiting for me. This letter contained information that forced me to quit my estate at once, so I might do my best to resolve the situation as quickly as I could. Had I been unsuccessful, then the threat of ruination remained steadily over my head, and I could not permit you to be a part of it.”
She did not even blink. “But why did you not tell me?”
Swallowing hard, Rupert looked away and ran one hand over his jaw. Dare he tell her the truth? Could he trust her with it? Yes, that, he knew, was not in doubt. He could trust Lady Eleanor with anything and know without doubt that she would not betray that trust. But could he tell her of his heart?
“It was to protect you,” he said again, speaking slowly as he chose each word with care. “If you knew of the situation, then I did not know what you would make of it – or of me. But worse than that, if there was any hint of connection between us and I was unable to resolve the situation, then you would have been tainted also, and therefore, I could not permit that to happen. I deeply regret that I did not speak to you honestly; however, I could have written and explained and prayed that you would understand… but I did not. I can only apologize, again, for my mistake and my lack of consideration.”
Lady Eleanor took in a deep breath, folded her arms over her chest, and looked back at him as she breathed out a long breath. There was no gentle affection in her eyes, as there had been before. Instead, she was assessing him, considering him, wondering whether or not he was speaking honestly. Rupert licked his lips, not certain what else to say and fighting against the desire to move closer, to take her hand, and to confess that she had never once left his heart.
“Tell me.”
Rupert blinked.
“Please, Finchley. Tell me what the situation was, the one that pulled you from me.” A catch came into her voice, and Rupert closed his eyes. “I must know what it was that took you from me, else I shall be forever wondering, forever questioning what it might have been.”
Rupert’s heart squeezed, and he nodded unwillingly. He did not have to do this, he knew, but perhaps this might lessen his regret and sorrow a little. Perhaps this was what he had to give her as part of his genuine apology. “It was my sister,” he said, his voice dropping to near a whisper. “I do not think I ever spoke of her to you, Eleanor, for at the time of our meeting, she was on a prolonged holiday with my aunt and uncle at his estate.” He swallowed tightly, fearful now that her response to what he had to say next would push her away from him for good. “My aunt wrote to me to tell me of a secret… a secret she had been keeping for many months.”
“Your aunt?”
Rupert shook his head. “My sister,” he said, his voice rasping heavily now. “My aunt informed me that she had discovered, to her utter shock and dismay, that my sister was with child. Quite how Rebecca had managed to keep it a secret from them all, I cannot imagine, but she had done so, up until the moment she could keep it no longer.”
Lady Eleanor had gone white, and Rupert was certain he saw a tremor run through her.
“My aunt begged me to come at once, and thus, I made preparations immediately. My great fear was that news of her child would become known, and once known, it would not only be Rebecca that would be ruined but myself and my brother’s reputation.”
Putting one hand to her heart, Lady Eleanor closed her eyes, swaying lightly. “How dreadful.”
“I could not tell you,” he said, brokenly. “I did not know what you would think, but I feared what would occur should anyone find out about my sister. It is a terrible thing to have a child without being wed. It is the sort of thing that ruins families for generations.”
“Indeed,” Lady Eleanor whispered, her hand dropping back to her side, tears in her eyes now. “Your sister must have been greatly upset herself. Is she quite well now?”
It took Rupert a few moments to respond, astonished that she was thinking so kindly of Rebecca instead of being captured with horror over what Rebecca had done. “She… she is well,” he said, slowly.
“And the child?”
Rupert nodded, his heart beginning to pour over with love for the woman in front of him. Why had he ever feared her response? There was nothing but compassion and kindness within her. “He is well,” he responded. “My sister adores him, so I am told.”
Lady Eleanor took out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. “What became of her? You said that the situation was resolved, did you not?”
“Yes, I did.” A small smile touched his lips despite the difficulty of their conversation. “A gentleman near to my aunt and uncle’s estate had previously expressed an interest in Rebecca’s hand in marriage. I spoke with him at length about the matter, and in turn, he spoke to Rebecca.” His smile faded. “My sister informed him – though she had not told me before this – that the child came about without her consent.”
A shudder ran over him as Lady Eleanor closed her eyes.
“I could not tell you the fury that passed over me upon hearing that,” Rupert continued, heavily. “Preston had the very same response. I confess, I left that matter in his hands, for he was quite determined to deal with that fellow in a firm and unrelenting way.”
“Oh, I am terribly sorry to hear such a thing.” Lady Eleanor’s face had lost all color, her shoulders dropping low. “Your poor sister. How dreadful a thing to endure.”
“She is contented now, however,” Rupert replied, recalling the pain that had torn through his sister’s expression when she had finally told him the truth about what had taken place. “Lord Nottingham is an excellent gentleman, for he showed the same compassion and understanding as you, Eleanor. They were married a little over a month ago and, from what I hear, the whisper is that the child is his, that he simply could not wait until they were married. Given that the estate is far from London, closer to the border of Scotland than to this place, I had not thought that anyone would either find out about it or give too much consideration to it, but – ”
He stopped dead. He was not about to tell Eleanor any more, not when she had heard so much from him already. That was all the explanation she needed.
“What else were you going to say?” She drew closer and put one hand on his arm, sending a searing heat right through him. “Is there something more?”
Closing his eyes so that he could not see her, Rupert swallowed thickly. “I cannot,” he rasped, his emotions redoubling themselves, taking a complete hold of him. If he opened his eyes again to see her light blue eyes gazing up at him, he feared he would lose himself completely, would lower his head and kiss her senseless, even as they stood in the ballroom. “Eleanor, please.”
For a long moment, nothing happened. Her hand actually tightened on his arm for just a moment before, after a long breath that brushed across his cheek, she stepped back and took her fingers from his arm.
“I hope that you will be satisfied now, as much as you can be,” Rupert said, heavily as he dared to open his eyes again and look at her. “And Eleanor, I truly am desperately sorry for what I failed to do at the time of our connection. I should never have left without explanation. For the pain and the sorrow and the upset you have endured, I am truly sorry.”
She nodded but said nothing, her eyes holding fast to his, a glint within them that Rupert could not fully understand. They stood like that for some time, with every moment feeling as if it stretched on and on. Rupert curled his hands into fists, resisting the quiet demand of his heart to go to her, to catch her up in his arms once more and confess all he felt for her still.
“I am grateful that I now know the truth,” she said, eventually. “I will, of course, keep that all to myself. No one needs to know anything of it.”
“I thank you.” Putting one hand to his heart, Rupert bowed low. “Eleanor, I am sorry.”
“I know.” Her smile was present but then gone again in a second, the light in her eyes dimming now. “I accept your apology, Rupert.”
The way she said his name had him sighing aloud, a groan catching the end of it. It was an intimacy that no one but she had, something that she had only ever whispered into his ear when they had been held in an embrace. For her to speak to him now in that way made his heart both sting with pain and squeeze with joy.
