“Wait… you have a sketch with you here, now? At the ball?”
Eleanor pulled a face. “I have it in my reticule. Here, I’ll show you.”
He was laughing quietly, shaking his head.
“You are a remarkable woman, Miss Fairfax. Although I’m sure you’ve heard that before.”
To her absolute horror, Eleanor felt heat climbing up into her cheeks.
“You’re very kind,” she managed. “That sketch…?”
“Oh, yes, I couldn’t go without seeing it, please, Miss Fairfax. I really do mean it – if I have a greater share in the business, I intend to make full use of your sketches, and give you full credit.”
That gave Eleanor something of a start – she’d forgotten all about that. What would it be like, though, to see her designs on teacups and pottery? To have everybodyknowthey were her designs?
It was dizzying, but there was no time for her to think too long about it. A gong rang, and then people were pairing off to file through to the dining room. Eleanor’s heart sank.
“I must go,” Henry said, and his voice sounded truly regretful. Or was that just her imagination? “I’m escorting my mother in tonight. I hope to see you soon, Miss Fairfax.”
She bobbed a wordless curtsey, and then he was gone, disappearing through the crowd, maneuvering his broad shoulders through the other guests easily.
Why was her heart beating like it was going to burst?
***
Eleanor had guessed that she would not be seated alongside the Lords and Ladies of the party, and she was correct. The Fairfaxes were accepted in Society, but they were still touched bytrade, and that meant something.
Instead, Eleanor found herself sitting beside Marcia – which was nice enough – and a painfully shy young lady who nervously introduced herself as Miss Abigail Atwater, and then averted her eyes to her plate and said nothing more. Eleanor knew the Atwater family by reputation and knew that one of the Atwater girls hadjust made her come-out and was said to be dazzlingly beautiful and quite a success already.
Obviously, that was notthisAtwater girl.
Across the table and a little further down sat Henry, and Eleanor made a valiant effort not to keep glancing his way. He was sitting next to Miss Sophia Redford, who was already tossing her hair and laughing a trifle too loudly at nothing. Henry’s mother, the Dowager Duchess of Dunleigh, sat beside him, and seemed to be holding back a smile whenever she glanced at the young people.
Eleanor’s heart sank. Obviously, the Dowager favoured Miss Redford as a suitor for her son, and why shouldn’t she? Sophia was rich, beautiful, and said to be highly accomplished. She was of excellent breeding, and quite the catch of the Season. Everybody knew the Redfords wanted a fine match for their daughter, and with her beauty and charm, they were likely to get it.
Miss Sophia Redford would not sully her impeccable hands with ledgers and charcoal or sit in an office puzzling over a column of numbers. Eleanor glanced down at her own hands, half-expecting to see ink smudges on her fingers.
“Eleanor? Eleanor, are you listening to me?”
Flinching, Eleanor glanced guiltily over at her friend.
“I’m sorry, Marcia, I was wool-gathering.”
“Yes, I can see. I asked you if you enjoyed your dance with Lord Henry Willenshire. I thought you didn’t like the man.”
“I don’t,” she answered, a trifle too quickly. “He’s meddling in our business.”
Marcia shot her a thoughtful glance over the rim of her wine glass. “That’s a strange way to describe a man who wants toinvestin your business. Still, I don’t want to argue with you. I just wondered if you’d noticed whoelseis here at this party.”
She made her eyes go wide and to the side, and Eleanor, bewildered, followed her gaze.
Her heart immediately sank.
A few places down, on the opposite side of the table, sat a tall, good-looking man with black hair going tastefully grey at the temples. He was swallowing down the last of his wine, leaning a little too close to a wide-eyed debutante.
“Oh, bother,” Eleanor muttered. “Lord Richard Grenville. I should have known he’d be here. Has Papa seen him?”
“I don’t know. It’s such a crush in that ballroom, but you can see everybody in here. You can just avoid him, can’t you? It would be awfully bad taste to bring business into the ballroom.”
