“It was nothing groundbreaking, just some plans for the business. We talked them over, drank our tea, and then that was that.”
Marcia took a long, unladylike slurp of her tea. “That wasnotthat, though, was it? You’ve talked of nothing but Lord Henry and his audacity since I arrived. I would say it was weighing on your mind quite heavily.”
Eleanor flushed. “That’s not true.”
Marcia put her teacup down with aclack. She looked her friend dead in the eye.
“Eleanor, if I had a penny for every time you have brought the subject of Lord Henry into the conversation since the man arrived on the scene – brought up without any input from me, by the way – I should have made a small fortune. It seems that Lord Henry weighs on your mind infinitely more than he should.”
Colour heated Eleanor’s cheeks even more. “That is not… I mean I don’t… this isn’t fair. You don’t understand all of the facts.”
“Oh? And what are the facts?”
Eleanor’s mind went blank. “I don’t dislike Lord Henry, not exactly.”
“Dislike him? I should think not! You’re quite enamoured with the man.”
There was a painful silence after that. Eleanor glanced around wildly, as if somebody might be listening at the window or at the door.
“Marcia, I would appreciate it if you didn’t say such things. It’s rather shocking.”
Her friend rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be so sour. It’s not as if I’m saying it in public. It’s just you and me, dear. Come, be frank. Do you not think Lord Henry is handsome?”
“That is entirely irrelevant!”
Marcia poured herself a fresh cup of tea, thoughtfully dropping in a few lumps of sugar.
“I’m not sure itisirrelevant, dearest. I think he’s handsome. He is generally considered so. Not as pretty as his older brother, but then, the Willenshire siblingsareall good looking.”
“Looks are a piece of good luck, nothing more.”
“I’d agree. Eleanor, every time Lord Henry appears at a social event, you spend your time watching his progress around the room, thinking about him,talkingabout him, and, yes, looking at him. The man seems to occupy your mind all the time. Even when it’s just you and I, you think about him entirely too much. You are always talking about him. If you don’t mind me saying, dear, this does not seem likedislikeorindifferenceto me. It’s an emotion entirely more powerful.”
She paused, taking a sip of steaming hot tea before she continued.
“You either hate the man, or you are in love with him. Which is it?”
There was a pained silence in the room, filled only with the ticking of the grandfather clock.
“Marcia…”
“It is just you and me here. I’m not a gossip, and nor am I going to hold this information over your head. You’ve been bursting with a secret, Eleanor. I know already what it is. Why don’t you tell me?”
Eleanor’s shoulders sagged.
“I… I will confess that I do feel rather drawn to Lord Henry. It’s hard to say exactly what it is, but I do feel… I do feel something.”
“Elaborate.”
Eleanor sighed, tucking those stray strands of hair behind her ear again. In a flash, she was back in her office, her half-finished sketches underneath her elbows, and she and Lord Henrywere talking, the tea he had made sitting between them. A lock of hair escaped, hanging by her cheek. She glanced up and saw his eyes on it. Lord Henry’s hand twitched, and he made an abortive half-movement, as if to reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear, only to flatten his hand firmly on the table, fingers turning white from the pressure.
Then a warm feeling had spread through her chest, strangely powerful. She’d shaken it off as best she could and concentrated on the subject at hand.
The scene returned to her now, and she swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry.
“I think… I think perhaps I may have a fancy for him,” she managed lamely.
“A fancy for him? Oh, please, my dear. A woman whohas a fancyfor a man flutter around him at parties, and maybe whispers about him to her friends. You, my dear, are entirely gone. You are beyondfanciesandflutters. I suspect you are in love with the man, even if you won’t admit it.”
