“None of us deserve her,” Henry said, “but I swear to you I will love her with everything I am for the rest of my life.”
Victor pressed his eyes closed and spoke through a tight jaw. “Father has handed operation of the earldom over to me. He maintains the title, but I have the control.” He hesitated for a long moment. “If you wish to marry Eleanor, I give you my permission.”
Henry bristled. He needed no one’s permission but Ellie’s, but excitement and hope began beating wildly in his chest. Extending his hand, he shook Victor’s, the agreement made.
“I swear to you, Victor. I’ll make her happy,” Henry managed.
When Victor met his gaze, Henry saw a glimmer of something truly miraculous. Victor believed him.
Chapter 30
Elliecouldn’trecallasingle instance in which her father’s office door had been left open. In fact, she could scarcely remember what the interior looked like. During her childhood, her mother warned her to never interrupt the marquess’ work; the study was for men doingimportant things,not for little girls like her.
Shortly before Ellie’s fourteenth birthday, her mother caught her fatheren flagrantein his office, the most blatant of his infidelities to date. The room henceforth served as a monument to his shame. When it became clear the marquess had no intention of ceasing his extramarital conquests, Lady Warwick banished him to a set of apartments in Knightsbridge, but he maintained the office as a show of power within the family. The man returned only periodically, like a distant monarch visiting a colony, reminding his subjects to whom they were beholden.
“Enter,” he bellowed, and Ellie fought the desire to roll her eyes as she opened the door. Her regard for her father had dwindled over the years, starting its slow decline when she could no longer ignore his affairs, and continuing its downward spiral as she had to bear the brunt of her mother’s emotional collapse as her mind abandoned her. After the disastrous marriage arrangement to Ashby, she found her faltering respect had petered to only the dimmest glow.
Her father looked up with a start when she sat across from his desk. “I was expecting Victor.”
Of course you were. Her brother only made the trip to London when absolutely necessary, spending as little time in the house as possible, outside the mandated meetings with his father, to discuss pressing matters of the marquessate. “I believe he’s still upstairs.” She had heard Victor pacing and even speaking earlier, but he had yet to descend for breakfast.
The nobleman sat back in his chair, his gray eyes fond as he took in his daughter’s appearance. “Are you ill, my dear? You look drawn.”
“Yes, I would say I’m not at my best,” she said, her voice tight. “Mother told me something concerning about my marriage.”
His lip curled at the mention of his wife. “Is she having a bad day?”
“I don’t think you’ve been around her enough to determine what a good or bad day looks like.”
His brows lifted, a gesture of profound shock from the stoic man. “That’s unnecessary, Eleanor.”
Ellie crossed her arms over her chest and glared. “I’m not a little girl to be chastised. And I’m not here to discuss how you have treated my mother. That is a conversation for another day.” She took in a deep, steadying breath. “The morning of my wedding, did you speak with Lord Morley?”
Pursing his lips, her father looked down at his hands clasped on the desk, then released them to push papers aside. Ellie was uncertain if she had ever received her father’s full attention before. “What did your mother say?”
“That Henry—Lord Morley asked—” Her voice hitched, and she cleared her throat. “He asked for you to call off the wedding to Ashby.”
He nodded, not breaking eye contact with his daughter. “That’s true.”
“And he asked to marry me?”
Ellie did not know what response she hoped for. If he denied it, she could continue with her worldview, wrap her time with Henry up in a bow, her memories a treasured souvenir of their trip together, one she could set aside and ultimately forget.
But he nodded once more, the single bob of his head enough to send her insides reeling. “And you sent him away?” The words were more a plea for understanding than a question.
“Morley wasn’t good enough, Eleanor,” he said, his voice rough. “He had a terrible reputation, and I didn’t trust he could provide for you.” He sighed, and Ellie fought the sob choking her throat. “I was trying to protect you.”
“I’m so tired of men deciding the best way to protect me,” she spat. “Shouldn’t that be my decision?”
“You were still a girl, and under my protection—”
“I was twenty-two, Father!” she cried, clenching her fists at her sides. “And you were so eager to be rid of me, of the responsibility ofus—” She gestured behind her to where her mother sat in the sewing room, knitting and unknotting the same scarf again and again, “—that you sold me off to the first man who showed an interest.” Ellie swallowed the sob down, refusing to let it escape.
“I never had the chance to be happy. Ashby destroyed me and left me a shell of who I was, incapable of finding love. And to know I could have had…” She broke off, losing the battle with her tears.
“You would have been happy with Morley?” When she met her father’s eyes, she saw remorse in the wrinkle of his brow.
“I could have been,” she managed. “But I’ll never know now.”
