AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“With the exception that she’s grown now, and into a very beautiful young woman,” she said with a thoughtful nod. “I certainly hope she comes to return your feelings, but you ought to prepare yourself in the event that she does not. The friendship was forged when she was young, and such perceptions as she has concerning you may be difficult or even impossible to overcome.” Her grim expression softened into one of sympathy. “But I suppose you’ve already given that a great deal of thought.”
“Indeed I have.” Nothing more could be said on the matter without further embarrassment. He cleared his throat. “May I assume, based on this conversation, that she has your approval?”
“Naturally,” she said in an equally dry manner. “She’s a duke’s daughter and a fine catch. But were she a pauper, I would still grant my blessing.” His surprise must have been evident, for she began to chuckle. “Surely you did not think I would object? I’ve always been fond of the girl.”
“I thought you had your eye on Lady Billingsley’s daughter?”
“Given the circumstances, I no longer consider her an appropriate choice—unless of course matters don’t turn out,” she replied, her usual business-like demeanor returning. “Now, I shall leave you to plot your course without further maternal interference.” She shot him a knowing glance as she straightened her hat and veil. “Despite your fears to the contrary, I shan’t act on your behalf unless you specifically request it—and you needn’t look so relieved. There are times when a mother’s meddling can be both useful and effective.”
“I shall bear it in mind,” he muttered.
“See that you do,” she replied with a hard glance. “Now, go and rescue her from Yarborough before everyone here thinks them forming an attachment.”
Chapter Six
Despite his polished manners and gentlemanly appearance, Donald Yarborough was still an arrogant, puffed-up roisterer. Eleanor’s teeth were already on edge and she hadn’t been subjected to his company for even half an hour. To be fair, her encounter with Sorin—or rather the lack of one—had put her in a black mood, and she was finding it more and more difficult to quash her vexation.
“I hope you won’t mind if I tell you how lovely you’ve grown since last I saw you,” said Yarborough.
She didn’t dare tell him how very much she did mind, not while he held her hand prisoner on his arm, at least. Instead, she ducked her head as though embarrassed.
“I would be dishonest did I not admit it,” he went on. “I cannot tell you how pleased I am that you did not simply walk away earlier. I know I was a terrible trial to you when we were children. I do hope you’ve forgiven me my errors.”
His smile was very pretty indeed, but one look in his eyes told her his words were nothing more than that—empty words. She remembered with perfect clarity the way he’d tormented her and how he had delighted in her tears. Still, better to have the appearance of friendly relations than open hostility—at this early juncture, at least. “Of course I have. The past is long gone and we are different people now.”
“Indeed we are,” he said, again letting his eyes wander.
She felt herself coloring and, looking away, marked the approach of the one person in all the world she wished most to avoid. But unlike earlier, Sorin was looking directly at her now and smiling as though he had not completely ignored her earlier.
“Hello, Lady Eleanor, and I believe it’s Mister Yarborough, is it not?”
Beside her, she felt Yarborough stiffen. “Actually, it’s Sir Yarborough now.”
“I see. Please accept both my apology for the oversight and my condolences to you and your mother for your loss,” said Sorin. “I’ve been away and was unaware you had inherited.”
“Thank you, Wincanton,” said Yarborough, seemingly mollified. “It is a little more than a year since I took on the burden. But let us not dwell on the melancholy. I’m most pleased to renew your acquaintance. It has been many years since we last greeted each other, has it not?”
Eleanor had not missed his familiar manner of address—and neither had Sorin. “At least five,” he answered, his flat reply making clear that it had not been nearly long enough.
“Indeed,” she interjected brightly, hoping to ease the tension. “I wondered whether you would remember each other.”
Sorin looked to her, a hint of a smile curling one side of his mouth. “His face has not changed so much as to be unrecognizable, and neither am I so old as to have forgotten it.”
The warmth and humor in his eyes elicited a queer fluttering in her stomach.
“How happy I am to know that I’m so memorable,” said Yarborough, drawing her a bit closer.
Instinct made her shrink from the contact before thinking better of it. She kicked herself mentally as Sorin’s gaze sharpened.
He’d seen. “Lady Eleanor, might I borrow you for a moment to ask your opinion regarding a gift?”
Her irritation with him evaporated. She’d go anywhere as long as it gave her an excuse to get away from Yarborough. “Oh, a gift? I would be delighted.” But her attempt to ease away from her captor was met with resistance. “What sort of gift?” she asked lightly, as though nothing was amiss.
“A gift for my mother,” he said, his face hardening as he stared at Yarborough. “Her birthday is next month, and I wish to commission a piece of jewelry for the occasion. Perhaps you and Lady Ashford might be of help?” He offered his arm and waited.
With ill-concealed reluctance, Yarborough at last let her go.
Relieved, Eleanor quickly transferred her hand to Sorin’s sleeve, where it received a quick, reassuring pat. Well, it would have been reassuring—had it not been for the blossoming warmth his touch left behind. So unsettling was the sensation that when they turned to depart, she missed her step and had to hop in a most undignified manner to right herself. Sorin, thank heaven, appeared not to notice. She glanced over her shoulder, hoping Yarborough had already turned away, only to have her hopes dashed.
