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“If you wish her company, then by all means invite her to join us,” he said with ill-concealed impatience. “Invite anyone you like. We’ll make a party of the event.”
Eleanor felt like sinking into the ground. I knew it! Taking his arm again, she propelled them forward to disguise her upset. “Actually, now that I think of it, it might be better if we did not ask her. It might be an unkindness.”
“Oh? How so?”
Sighing, she shot him a sorrowful look. “Not to be indelicate, but her prospects are not such that she’s likely to ever be able to afford the kind of merchandise offered at Rundell & Bridge’s. Her lack of a significant fortune destines her for a baronet, at best.”
His brows crashed together. “Her lack of money is an unfortunate circumstance, certainly. But why should it limit her in so definite a manner? Not all men marry solely for money, Ellie.”
“Perhaps,” she said, keeping her tone light, in spite of her panic. “But I’ve learned that most give it a great deal of consideration when it comes to the selection of their bride. Marriage has ever been a mercenary practice for the aristocracy—for both genders. Of course I hope Caroline marries for love, but I’m forced to be as pragmatic about it as the lady herself.”
“Pragmatic? A week ago the girl was prattling on about longings of the heart and meaningful relationships.”
“That was strictly for the benefit of her audience,” she said in her driest tone. “Later when we were alone, she confided in me that she plans to marry the fattest purse she can catch this Season.” She felt no guilt for having said it, for it was the absolute truth.
“Is her situation so very desperate?”
Alarm traced a cold finger down her spine. The last thing she needed was for him to feel sympathy for Caroline! “You misunderstand,” she said with a little chuckle. “While Caroline’s family is limited in means, they are nowhere near destitute. Should she decide not to marry, she will certainly suffer no privation—but she would be ill content with such a life. More than anything, for her, marriage is a vehicle for improving her station. She, like so many, aims to marry up. I only hope that in her ambition she does not set her cap at too high a mark and miss an opportunity to make a perfectly agreeable match with someone nearer her rank. Ah! There is Rowena over by the gate.”
Satisfaction filled her. There. That ought to put an end to it.
The motivation behind her rather unsubtle warning was something Sorin dearly wished to explore, but the fact that Eleanor had forgiven him for embarrassing her and was now conversing so affably was enough to make him let the matter drop.
Her demeanor toward him was vastly improved compared to this morning. Perhaps her friendliness was simply due to his having delivered her from Yarborough’s clutches, but he hoped it was more. He’d wait and see whether she mentioned the lout’s interest to her guardians. Given her apparent eagerness to escape, he didn’t think she would speak of him in favorable terms. If she did, then there was a whole new set of unpleasant variables to consider.
For now, however, it appeared he had the advantage. Rundell & Bridge’s had been a stroke of genius. The “birthday present” had been a complete fabrication, of course—he’d obtained a suitable gift ages ago—but such an outing would provide him another opportunity to gain useful insight, maybe even make her see him in a new light. After all, how could a woman look at rings with a man and not think of marriage?
A rush of anticipatory pleasure washed over him—as well as anxiety. As much as he wanted to tell Charles of his intentions prior to revealing them to Eleanor, his heart told him it would be a mistake. Despite their long friendship, he didn’t doubt for a moment it would cause complete uproar, and he could ill afford to risk losing access to Eleanor even for a short time. Also, Charles was very bad at subterfuge. Like his cousin, he possessed an open temperament. One could often guess what he was thinking just by observing his face. Eleanor, for all her naïveté, was no fool and would see right through him.
What he needed now was time, time to let her get to know him as a man, time to forge a new relationship with her, one of equals. He marked the roses in her cheeks and the closeness of her hold on his arm as they crossed the churchyard. It was heavenly being near her like this.
“Remember the day you taught me how to make a proper fist?” she asked suddenly.
He smiled. “How can I forget?” He’d ridden into the stables to find her huddled in a corner, hay in her hair, mud on her dress, and her face streaked with wrathful tears. He’d been livid when she’d told him the reason behind her condition, though she’d never revealed the culprit’s name.
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“Well, the boy who pushed me down that day was Yarborough.”
“I wondered about the identity of your bête noire,” he said far more calmly than he felt. He liked Yarborough even less, now that he knew for certain.
“Yes, well the next time he tried to shove me down, I knocked him flat on his…” She glanced at him guiltily. “Derriere,” she finished, a sheepish grin on her lips. “He never bothered me again.”
Until today. “You could have told me, you know. I would have been pleased to correct his misconduct.”
She gave a disdainful snort. “And what a coward he would have thought me, running to tell the tale. No, far better that he learned for himself I’m no weakling to be trifled with.”
“Weakling is never a term I would associate with you,” he said, earning a quick smile. “But even as courageous as you are, you might find that being sheltered and protected is not such a terrible thing. The world can be a very harsh place, especially for women.”
This sage advice was met with a long sigh. “I shall have no need of protection because I have no intention of provoking anyone’s enmity. Did you not just witness how I handled Yarborough? The wounds of the past are long healed over. I have no enemies to fear.”
Indeed he had witnessed it. And he hadn’t liked it one bit. “If only provocation was a requirement for conflict, but that’s not how the world works.”
“I’m not so naive as to think it does,” she answered testily. “I well know the injustices this world is capable of visiting upon those undeserving of punishment. But it does so far less often to those who choose to live simply and quietly. I have the means to achieve that end.”
Stopping again, he turned to face her. “Is that really all you desire, Ellie? A simple, quiet life on your own?” Her silence revitalized his hope. “Though you might not think it, independence—a highly relative term in my opinion—involves such complications as you have likely never considered.”
“I am perfectly capable of caring for myself,” she insisted, lifting her nose a fraction higher.
