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Her words felt like a slap. Had Sorin indeed told her cousin of her gross impropriety all those years ago? “I would never do anything to cause him discomfort. If you object to my accompanying him to see the jeweler, then—”
“I have no objection whatsoever,” interrupted Rowena. “All I wish is that you keep in mind how things might appear to those outside our intimate little circle. London, as you know, is an entirely different world than the one to which we are accustomed out here in the countryside. I fear we’ll have enough to worry about this Season without any disparaging whispers concerning you.” Her gaze flew to Charles and company, which Eleanor noticed now included Caroline.
“That’s another thing I’ve been meaning to discuss with you,” said Rowena, her tone taking on an edge. “I know Caroline is your friend, but I hope we do not come to regret allowing her to accompany us.”
“I hope not, too,” Eleanor muttered without thinking. She shrank under Rowena’s sudden, sharp gaze. “Do not mistake me—I adore her, but I’m well aware of her impulsive nature.”
“Then I shall prevail upon you to at all times adjure her to curb her impetuosity. As she is to be under our sponsorship, her behavior will reflect directly upon us. I should greatly dislike having to inform her family of any unfortunate circumstances resulting from misconduct on her part while she is in our care.”
“Of course,” Eleanor replied soothingly. “But I beg you not to think too harshly of her. She is simply…gregarious. I’m certain she comprehends the level of decorum expected of her.”
“I pray so, too, for all our sakes. But come, we must leave now or the meal will be overcooked.”
Yarborough and his mother were still attempting to ingratiate themselves with Charles when they joined the party, and Eleanor couldn’t help but notice the sly wink her old nemesis gave her as he bowed. She marked also that Lady Yarborough’s curtsy to Rowena was little more than cursory, though Rowena was a duchess and she the mere widow of a baronet. Their familiarity was presumptuous and more than a little insulting. Then again, perhaps she was being overly sensitive in the aftermath of Rowena’s little chat with her. Still, she liked it not. It smacked of arrogant assumptions concerning their relationship with her family.
“Husband, I do hate to intrude, but we must away home,” said Rowena, taking Charles’s arm.
“Yes, of course,” he replied, absently patting her hand. “Sir Yarborough and I were just discussing the state of the towns between here and London. According to him, there has been a good deal of improvement in the town of Hindon since we last passed through it. There is a new inn there, now, the Ellington Arms. I was thinking we might stop there to overnight rather than going on to Chilmark. It would shorten that leg of the journey a bit and allow the horses a longer rest.”
“Whatever you desire, my dear,” said Rowena mildly. “But come, already the day grows long and there is much yet to accomplish before it is done.” She cast him a beguiling smile, and his eyes brightened.
Eleanor hid a smile of her own as her cousin bid the Yarboroughs a hasty farewell. If ever she were to attempt to ensnare a man, Rowena’s example was surely the one to follow. Her methods were subtle and elegant. Unlike Caroline, who was even now casting coy glances back over her shoulder at Yarborough as if she’d never talked of bagging Sorin an hour before.
To be fair, she’d known her friend would be far too shrewd to put all of her eggs in one basket. Thanks to a terribly botched courtship during her debut, Caroline had come up short of beaux these last two years. This being her third—and likely final—Season out, Eleanor had no doubt she’d get down to business and ensnare several serious suitors before all was said and done. Her chances were improved by the fact that only four “prize purses”—three, Eleanor corrected, removing herself from the equation—would be out this year. Those who hadn’t been lucky enough to catch an heiress last Season would perhaps be more amenable to the
idea of marrying a young lady of more modest means.
“I think Sir Yarborough is quite a nice gentleman,” reflected Caroline, confirming Eleanor’s suspicions as she settled into her seat. “I found his mother most agreeable. She extended an invitation for me to join her for tea while in London. Her son is of an enjoyable temperament as well. Nothing at all like the mean little boy you described to me this morning.”
“I should hope not,” Eleanor snapped, forgetting her intent to remain impassive. “I would rather hope the years have matured him beyond feeling a need to push people down in the mud.”
Charles frowned. “I had no idea he’d done such a thing, Eleanor. Had I known, I can assure you I would have been less willing to have them join our party. No man should ever raise his hand to a lady.”
“Indeed,” agreed Rowena. “Such an act, though committed in his youth, shows a serious lack of breeding. You should both be very cautious in your dealings with him.”
“We were only children,” Eleanor sighed, though she was loath to take Yarborough’s side.
“Did you perhaps…provoke him in any way?” asked Caroline, her tone hopeful.
“No,” she answered flatly, her temper growing shorter by the second. “He was a bit of a bully to everyone, if you want to know. He enjoyed antagonizing people, in general. I was but one of many. Surely he is a different person now.”
“Boys are betimes unruly and forgetful of their manners,” said Charles with a noncommittal shrug. “Perhaps he has changed, at that.”
Rowena’s lips pursed. “I’m not so certain. The stripes don’t wash off a tiger when it takes a bath, and neither do they fade with age. Regardless, it is too late now to alter our plans. The Yarboroughs will be joining us on the road to London, and we shall likely be obliged to entertain them once or twice while there, being that they are acquaintances from the same county.”
Wonderful. Eleanor kept a neutral face, but inside she was already thinking of ways to get out of it. Being “indisposed” would work only once. As for the overly-eager Caroline, she would indeed do well to have a care with the Yarboroughs. Very likely, Lady Yarborough’s invitation to tea was merely a means of gathering information on how best to cast the net for the bigger fish.
She shook herself. Enough of this bitterness and old bile! There were more important things to think about, like tomorrow and Sorin’s visit.
Almost as if she’d read her mind, Rowena spoke his name. “Oh, Lord Wincanton will indeed be joining us for dinner tomorrow, Charles. He sends his regrets for not having been to see you again sooner. He has been much occupied with matters at home.”
Charles’s brooding expression lifted into a smile of delight. “Ah! Excellent, excellent! I cannot begin to tell you how glad I am that he’s returned to us. Like a brother to me, really. Better than a brother, actually—a brother would be hankering after m’title,” he added with a chuckle.
Beside her, Eleanor heard Caroline snicker softly. The gleeful, calculating look on her friend’s face told her there would be trouble from that quarter tomorrow.
After a slightly overcooked luncheon, she went to her room to have a look through her wardrobe. The new gowns Rowena had ordered for her were all being sent directly to their London residence, but there were a few from last year that Sorin hadn’t yet seen. Her fingers lingered over the deep-aqua silk. It would do nicely—the cut emphasized her maturity. Holding it up against herself, she stood before the mirror.
I’ll look anything but childish in this. And since silk is so difficult to get these days, I’ll stand out. The thought brought her up short, and she frowned at her reflection. Stand out for whom?
