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“How can you be certain?” she asked kindly, though she knew it was the truth.
“Papa once told me no man sells his land unless he has no other alternative,” explained Caroline, her tone matter-of-fact. “And he’s done exactly that.” Her eyes narrowed. “The Yarboroughs are awfully anxious to give the impression of wealth, but I’d be willing to wager that once the money he received for that land runs out he’ll be a pauper—unless he marries well. I am certainly no heiress. It would not surprise me at all if Lady Yarborough withdraws her support of me the moment she realizes you’re a lost cause.” She tossed her curls. “It’ll be a relief.”
Eleanor looked at her with new respect. “I did not think you would see it—about the money, I mean.”
“Neither did Lady Yarborough,” replied Caroline archly. “I hope she won’t brag about her son’s exploits to any other prospective brides. Or maybe I do. It would serve them both right if her flapping jaws ruined his chances of bagging an heiress.”
“Little chance of that,” Eleanor sighed. “Unfortunately, there will be plenty of naive young debutantes just waiting to be taken advantage of by people like the Yarboroughs. Let us just be glad we are not among them.”
Later that night, when the candles had been extinguished and Caroline was fast asleep, Eleanor lay awake, staring at the faint light shining from the gap beneath their door. She’d heard no evidence of anyone occupying the adjacent room since the inn had quieted. Even so, she swore she could feel Sorin’s presence emanating from the other side of the wall.
Closing her eyes, she tried to put it out of her mind. But thoughts of him would not desist. Eventually, fatigue claimed her and she slipped into the realm of dreams.
Sorin lay still as death. Eleanor was so close. He could hear everything on the other side of the wall, from her gentle laughter as she talked with her friend to the splash of water as she bathed. The thought of her bathing sent a flash of heat through his body, tightening his loins. He thanked the Lord they’d left for London a week before most other families and that he’d had the forethought to make clear in his advance letters that he wanted a room of his own. After the day he’d spent listening to Yarborough, it would have been absolutely unbearable to have to share a room with him.
When all was quiet and he could hear nothing more, he turned onto his side and stared at the dim line of light under the door. His mother had certainly put Lady Yarborough in her place tonight. Even so, there would likely be trouble for Eleanor from that source later on. Mother’s sponsorship would help stave off any attacks on her character, but she wouldn’t always be there to act as a buffer.
I, on the other hand, will. It was a promise he intended to keep.
Rolling over again, he faced the darkness and closed his eyes, trying to find sleep. Despite being weary from the day’s long ride, a great restlessness had taken him the instant he’d lain down. His thoughts refused to settle. He longed to be with Eleanor somewhere quiet where he could work on her unimpeded. London was just too ful
l of distraction and turmoil.
If only I’d come home sooner…
Opening his eyes, Sorin was startled to find his valet standing over him with a lit candle. Groggily, he rose and went to the window. Opening the shutters, he saw faint streaks of predawn light on the eastern horizon, and cursed beneath his breath. It certainly didn’t feel like he’d slept. Dressing with all speed, he went downstairs and joined the others at table. Two members of their party were conspicuously absent. “Where is Lady Yarborough?” he asked Charles, taking the seat beside him.
“Like your mother, she’s taking the morning meal in her room,” his friend muttered around a forkful of ham. “Unlike your mother, her choice to do so is doubtless a form of protest over last night’s defeat,” he added with a chuckle.
“She’ll be down soon enough. Or she’ll get left behind,” Sorin replied, taking a sip of what the serving woman had alleged was tea. He cast a covert glance down the table. Yarborough had sat himself opposite Caroline at the other end of the table and was already filling the air with boastful chatter. Eleanor, who’d made a place for herself in the middle of the long trestle away from everyone, appeared quite content eating her breakfast alone and in peace.
She looked up from her plate and smiled at him warmly. He smiled back and lifted his cup in silent salute. The serving woman chose that moment to come back and load his plate, coming between them. By the time she moved out of the way, Eleanor had finished her repast and was rising. Rowena, who’d also finished, came over to her and together the ladies excused themselves.
Sorin bolted his food as quickly as possible and got up, leaving behind a rather startled Charles. He was just entering the common room when he noticed Lady Yarborough coming down the stairs. Not wishing to start the morning off with an unpleasant encounter, he hung back and waited, hoping she would go the other way. To his disappointment, however, she made a beeline to where Eleanor and Rowena now sat with their backs to the room, warming themselves by the fire.
Alongside his mother.
He scowled in surprise. What was she doing downstairs this early? She never emerged from her chamber until just before it was time to depart. Curiosity drove him to follow Lady Yarborough at a distance and quietly take a nearby wingback chair that faced away from them.
“Good morning Lady Ashford, Lady Wincanton,” he heard Lady Yarborough say. There was a heavy pause, and then, “Good morning, Lady Eleanor. I do hope everyone rested well.”
“Quite,” answered his mother. “One expects the bedding in such establishments to be disagreeable at best; however, I found mine surprisingly tolerable.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” replied Lady Yarborough. “I will relay your compliment to my son, who suggested this establishment. He expects the best, you know. As do I. I have no forbearance for things that are not of the very highest quality.”
Silence.
“Lady Yarborough, might I have a word with you in private?” he heard Eleanor ask after a moment.
“My dear child,” said Lady Yarborough in an oily manner that made his skin crawl with distaste, “whatever you have to say to me may surely be said before your family and friends.”
After a moment’s hesitation Eleanor again spoke, her voice sounding a bit strangled, “Yes, of course. Lady Yarborough, I wish to express my…regret over the unfortunate misunderstanding between us yesterday.”
“Misunderstanding?” The flatly spoken word was laden with displeasure.
“Yes,” answered Eleanor. “I’ve had time to think about what transpired. You were correct in that I have never been so unfortunate as to be faced with a decision like that which was forced upon your son. Though I would like to think I would have chosen differently, I cannot be absolutely certain I would have done so had I been in his place. As such, I ask that you forgive my having spoken in haste. I’m afraid I let my passion carry me beyond the bounds of polite manners.”
Tucked away in his chair, Sorin covered his mouth to hide a broad grin. Clever girl! She hadn’t at all apologized for what she’d said, but rather the manner of its delivery.
