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Eagerly, she took up the thread. “Yes. Apparently, she was proposed to by a young man to whom the family strongly objects. They wish her to refuse him, but she is being most intractable.” She moved closer and lowered her voice just enough to make it plain that she was excluding certain parties from the conversation, but not enough to prevent that conversation being overheard. “She claims it is a love match, but her family feels the young man has mercenary motives.”
“Perhaps they ought to reconsider their position,” interjected Yarborough, coming around to again stand before them. “After all, the young lady may never receive another offer of marriage.”
Eleanor felt her hackles rise. “I can think of far more tragic circumstances than spinsterhood, Sir Yarborough—one of them being that of a young woman trapped in an imprudent marriage to a man who claims to love her while his true and only interest is in pilfering her purse.”
Now it was Yarborough’s turn to bristle, but any rejoinder he might have given was cut off by Sorin before it could be voiced. “I can only agree,” said he. “Better for her to remain unwed than marry a fool, or worse, a deceiver.”
Eleanor observed that his eyes were fixed on Yarborough as he said it. Oh, my.
All color, save two high splotches of red on his cheeks, drained from the younger man’s face as he visibly struggled for composure. Finally, he cast his gaze down and bowed shortly. “I’m afraid I’ve intruded upon a conversation that was intended to be private. Please excuse me.” Turning on his heel, he stalked away, leaving the two of them alone.
“Oh, bravo, my friend,” she murmured to Sorin, setting her cup down on a nearby stump. “I could not have done that better myself.”
“I must apologize,” he said at once, coming over to set his still-full cup beside hers. “I should have been more forbearing. He is, after all, still very young.”
“He is a year older than I,” she objected, looking down so that he wouldn’t see her disappointment.
“Perhaps, but you are far wiser.”
Something in his voice drew her gaze back up again. Beneath the budding willow branches, his hazel eyes were so very green, so intense in their regard of her. “Am I?” Her voice shook just a little.
He drifted closer. “Of course you are. You have a maturity about you to which that whelp can hardly ever hope to aspire, as well as many other fine qualities.”
Light and warmth blossomed within her. She allowed the current that had been steadily tugging her toward him draw her a step nearer. “Such a compliment from you is high indeed and worth more to me than any he could ever give. Yours are genuine, while his are no more than empty words contrived to lead me astray.”
They were less than an arm’s length away from each other now. All she had to do was reach out and she could touch him, place her hand upon his chest. Her heart hammered wildly as his gaze dropped to her mouth.
With a suddenness that left her swaying on the spot, he drew back and turned to walk to the edge of the pond. Stooping, he picked up a small twig that had fallen from the willow and twirled it for a moment between his fingers before casting it lightly into the water. The swans turned curiously, no doubt hoping to receive an offering of bread. “I’m glad to hear you say it,” he said without looking at her. “It shows you’ve learned the art of discernment. Another mark of wisdom.”
Mortification flooded through her, leaving behind a bitter taste. Damn, damn, and damn! For a moment, just a brief happy moment, she’d thought he might kiss her. But no, not Sorin. Wisdom indeed! She was an unmitigated fool. Stooping, she too picked up an object, a fist-sized stone. Since his back was turned, she indulged her ire and flung it with all her might into the pond. It sank with a loud thwunk and a satisfyingly large splash. The poor swans fled the disturbance in a flurry of wings, honking protest.
Not wanting to endure censure over having abused the wildlife, she began walking. She’d only gone a few steps
, however, when a warm hand grasped her elbow—a hand that was just as quickly snatched back as though it couldn’t bear to touch her. She stopped, squeezing her eyes shut to prevent tears from starting.
“If I have given you offense, then please accept my apology,” said Sorin softly. “Truly, I did not mean to sound so condescending.”
She turned and looked up at him in anger and frustration. But his face was full of such remorse that she couldn’t stay wroth. The wind, as he would have said, had been taken out of her sails. “No. The fault is mine. You spoke of my ‘wisdom’ a moment ago, but I fear I must disagree with you and therefore make myself even more unpleasant.” His frown told her she’d only managed to confuse him further. She sighed. “Increasingly of late, I find myself prone to grossly misunderstanding the intentions of those around me, even those whom I have long known. Forgive my conduct just now. I reacted in a manner most unbecoming.”
“It seems we both suffer the same malady,” he replied heavily. “I, too, have been guilty of misinterpreting the words and actions of even my closest friends in recent days. Come,” he said, offering his arm. “Let us forget our shared inclination toward misperception and enjoy this fine day and each other’s company.”
“Agreed.” Indeed. She vowed from that moment on to never again read more into his words than what was on the surface. Taking his arm, she let him lead her out from beneath the willow branches and into the sunshine. She was sorely tempted to leave her parasol closed and just enjoy the warm sun on her skin. What was the point of preserving herself from freckles if he never looked at her with anything more than benign detachment? Vanity, however, won out in the end.
“Shall we see if the others would like to play a game of bowls?” he asked politely as she paused to open her parasol.
“Why not?” she answered in the same, too-light tone, reining in an urge to smack him with the contraption. It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t attracted to her.
Bollocks, but that was close! Sorin breathed a slow, silent sigh of relief. What in the seven hells was the matter with him, staring at her like that? Now she was all nervous and fidgety. Truly, he had not meant to sound like such a condescending ass, but as with just about every conversation he’d had with her of late, he’d said the wrong thing. “Will you be joining Mother for tea this week?” he asked in an attempt to keep her talking as they traversed the wide lawn between the pond and the house.
“I shall,” she answered, her gaze fixed on a point somewhere amid the colorful blankets and parasols dotting the green expanse.
“I’m glad. She’s looking forward to your weekly visits as she has not anticipated anything in years.”
“As am I,” she answered at once. “She also promised to introduce me to several friends with unattached sons and grandsons. Apparently, she’s in agreement with my cousin on the matter of my unwed state. She said it was high time I overcame my reticence.”
An icy fingertip brushed his spine. Did she, now? It took every scrap of control to keep his tone nonchalant. “I can only imagine that you will benefit greatly from her connections. She knows everyone of importance and has much influence.”
“I really ought to be more grateful for her sponsorship,” she mused, sounding contrite. “Charles will certainly be pleased, as will Rowena.”
