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"What's going on between Lady Grace and Miss Chandler?"
"Going on?" she echoed. For a moment the heat of anger flared in Edwin's eyes and she realized that it sounded like she was prevaricating. Shaking her head she tried to think. "I don't know, I didn't even know they were acquainted. Are you sure there's something going on?"
The tight hold his fingers had around her arm relaxed a little bit as he studied her face, seeing the honesty. Of course Eleanor could lie when she needed to, but he'd taken her by such surprise that her expression was completely open.
"There's definitely something going on," he said, his voice still rather grim. "Keep them away from each other. And we will be having a discussion about this evening’s dinner later tonight."
And then he let her go. Shaken but knowing that she needed to attend to her guests, Eleanor hurried away to the drawing room where she found that Grace had seated herself on the settee speaking with Eleanor's mother and Mrs. and Miss Brething, while Mrs. and Miss Chandler were conversing closer to the fireplace with Lady Moore. Wondering what Edwin had thought was the problem, Eleanor went to join Lady Grace's circle first.
The idle chatter about the latest fashion plates should have taken up most of her attention, normally she adored talking fashion - especially with Grace who always looked absolutely divine, but the conversation just reminded her of the dress she was currently wearing. Indeed, as the discussion continued she became more and more aware of her mother's and Mrs. Brething's disapproving glances at her neckline, accompanied by Matilda's wide-eyed occasional stares and blushes. Eleanor was quite sure that Matilda was picturing herself in a similar dress. Color rose in Eleanor's cheeks as she decided that she'd entertained these ladies long enough and quietly slipped away to join the other circle, holding her head high.
Lady Moore was holding forth about her husband's latest horse purchase, which seemed to interest Mrs. Chandler quite a bit and Miss Chandler not at all. And yet Miss Chandler seemed perfectly content to sit and listen to the older matron's conversation rather than joining the other circle and discussing fashion. Perhaps there was something going on between Miss Chandler and Lady Grace, Eleanor couldn't imagine any other reason that Miss Chandler would still be sitting here.
"So we're to be sisters," she said brightly, after exchanging the usual pleasantries. The two older ladies had quickly delved back into their conversation, allowing Eleanor the opportunity to speak a little aside to Miss Chandler. "Have you started planning the wedding yet?"
"Oh yes, thank you for asking Lady Hyde." said Miss Chandler rather shyly. "My mother speaks of nothing else these days."
"Please, call me Eleanor," she said impulsively reaching out and taking Miss Chandler's hand. "There's no need to stand on ceremony when we're going to be sisters soon."
"Then you must call me Irene," said Miss Chandler, but Eleanor didn't miss the way Irene's eyes slid over to Grace for a moment before returning to Eleanor. Was she worried that Grace had said something about her? "I always wanted a sister closer to my age."
"Hugh mentioned to me that you had younger sisters, but he didn't say how old they were."
"Rosalie is fourteen and Miranda is twelve. My brother Alfred is sixteen and I was always rather disappointed that he wasn't a girl."
Both of them giggled.
"I always wanted a sister, period," confessed Eleanor. "I always thought Hugh was rather useless, it never occurred to me until recently that he could provide me with the sister that my parents hadn't."
"Ah yes," said Irene, although the light in her green eyes dimmed a little. Her smile seemed just a tad less bright and Eleanor couldn't help but wonder why. "But your new husband does not have any sisters?"
"No, he's an only child. I think that's why he became so attached to Hugh and their friend Wesley. The three of them are more like brothers than anything else. I used to think that he only saw me as an annoying little sister but..." Eleanor's voice trailed off as she blushed, realizing that her thoughts and conversation had almost turned to a place that was not entirely appropriate.
"So you're a love match?" asked Irene, her voice a little skeptical.
"No." Giving a little cough Eleanor tried to blunt the sharpness in her voice, pas
ting a false social smile on her face. "No ah... we're just, we've known each other for so long. We're... companions, I suppose you could say. We've known each other for so long that we do care for one another of course." She gave a light little laugh that felt and sounded rather hollow.
Irene nodded as if Eleanor had confirmed something she'd already known. "That's the most one can expect I suppose." She leaned into Eleanor conspiratorially. "Can I tell you a secret? And you won't tell anyone, not even Hugh?"
"Of course," Eleanor said, leaning in.
"And not Lady Brooke, please," said Irene, her eyes sliding back over to the other circle of females.
"Is there something between the two of you? Edwin had mentioned that it might be best if the two of you weren't seated as closely as you had been at dinner."
"We don't get along," said Irene firmly.
Eleanor nodded. "She is one of my dearest friends but I know she does not get along with everyone. Still, dear friend or not, you may trust me because I am sure that we are going to become the best of friends and soon we're going to be sisters. I will not betray your confidence."
"Thank you," Irene reached out and gave Eleanor's hand a small press, her voice lowering even further as the two young ladies leaned close to each other. Not that the matrons seated with them were paying at all attention to their conversation but it was obvious that Irene didn't want to risk anyone overhearing the slightest word. "I used to hope for a love match but from my observations they happen rarely, if at all. I think that companionship or friendship is the best one can hope for in a marriage. Do you think that Hugh will be content with that?"
Now Eleanor hesitated. She knew very well that Hugh was already more than a bit smitten with his bride to be, on the other hand smitten didn’t exactly denote love. Perhaps he could be content with a wife who wanted nothing more than companionship or friendship? But then what if he wanted something passionate, something intense, something… something like what she and Edwin had? Or what if he wanted an adoring wife like their mother?
Unfortunately, before she could think of how to answer Irene, the drawing room door opened to admit Banks with the tea and the men following behind. Edwin entered in the middle of the pack, immediately drawing her eye. He looked every inch the handsome gentleman in his claret waistcoat and evening dress, a small smile on his face as he scanned the room. Seeing that Eleanor was seated with Miss Chandler and Lady Grace was on the other side of the room he gave his wife a small nod of approval, which for some reason only grated on her.
The whole point of this evening, after all, was to make him angry and force him to realize that his disciplinary tactics weren’t working. She wasn’t supposed to be doing things to get his approval, but at the same time she realized that part of her wanted to. Which just frightened her even more. Was she already turning into her mother after only a few weeks of marriage? Did this mean that she loved him?
