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The man shrugged.
“He is,” Wesley said cheerfully. “Not that you’ll ever hear him brag about it.”
Delightful. Hugh sighed. Hopefully if Irene did take it into her head to complain to her unofficial big brother, Wesley would be able to hold the man off long enough to allow Hugh to explain. It seemed that the two of them had formed a fairly solid friendship, especially if Wesley were comfortable talking with Lord Brooke about his wife. Everyone in the ton knew that you did so at your own peril.
******
The invitations had gone out and responses were already coming back in. Eleanor wished that her parents could be at the dinner welcoming Irene and Hugh back, but both of them were still in Bath. Actually she was rather surprised that her father at least wasn’t back in London by now; he’d never before spent this much time away from the city with her mother. Granted, from what Edwin had told her there wasn’t anything pressing being discussed on the political front currently, but she still hadn’t expected her father to spend so much time dancing attendance on her mother. She hoped he wasn’t feeling ill – after all, an extended stay in Bath with her mother could be cover for his need for the healing waters of the small city if he was sickly.
She made a mental note to write a letter to her mother. It had been awhile since she’d last written anyway.
Turning her attention back to the responses, she counted them out and smiled. Nearly everyone she had invited was coming. Including Lord Brooke. She made a little face because she didn’t particularly want to see him again, even if she was curious about why he was still in the city. At least she would be able to see how he and her new sister-in-law interacted.
Not that she could do anyth
ing if it turned out that Grace was right and Irene was in love with the man. But perhaps she could warn Hugh. Or help to keep Irene and Lord Brooke apart until Irene and Hugh’s relationship could be solidified.
Then again, knowing her brother, he would be just as happy retreating to the countryside with his wife and staying out of the city entirely. Although he enjoyed occasional city life, he was much happier on the estates with his horses and dogs, interacting with the tenants and occasionally getting his hands dirty. A little dirt had never bothered her either, when she was younger, she remembered almost wistfully. Now she could barely conceive of getting on her knees and grubbing in the mud – after all, her dresses would be ruined… but she could still go riding and walking.
The Season in London was exciting, but part of her was yearning for the pure bright sunshine of the countryside, the lazier days, the calmer pursuits. The endless round of balls and parties were exciting and beautiful, but they were also exhausting and occasionally painful. Especially if the gentlemen asking her to dance were not very adept on the dance floor.
This dinner was going to be one of the quieter and more exclusive events, which suited Eleanor just fine. She’d been working hard on gathering the necessary foods and decorations to make it a lavish and elegant affair. It seemed that all of her hard work was going to pay off.
If only things were going so well with her marriage.
Despite numerous hints that she’d made to her husband over the past couple of weeks that she had feelings for him that went beyond mere affection, passion, or a prolonged attachment left over from childhood friendship, he had said nothing in return. Indeed, there had been times when he’d seemed almost confused by her attempts at sparking a conversation in such a vein. He didn’t thwart such declarations, but neither could his responses be called encouraging.
Yet he continued to lave passion on her nightly, he danced attendance on her at every event, and he’d recently bought her the most stunning diamond bracelet for no reason at all. If only she could be sure of the sentiment behind his actions… instead she was elated and downtrodden by turns. Jealous whenever he danced with another woman, despite knowing that it was a social necessity. Furious whenever one of his reputed former mistresses dared to approach him, even though he always received their greetings coldly and swiftly sent them on their way without her interference or insistence. Thrilled when he refused to quit her side, miserable when he relinquished her to another’s care while he continued his conversation with whatever Lord he was speaking. Even more miserable when she noticed that he didn’t seem to suffer the same throes of jealousy that wracked her.
If only he’d come out and say how he truly felt about her, then she would be either the happiest woman alive or the most miserable, but at least she’d be able to move forward!
“My lady?” Mrs. Hester came into the room, interrupting Eleanor’s thoughts as if she’d sensed their turn towards the melancholy. Somehow the older woman often seemed to make timely interruptions when Eleanor was depressing herself, as if her position as housekeeper had somehow sensitized her to knowing when something was amiss in the household.
“Yes Mrs. Hester?” Eleanor said, putting down the list of responses that had been made. She was only waiting on one or two more.
“There’s a problem with the linens – it seems the mice have gotten into them and ruined about half of them. We can order more but they may not be quite the same make. Cook says the recent crop of strawberries isn’t nearly high enough quality for the tarts you wanted, he thinks they’ll do better as jam, but that leaves us without a dessert…” The housekeeper rattled on as Eleanor forced herself to pay attention to the various problems about the household.
The linens weren’t a major emergency, she could just change the color scheme for the dinner if she didn’t have the time or inclination to purchase new ones in the lovely cream color that she’d initially chosen. However the lack of decent strawberries made her frown. She’d so wanted to make up her last dinner’s food choices to Edwin by incorporating some of his favorites into this one. Tarts might not be considered the most elegant of foodstuffs, but they were one of Edwin’s favorites and Cook did a marvelous job of making them more fanciful by adding chocolate and cream toppings.
Would he even notice the amount of effort that she’d put into this dinner? The attention that she’d put towards the menu? As much attention as she’d put towards the last dinner but in a completely different way. Even the colors that she’d put together were the ones she’d noticed he’d complimented the most in her dress or when they’d seen them at others’ events.
Would he notice? Would he care?
“My lady?” Mrs. Hester asked hesitantly and Eleanor shook herself.
“Yes, Mrs. Hester, I’m sorry, my mind wandered. Let’s start with the linens. What other options do we have here in the house?” Forcing herself to concentrate, Eleanor turned her attention back to making her dinner a success rather than thinking about the possible reward if she actually managed it.
The two of them walked down as they discussed their options.
******
To Irene’s dismay, like the manors they’d stayed in on their honeymoon, the house in Mayfair had also been prepared with only one bedroom. She had been utterly humiliated the last night of their honeymoon when she’d discovered that, while she might want to shut Hugh out emotionally, she had been all too easily swept away physically. Considering the layout of the townhouse, it would have been no trouble to prepare the mistress’ bedroom, but the room was cold and there were no linens on the bed; whereas Hugh’s room had obviously been made up to be comfortable for both of them. Some of her furniture from her parent’s house had even been moved in, and the room was more than spacious enough to accommodate all of it.
In some ways it warmed her heart to see how he had moved aside his own things to make way for hers, but she hardened herself against that softening of emotion. Now that she knew his gentle kindness was just a foil for another side to him! She was still amazed that there was no mark or even lingering soreness in her backside, which made her wonder if perhaps she had overdrawn the situation… after all, it’s not like he had marked her the way she’d seen Malvin caning that poor maid…
But then she reminded herself that the spanking wasn’t the point anyway. The point was that she loved Alex and Hugh had almost made her forget that, or at least question it. Alex, who was the perfect gentleman. A true white knight who would never treat a lady so. Just look at how he tolerated his shrewish wife’s transgressions! Irene was sure that if Lady Grace wasn’t such a harpy then Alex would never have the need for mistresses – although she reminded herself that she was glad of such a need. Otherwise there would be no hope for her.
She wasn’t even sure if she cared about ensuring Hugh’s line of descent anymore either. After all, Lady Brooke hadn’t born Alex any heirs and she moved about easily enough in Society. Only the highest-steppers declined to invite her company. If Irene had Alex’s company then what did she care for others?
