AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Despite the way she was feeling, Eleanor allowed herself a small smile. She appreciated that Henry was giving her a little space and allowing her to permit him to enter, rather than forcing his way into the room.
She rose from the bed and went to the door. She gently eased it open the rest of the way and stepped aside so Henry could enter. “Please come in,” she breathed.
Henry stepped into the room and then he stood there, fidgeting with his hands. It seemed he couldn’t decide whether to hold them stiffly at his sides or to cross them in front of his body. Eleanor waited while he made himself comfortable and she thought of how boyish he seemed now. This Henry was nothing like the one who had appeared in her chambers on their wedding night. There were no presumptions. No expectations. He was here for her comfort, and that made him seem nervous and youthful.
Henry looked up at Eleanor then and his face became aggrieved. “You’ve been crying,” he said, his tone a mixture of a question and a declaration. He took two more steps toward her so that they were now very near to one another. Softly, as if she were made of glass, he lifted a hand and brushed it along her cheekbone. “This should not be,” Henry said sadly. He repeated the movement, removing the tears from her other side. “Tell me what I can do to make things better for you,” he whispered.
Eleanor took as deep of a breath as her corset would allow and then she held it for a moment. As Henry was standing so close to her, she could smell his masculine scent. He always smelled of the outdoors, but tonight she also caught a hint of peppermint, which for some reason made her relax at once. “I don’t know that you can remedy this situation. My family and I…” Eleanor started but then found herself overcome with fresh tears.
There was no way to explain to Henry the relationship she had with her brother and mother. She had never been her mother’s favorite, and that was fine, but sometimes she felt like her family members did not care for her at all. When they weren’t berating her, they were telling her how much of an embarrassment she was, and that was just as terrible.
As the tears began to cascade down her face in earnest, Henry took one more step toward her and held out his arms. She walked right into them and accepted his warm embrace. They stood in that manner for a few seconds and then Eleanor looped her arms around Henry’s neck. She cried into his shoulder, wiping her tears on his lapels.
“I’m so sorry, Henry,” Eleanor sobbed.
Henry pulled away from Eleanor minutely and brought one hand up to her chin. Using his index finger, he lifted her chin just a fraction of an inch so that she could look clearly into his eyes. The blue irises had darkened, and his stare was penetrating. “There is no need for you to apologize, Eleanor. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
Guilt twisted in Eleanor’s gut as she thought of how she had brought all her pets to the manor without his permission. “But I should have asked…” She began and Henry shook his head.
“No, please don’t. We’ve both made mistakes, and I know we are both sorry for what we’ve done. Let’s vow to start afresh… as of this very moment.”
“Yes, I agree. Thank you, Henry,” Eleanor said softly, and then she leaned back into his chest, allowing herself to enjoy being enclosed in his protective arms once more.
“Thankyou, Eleanor,” Henry whispered and the hand he had been using to hold up Eleanor’s chin floated to the back of her head. She felt the way his fingertips traced through her ringlet curls, but she did not flinch. This movement was tender and comforting, not lascivious. Henry was trying to reassure her, and she felt perfectly at ease in his presence.
Eleanor noted this sensation of perfect acceptance as it was one she had rarely ever experienced, not with Henry, and certainly not with her brother or mother. But here Henry was now, holding her in his arms, stroking her hair, and making her feel like she was the most perfect and exceptional woman in the world.
Eleanor sighed contentedly and allowed the embrace to last for a few moments longer. She and Henry only parted when her lady’s maid knocked on the door. Eleanor knew that Henry could have asked the servant to leave. He could have propositioned her, and she might not have turned him away, but he did not. He did not even give her any inclination to think that moving toward the bed was on his mind.
When the knock sounded on the door, Henry slowly, reluctantly, released Eleanor from his arms. “Good night, Eleanor. I hope you rest well,” he said quietly and then he opened the door to admit the lady’s maid. Eleanor stood in her chambers, her heart full and warm. She and Henry might not have the ideal relationship, but it was improving and that was something.
