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“Why, thank you, Henry,” Eleanor replied, her voice soft with wonder. She must not have anticipated him to give her this kind of concession, but he could tell she appreciated it. Her eyes narrowed then, and her tone hardened slightly, “You know, I’m entirely irrational. After all, I understand how life works. All things must die and sometimes, when they do, other animals consume them so they can continue living. I am not unreasonable or without intelligence.” Eleanor paused and took a deep breath. “It is just that I do not think we need to treat animals in such an inhumane manner. If a pig must be slaughtered so the family may eat of it, that it is acceptable, but must it suffer? Must we mock it in such a grotesque manner, as Frederick did the duck this morning?”
Henry was moved by Eleanor’s speech, and he had never thought of eating in such profound ways. He ate meat because it was on his plate, and it was delicious. He didn’t consider the animal who died so that he might eat of it. “Will it make you feel better if I promise that we shall not eat duck tonight at dinner?” Henry asked, suddenly conscious of how serious their conversation had become, and he wanted to lighten the mood.
Eleanor glanced at him sideways and the right side of her mouth quirked up as if she wanted to smile. “Infinitely.”
He laughed then and relaxed his arm around her shoulder. She snuggled into him, once again laying her head upon his firm chest, and they spent the rest of the morning and all the early afternoon in this splendid manner.
Henry could not remember ever feeling this happy and fulfilled in all his life. He had known beautiful women and spent many hours in the company of ladies he admired, but no one touched his heart and soul as Eleanor did. She spoke eloquently on many subjects, and he felt perfectly at ease expressing his own thoughts, knowing that whatever he shared with her would remain between just the two of them. This was a luxury neither of them had ever experienced before as Henry’s grandmother loved to spread gossip and Eleanor’s dearest friend, Rosalin, was just as likely to whisper away any secrets Eleanor might share.
As the afternoon ended and a brisk wind blew across the water, Henry hugged Eleanor tighter, feeling her shiver. She had raced from the house so quickly she had not brought a spencer, nor any other jacket and she was without long sleeves. He took off his own coat and offered it to her. She sank into it gratefully. Henry turned to look at her and he laughed lightly. She was positively swimming in his jacket, as he was both taller and larger than she.
He hopped up from their grassy spot and wandered down toward the pond. Growing next to the water was a smattering of wildflowers. Soft purples, vivid yellows, and vibrant pinks caught his eye, but he plucked the palest blue flower he could find. It reminded him of Eleanor’s lovely eyes, and he thought it would look very pleasing next to her creamy white skin.
“For you, Your Grace,” Henry said, rushing back to Eleanor’s side. He knelt beside her and offered her the flower.
She blushed prettily and then accepted it with a gracious nod. “Thank you.” She held the wildflower by the stem and then tucked it near the top button on his jacket. She bent her head then and inhaled the perfume of the flower deeply. When she glanced back up at him, her eyes were shining brilliantly.
