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Whatever Henry’s grandmother had been expecting Eleanor’s mother to say, this had not been it. Her mouth opened in a perfect oval shape, astonishment clearly etched into her every feature. Recovering her wits quickly, the lady asked, “And so you are implying that I win the competition, not because my roses are the best, but because I bully the judges into selecting mine?”
“No,” Eleanor’s mother said quickly, “that’s not what I’mimplying. That’s what I’msaying.”
Eleanor gasped; she couldn’t stop the sound from escaping her lips. Never, in all her years, had she heard her mother be so deliberately confrontational. And to do this at Lawson Manor? It was one thing to speculate about why the Dowager Duchess of Lawson always won the rose competition in one’s own home, but to do it here? That was simply madness.
“Mother,” Eleanor rushed to recover. “Perhaps you should go lie down for a bit. You may have overexerted yourself this morning and I believe you could benefit from…”
Lady Barrow waved her hand through the air dismissively in Eleanor’s direction. “I assure you,” she said, tipping her chin up boldly, “I am quite well. I have been wanting to discuss this matter with the Dowager Duchess of Lawson for years, and now I find I finally have the chance.”
“How dare you?” Henry’s grandmother seethed. “I win those competitions every year because I take care of my roses. I spend time nurturing them.”
“As do I,” Lady Barrow returned spitefully. “And yet, every year when I arrive at the competition, with my blooms just as brilliant as yours, they never get a second look.”
“Perhaps if you spent more time looking after your eccentric daughter and less time weeding your gardens, your name might carry more weight in theton!” Henry’s grandmother exploded and it felt as though all noise drained from the room. Eleanor certainly reacted to those cold words as they weren’t so much just meant to injure her mother, but they were conjured to pierce her dignity as well.
“My daughter and my roses are not one and the same,” Lady Barrow returned cuttingly. “Do not suppose you know the first thing about either.”
The Dowager Duchess of Lawson’s hands shook in quiet rage. Her violet eyes darted from Eleanor’s mother’s face to Eleanor’s and then they landed on Henry’s. He was aghast by her behavior, as his face showed quite plainly. “Forgive me,” Henry’s grandmother said stiffly as she rose from the table. “I have lost my appetite. I shall be out with my perfect, award-winning roses, should anyone need me.” She gave Eleanor’s mother a twisted smile and then lifted her head into the air regally and waltzed carefully from the room.
Eleanor’s mother tried to lift a teacup to her lips for a quick sip, but her own hands were trembling. Hurriedly, she placed the teacup back on its saucer, spilling a bit. She turned to Frederick. “Excuse me,” she uttered quietly and left the room in a slightly less dignified fashion.
Eleanor and Henry stared at each other, both bewildered by the way their relatives had just behaved. Frederick raised his eyebrows at Eleanor, but then he shrugged. He took a small bite from a piece of toast and then said conversationally, “Now that we’ve effectively gotten out of seeing the rose gardens today, what do you say to a bit of sport? Shall we do any hunting, Your Grace?”
Henry smiled weakly at Eleanor down the table, and she felt as though that was his way of asking her permission. She nodded encouragingly at him. Even though Eleanor still disliked the sport greatly, she was eager to have the house to herself. This argument over the rose competition had been about more than the red, white, and pink blooms. It had opened the way for the Dowager Duchess to express how she really felt about Eleanor.
Even as a young girl, Eleanor had tried not to care what others thought of her, and she never craved the approval of the other ladies or gentlemen of theton, but to have Henry’s grandmother so openly admit that she found Eleanor lacking? That was hurtful, and Eleanor wanted to think more on the matter privately.
