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CHAPTER22
Eleanor couldn’t believe her own audacity. Her entire life, Eleanor felt as though her mother was unhappy with her. If she wasn’t reminding Eleanor to sit up straight, she was scolding her for eating too little. When she wasn’t preoccupied with Eleanor’s manners, she was focusing on her social skills. Eleanor was never quite vivacious enough. And of course, there had always been arguments over Eleanor’s peculiar interest in animals. Her mother had never looked at Eleanor’s pets as anything other than nuisances. She tolerated the cats, birds, and dogs, only so long as Eleanor kept very careful watch over them and never allowed them to run wild about the manor. But now, Eleanor decided she’d had enough. Her mother was now a guest, in Eleanor and Henry’s home, and yet… she couldn’t leave well enough alone.
The Dowager Countess of Barrow had just finished lecturing Eleanor on the importance of brushing out one’s hair at the end of the day (as if Eleanor would try to leave her hair in its complicated style while she slept) when the young lady decided she’d had quite enough.
“Mother, tell me plainly: why don’t you like me?”
The Dowager Countess had been fiddling with a lock of her own hair when Eleanor asked this question. She seemed mildly surprised but entirely taken aback. For just a moment, she averted her eyes and stared off into the fire. Then, she turned back to Eleanor.
Maybe this is why. Maybe she doesn’t like how I ask impertinent questions. Or maybe it’s because she is so much like Frederick.
Eleanor observed her mother now and saw how she was like Frederick. The Dowager Countess of Barrow had lively green eyes and burnt-reddish hair color. It might have once been thought of as auburn, but age had dulled the sheen. Eleanor closed her eyes for a moment, and pictured Caroline sitting next to her mother. They would have been nearly identical, except for the years separating them. Eleanor, with her pale complexion, blue eyes, and red hair looked so little like her siblings and their mother. Perhaps this difference caused the annoyance.
But it was none of those things.
The Dowager Countess took a deep breath and then she said, “You are an embarrassment.”
Eleanor’s breath caught in her throat. “I am an embarrassment? How so?”
Her mother cast a sardonic look in her direction. “Do you really have to ask?”
Eleanor felt the apples of her cheeks flame crimson. She lifted her left hand to rub on the spot. “I know that you never liked my animals, but…”
The Dowager Countess fluttered her hand through the air dismissively. “Your animals were the least of my worries.” She paused and looked at Eleanor closely. “Don’t misunderstand, your pets have been the source of my anxiety on many occasions. For instance, this horrible business with the Dowager Duchess’ prized roses.” She exhaled deeply and tipped her head back as if she were looking to the heavens for guidance.
“You know that was not my fault,” Eleanor said feebly. “You know I had no control over my goats. If I could have, I would have prevented them from getting into the garden.”
“That’s just it, Eleanor. You think nothing is ever your fault. Ever since Caroline…” Her mother stopped. It was as if she hadn’t meant to utter her eldest child’s name and as soon as it was out of her mouth, she wished she could put it back. She cleared her throat delicately. “Ever since Caroline passed, you have behaved as though you didn’t care what people thought of you or your family.”
“What does Caroline have to do with my behavior?” Eleanor asked, feeling dumbfounded. She had been so young when her sister died. She could hardly think of how she might have changed or how her behavior might have altered.
“You don’t remember?” Her mother whispered.
Eleanor shook her head.
The Dowager Countess sighed deeply. “Of course, you don’t recall. You were just a girl. Caroline passed so unexpectedly and then your father… he… left us, too. A friend came to the house one day. Her name was Lady Walington. She brought you a kitten. Do you remember that?”
“No,” Eleanor replied simply.
“The cat’s name was Sir Whiskers. He was but a few days old. Lady Walington thought if you had a companion, a friend, you might adjust to all the sadness. By giving you that cat, she thought she was doing you a great favor.”
Eleanor searched her memory. She couldn’t recall a Lady Walington ever visiting the house, nor did she remember that she had been given Sir Whiskers. Certainly, she would have been old enough to remember such a thing, but for some reason, the memory was locked away. “Shediddo me a great favor,” Eleanor said quietly.
“No, she did not,” the Dowager Countess snapped. “From the moment Sir Whiskers came to our house, your entire attitude changed. You were not content with one cat, but you had to have another. Then, you couldn’t be happy with just cats—you also had to have birds.”
Eleanor nodded. “Yes, I do remember that I started collecting pets rather quickly.”
“I could have lived with all the animals if your personality had not also altered.”
“My personality?” Eleanor asked.
The Dowager Countess let out a small groan. “You don’t really think you were born with this notion never to eat meat, do you? That was something that developed shortly after Lady Walington gave you Sir Whiskers. You decided it was too cruel to eat animals. Then, you developed other, more bizarre habits.”
“Like what?” Eleanor questioned.
The Dowager Countess narrowed her eyes at Eleanor. “In all your years, have you ever seen another young lady step out into the serpentine in Hyde Park?”
Eleanor felt her cheeks heat up once more. “I was feeding the ducks.”
