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CHAPTER3
“Your ridiculous behavior,”Eleanor grumbled, imitating her brother’s furious words, as she slouched onto a stone bench. She had walked into the center of the gardens, and now she needed a break. Eleanor knew it was in her best interest to return to the ball, but she just couldn’t make herself do it. She gazed up at the half-moon that hung mournfully in the sky. “What shall I do?” She asked the silver half-orb that hovered over her, as if it were waiting for her to ask such a question.
“Do you make a habit of talking to yourself?” A rich male voice asked, and Eleanor jumped to her feet. She spun around, looking through the tall hedges and peering beyond the white gardenias that blossomed nearby. She gazed up at the moon, afraid that she might be imagining the voice she’d just heard. Eleanor shook her head, and then walked back to the seat she had just vacated. Still swiveling her eyes around the area cautiously, she slid back on the bench. “Just my imagination,” she murmured.
“I’m hardly a figment of your imagination,” the man spoke again and this time the speaker revealed himself. He stepped from behind a rose-covered trellis and walked over to Eleanor’s side.
She took a very deep breath and looked up at him. He was tall, even an inch or two taller than Frederick. He had dark brown hair that he wore in loose curls which swooped foppishly over his forehead. His blue eyes were gazing at her intensely, and they appeared almost silver in the brilliant moonlight. Eleanor rose, feeling her knees knock together underneath the thick folds of her heavy, satin gown, and she looked the stranger in the eye.
“Do I know you?” She asked pertly, appraising him still.
The man chuckled. “I should say so. Even when I try to get a moment to myself, I find you here. You are rather ubiquitous, Lady Eleanor.”
Eleanor narrowed her eyes at the man. “I feel as though we have met, and you know my name, but I cannot place yours. Who are you?” She asked daringly.
For a moment, he hesitated, and Eleanor felt her heartbeat faster. She liked the way his cool blue eyes bore into her own, and she thought him very handsome, indeed. She worried that she had met this man before and made an unfavorable impression. She glanced up at the moon and prayed that was not the case.
“My name is Henry,” the man said, introducing himself at last.
“And you say we have met before?” Eleanor questioned, screwing up her eyes as she allowed her memory to float back over the course of the evening. She searched for a man of her acquaintance named Henry, but no one came to mind.
“Yes, we met yesterday… in Hyde Park,” Henry replied, and he gave Eleanor a dashing smile.
“I don’t seem to recall meeting anyone yesterday…” Eleanor began, but then she stopped herself in the middle of her sentence. When she and her mother rode home to Barrow Hall, her mother scolded her for wading into the river to feed the ducks. But worse, her mother fretted over the abominable way she had treated the Duke of Lawson. Eleanor gasped as recognition washed over her.
“I must apologize, Your Grace,” Eleanor said, ducking her head, allowing her red hair to spill over and cover her red cheeks.
“Please, don’t,” Henry answered, moving to take a seat on the bench. Eleanor moved aside to give him space and she watched as he sank onto the smooth stone.
“But I fear I have made a bad impression on you, Your Grace,” Eleanor persisted, lowering herself onto the bench next to Henry.
His blue eyes looked tired, and his expression was ragged. “May I be honest with you, Lady Eleanor?”
“Yes,” Eleanor replied simply.
“I came out into the garden, seeking a moment of silence. Would you mind dreadfully leaving me to it?” Henry asked, looking at Eleanor desperately.
She snorted and folded her hands in her lap in a lady-like fashion. “I beg your pardon, your Grace, but I was here first.”
“What now?” Henry asked, his eyebrows arching in surprise.
“I came outside so I could be alone with my own thoughts, and you have disturbed my peace. I don’t think I should be the one to leave my spot now,” Eleanor replied, arching her own eyebrows in a challenging way.
Henry grinned at her and shifted on the bench. She felt his knee touch her own, and feeling emboldened, rather than put-off, Eleanor angled her body so that their knees remained touching, and she could look wholly into his face.
“Lady Eleanor, if you don’t mind my saying, you are a rather singular woman. You say and do exactly as you please.” Henry’s blue eyes lit up merrily and Eleanor smiled at him.
“I do believe the word ‘singular’ is used in place of the word ‘peculiar’ in this instance, but I don’t mind whichever you decide to apply to me. I am quite used to being called ‘odd’ and ‘unique’, too, should you determine those terms are more fitting,” Eleanor said smartly, dropping her eyes then and looking at her hands.
“I didn’t mean to imply anything of the sort. I find your spirit refreshing, truth be told,” Henry put in quickly. Eleanor lifted her head so she could look once more into his face. His eyes sparkled sincerely, and Eleanor chose to believe he was in earnest.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Eleanor said and bobbed her head courteously. She glanced around at the quiet garden and raised her head inhaling the fragrant flowers that surrounded them. “I suppose since you asked so kindly, and it would be rather scandalous if someone should happen upon us here together, that I ought to resign my position and leave you to your solitude.”
“I am greatly in your debt, Lady Eleanor,” Henry responded and when he smiled at Eleanor this time, she felt her pulse quicken.
She gave him a shy smile and then stood, letting her hands fall limply at her sides. “Well, perhaps we shall run into each other again soon,” Eleanor said and just as she was about to turn away from Henry, she heard a rustling in the hedges. She jumped and shrank away from the noise.
Henry stood then and turned his head toward the sound.
