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Cursing under his breath, he fished out a fistful of coins, not bothering to count them and dumped them on the vanity table. Then he marched out of the room. Foster would marry Demeter over his dead body.
Chapter Nineteen
“You know, youhavebeen spending rather a lot of time with Mr. Blake.” Eleanor looped two fingers on both hands and interlocked them over and over, her gaze cast low.
Spread upon the table were various metal objects. Demeter didn’t know the significance of any of them—there were lots of cogs and strange looking coils and smooth plates of metal—but knowing Eleanor, within a few days it would be something beautiful or functional or would play a tune. The house was home to varying contraptions put together by her sister—some of them designed deliberately, some of them rather put together by accident.
Demeter watched the movement of her sister’s fingers and tried to ignore the flutter of her heart at the mention of Blake. It took all her willpower not to sink onto the nearest chair to support her weak knees.
Another meeting, another kiss. But what did it all mean?
“You have no need to worry,” Demeter started.
Eleanor’s gaze lifted to hers. “He’s a rake, Demeter. And you are...”
“A wallflower. I know.” Entirely opposite and utterly unlikely to ever have a future together. Oh yes, she knew it all. It did not stop her foolish mind from leaping forward a hundred impossible steps, though. She bit back a sigh.
“Actually, I meant that you are so lovely and kind, and he could take advantage of that.”
“Do you really think me so foolish?” She said the words automatically, feeling her heckles rise.
Perhaps she really was a fool. After all, what woman would share two kisses with the most renowned rake in England and picture anything other than a torrid affair? And even that was a foolish thought. Rakes did not have affairs with wallflowers.
“You are one of the cleverest women I know.” Eleanor waved a hand. “But, Demeter, I know you think me rather in a world of my own…”
“That is not—”
“And with Chastity and Cassie married, it is just us two.”
“W-well, yes—”
“And you are older than me.”
Demeter frowned. “I’m not certain—”
Eleanor had always been closest to Cassie. They’d practically grown up together. However, she did not think of herself as completely ignorant to her sister’s ways. Eleanor was more bluestocking than wallflower, not caring if she hugged the walls at balls, and preferring her own pursuits. The past year, they muddled along quite nicely just the two of them. Today, though, she did not understand her one bit.
“I do not wish to try to give you advice,” Eleanor said, “but I feel I must. Chastity would not be happy with me if I let this continue without speaking up.”
“Let what happen, Eleanor? You have no need for concern.” The words felt a lie.
She glanced toward the window as the doorbell rang. “I really think I do.”
Scowling, Demeter moved to the window and pressed her palms to the windowsill, leaning forward to eye the front door. She couldn’t see who was there but she saw the brightly painted carriage pulling around the back of the building.
Blake.
She looked at Eleanor and winced inwardly when a knowing look came across her face. Her sister rose from the table and put a hand to her arm. “Just be careful, Demeter. A man like that does not get a reputation for nothing.”
“I know,” Demeter whispered.
“I shall find Aunt Sarah so she can be nearby. Goodness knows you are lucky Anton is not home. I doubt he would allow the man near you.”
“I know,” she repeated huskily.
And with Anton, she would put his response down to how blasted stuffy the man could be—but if Eleanor was warning her against him, she should heed it. Her sister had about the most rational mind amongst them all.
Hands twined in front of her, she waited, gaze upon the half-open door. Her pulse throbbed so hard she felt it in her fingers. Each creak of a door and every footstep and murmur made it beat harder.
