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“No, he isn’t. This man is an Earl.”
“An Earl needs help finding a wife?” Eleanor groaned. “God, you’ve got me matched to an old man! Father!”
“No, he’s not old. Young, in fact. Only a little older than you.” Her father stepped towards her, still swaying a little. “My benefactor said that he’s a good man, and he will be able to provide for you.”
“That’s what they always say.” Eleanor snapped. “We don’t know if he’s Bluebeard, like the man in those stories you and Mother told me when I was a girl.”
Edward Heavenly sighed. “You read too many stories, Eleanor. It’s not going to be that bad. Besides, you need someone to look after you.”
Eleanor bristled. “I can look after myself.”
“That’s not what I meant. You need someone who isn’t old and drunk.”
“You’re not old, Father.”
Edward Heavenly flinched. “You ignored the drunk part.”
Eleanor did, because nobody needed to say it out loud. She had gotten through life without needing a husband, and her father hadn’t broached it before. One night playing cards and meeting a strange man willing to pay off his debts if he could help a friend find a wife and her father was suddenly on the marriage bandwagon.
There had to be something wrong with the Earl. If he was her age, there had to be a reason he couldn’t find a wife. Maybe he was disfigured, or just plain ugly. Or he had a physical disability. There had to be something going on. There was certainly a catch to the money, and it wasn’t an arranged marriage to someone Eleanor had never met.
Something was going on here, and Eleanor didn’t like it. But from the look on her father’s face, he wasn’t about to be argued with. He was looking like the man Eleanor remembered before her mother died. Someone who put his foot down and expected to be obeyed. He had been a good man back then. This shadow of a man was starting to come back into his old self.
Eleanor wasn’t sure what to think about that.
“I don’t need a husband, Father.”
“Yes, you do and that’s the end of the matter.” Edward Heavenly pressed his fingers to his head. “Now, would you go, please? I’ve got a splitting headache and talking is making it worse.”
Eleanor knew she was being dismissed. And she didn’t want to go. She wanted to argue this out. But Eleanor could see that her father was in no fit state to talk. When the headache had faded, she would be back to give him an even bigger headache.
She left the room, making sure to slam the door behind her.
Chapter Nine
Simon’s barber worked his magic and the more hair he cut off, the more human Nathan began to feel. They had men on the battlefield who could cut hair and shave people, but after witnessing one of these servants slice the throat of an officer on orders from the French, Nathan backed off from that rapidly. It was a one-off, the young man having been bought by the French to infiltrate the British army, and the officer did live, but Nathan wasn’t about to take the chance again. Hence why he looked like he had been on an island with Robinson Crusoe.
Soon, Nathan found himself looking into the mirror and seeing a completely different face. He barely remembered what he looked like when he was properly groomed, and it didn’t look too bad. He could certainly walk through the streets and not worry that someone was going to give him a strange look. Soldiers were held in high regard, but the image of a soldier was someone who didn’t look like they had been living in the wilderness for months.
No need to burst their bubble.
“I must say, that’s looking much better.” Simon’s tone was approving as he paid for Nathan’s cut. “You look less like a wild man and more like a man of society now.”
“I wish I didn’t have to look like anyone in society at all.” Nathan grumbled. “I prefer the soldier title.”
“You’re going to have fun getting people to follow that. Noble titles come first.”
Nathan knew that, and he wasn’t looking forward to correcting everyone who spoke to him with his title of Lord Brixton. It sounded like it was for someone else. Captain Reynolds was his name, the captain part a title he had earned through his own blood and sweat. Lord Brixton was inherited, and it just told people what area of London he oversaw. Didn’t really make Nathan feel like anything special. Just a shell.
His soldier side made him feel like a man.
Nathan pressed some more money into the barber’s hand as he left, making the man’s eyes widen in shock.
“That’s a little extra for doing a good job.” Nathan rubbed at his jaw. “I’ll certainly be coming by here again.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
The barber was still looking at Nathan in a daze as Nathan left the shop with Simon. Simon passed Nathan his rifle, hoisting Nathan’s bag over his shoulder.
