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“Eleanor, what is it?” Marion touched her shoulder. “You went off in your own world there.”
“I…”
Eleanor looked at Lady Brixton, who had brought out a fan and was using it on herself, watching the beautiful gardens in front of her. The gardener was out there with two of his workers, pruning a couple of hedges. Eleanor turned to Marion, lowering her voice to a whisper.
“Do you remember I mentioned a man who broke up a fight between some street children a couple of weeks back?”
“Yes, what…”
“Captain Reynolds was that man.”
Marion’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
“I thought I was. But Lady Brixton said he had only been in London a day, and there was no recognition at all when he looked at me.”
Reynolds had barely shown any sign that they knew each other. Either he was acting or he didn’t know her at all.
“You think he’s living a double life and doesn’t want his mother to know?” Marion asked.
“I’m not sure.” Eleanor then thought about something else that was giving her suspicions. “And then there’s the letter. Do you remember how it was signed?”
“Earl of Brixton…” Marion raised her eyebrows. “Which he doesn’t like using. You think someone’s playing both of you?”
“I don’t know. I’m certain this is the first time we’ve ever interacted.” Eleanor frowned. “But the marriage agreement seems to be genuine. I might as well see how it goes, even with my misgivings.”
“I suppose.” Marion grinned. “At least you’re marrying an honourable man. And a handsome one. That’s something.”
Eleanor didn’t respond to that. It was too early to think of either in good terms.
* * *
Eleanor was a pretty woman. Nathan had done his best not to stare when she first stepped out onto the terrace. Not too tall but not too short, slim with black hair that had a natural curl threatening to come away from her pins. She had a healthy glow to her, suggesting that she spent a lot of time outdoors.
Nathan was pleasantly surprised. Maybe having a wife wouldn’t be so bad, after all.
What had him concerned, though, was the way Eleanor had stopped short and stared at him like she had seen a ghost. It was clear she recognized him from somewhere, but Nathan had no idea from where. He would certainly remember meeting a woman like her. Then Eleanor recovered and turned into a cool, calm lady, no indication that she had reacted the way she had. Everything got put away, leaving composure and poise that Nathan had to admire. That switch was never that easy, and Eleanor had it down to a fine art.
In his mind, what solidified it more for him was the fact she called him Captain Reynolds. Right from the beginning. His mother would have tried to correct her in the beginning, but Nathan had put a stop to that. No matter what Vanity wanted, it was how he wanted to be addressed, and Eleanor respected that. He wanted to hear her call him what he wished.
God, what’s the matter with you? You’ll be wanting her to call you Nathan before the end of lunch.
Nathan pushed his thoughts aside. It was just a situation of convenience. Eleanor would understand that as well; she looked like an intelligent woman. They would work things out before the banns were published.
At least Lady Brixton had chosen well this time.
Lunch passed by pleasantly enough, the four of them taking it in the dining room. Vanity talked and talked a lot, and Nathan wondered if she was overdoing it. He had never witnessed his mother talk so much. It was almost like she was trying to impress Eleanor herself. Nathan barely got a word in. But Marion Laurie, Eleanor’s dark-haired companion, managed to parry her talk with questions of her own, essentially leaving the two of them to have an in-depth conversation while Nathan and Eleanor sat eating their food. Neither seemed prepared to break in; if anything, Eleanor seemed content to just eat and listen. Nathan was of the same mind.
They hadn’t spoken much, but Nathan was already forming an opinion. Eleanor was nervous, yes, but she was not pretentious. Nathan could tell that already. According to Vanity, Eleanor’s father was almost bankrupt, and they would be destitute soon if Eleanor wasn’t married off, but there was no indication that Eleanor was impressed by money. Vanity had spoken about finances several times, but there wasn’t a flicker of interest in Eleanor’s eyes. If anything, it was like she winced whenever it was brought up, as if she was ashamed.
While Marion and Vanity were still engrossed in conversation, Eleanor mumbled something and excused herself. She was looking a little red in the face and Nathan could see sweat on her brow. The dining room was incredibly warm, and Nathan had been sweating a little under his collar. No wonder Eleanor looked like she was about to faint.
He counted to twenty and then rose, excusing himself from his mother. Vanity barely noticed him; it appeared that she was enjoying her conversation with Eleanor’s companion, who was just as spritely. Nathan had to smile as he left the room. His mother had found a friend of her own.
Nathan found Eleanor on the back terrace, sitting at the table they had used earlier for tea. She was fanning herself with her hand, slumped back in her chair with her head back, tilting into the breeze. Not the most ladylike of positions, but Nathan couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Eleanor was not like any other woman he had encountered. Perhaps having her as a wife would be better than he anticipated.
“Lady Eleanor?”
Eleanor opened her eyes, still looking a little dazed. Then her gaze focused on him and her eyes widened. She jumped to her feet, knocking her chair over.
