“White hydrangeas will be placed at the corners,” the Dowager Duchess told them. “When decorating this room, you can go for elegance and drama. There’s plenty of space for it.”
Eleanor was silent. The walls in here were open all of the way to the roof. There was a glass dome, just like in the foyer. The walls were cream, with gilt accents.
There were large, magnificent oil paintings. She wondered who they were. What their lives had been like. They looked down at them with wide eyes. Blue eyes, like Aaron’s.
“We shall have the refreshments in the great hall,” the Dowager Duchess was saying, “so that there will be room in the ballroom for at least fifteen to twenty couples to dance.”
“So many,” Lady Julia murmured. To Eleanor, she seemed nervous. She was much quieter than she usually was.
“Yes. We’ve sent out enough invitations to have at least that many,” the Dowager Duchess assured her.
“Now, we need to talk about what you shall wear, My Dear.”
“I have a champagne silk,” Lady Julia said. “Empire-waisted, with French lace at the décolletage.”
“Ah, yes. That sounds perfect. Perhaps with a black silk ribbon at your waist,” the Dowager Duchess added, beaming. “And my diamond necklace.”
Eleanor was amazed. The necklace seemed to be a part of the Dowager Duchess. That was a compliment indeed. Something that Eleanor knew she could never hope for. The Dowager Duchess would never acknowledge Eleanor, and she knew it.
“You know how to arrange her hair properly?” the Dowager Duchess asked, looking at Eleanor for the first time.
“Eleanor is very good with hair,” Lady Julia assured her. Eleanor smiled demurely, her eyes on the floor.
“I will lend you an ostrich feather,” the Dowager Duchess said.
“Thank you for allowing me to wear your necklace,” Lady Julia said.
“Of course, My Dear,” the Dowager Duchess replied. “Now, I need to go and see that my cook has the correct shopping list. I will see you at dinner.”
With that, she swept out of the room, leaving Lady Julia and Eleanor to stand and look around themselves.
“It’s going to be perfect,” Lady Julia murmured, her eyes wide.
“It will,” Eleanor agreed. With that, Lady Julia burst into tears.
Chapter 30
Julia allowed Eleanor to usher her out of the ballroom, and out onto the terrace, which overlooked the gardens. She leaned against the stone balustrade, sobbing.
“Come,” Eleanor said softly, guiding Julia out and into the garden. They walked along the path, until they were in the orchard, where the trees blocked them from view.
Eleanor stood beside her while she let her emotions flow free. Julia was not used to having such an outburst, but she felt as though her emotions had grown wild over the past few weeks.
“My Lady?” Eleanor asked, softly. Julia sighed, inhaling the sweet scent of the apples. She looked at the ground, where a bee had landed on a fallen piece of fruit.
“I’m supposed to be excited,” Lady Julia murmured. “But I just feel as though the walls are closing in around me, Eleanor.” The Dowager Duchess meant for the engagement to be announced at the ball. Even though she knew that Julia was falling in love with Jack!
It felt like Julia was being brought to her own life sentencing. She wondered who the Dowager Duchess actually cared about. Sometimes, she seemed to be caring. At others, she was cold and calculating.
“What’s wrong, My Lady?” Eleanor asked. Lady Julia took in deep breaths, accepting the handkerchief that her lady’s maid handed to her.
“I will have more prestige and power than I could have ever wanted, Eleanor. To be the Duchess of Durnsott means something.”
Julia looked over at her maid. Eleanor’s brows creased, and she was biting her lip nervously. Julia knew that her maid was trying to come up with some sort of comforting advice. However, she wouldn’t be able to. There was nothing that could fix this.
“The only problem is, it doesn’t mean something to me,” Julia went on. “It means everything to my Father, though.” She dabbed at her eyes, sniffling.
Whoever cried because they were going to have an advantageous marriage? Julia wondered. After all, the Duke was not only titled, but good-looking and kind. Julia should have been thankful.
A gardener was walking along the path, a rake over his shoulder. He was whistling to himself.
“My Father will never change his mind,” Julia continued in a low voice, in case someone overheard her. “He sees me as a chess piece, and if I’m a Duchess, then I’m like the Queen. I will be moved wherever and however he wishes me to.” She breathed in, deeply. Her corset felt tighter than usual.
“What we ladies do for those that we love,” she murmured, dabbing at her eyes. For she did love and respect her father, no matter what he was putting her through in order to get his tariffs scheme approved in Parliament.
“You don’t think he’ll listen to you, My Lady?” Eleanor asked.
“No. The only thing I might be able to do is to put it off,” she said, suddenly getting an idea, “until after the ball.”
“It’s an idea,” Eleanor murmured. Julia wondered what she could possibly do, given a few extra days. Or, perhaps, what Jack would be able to convince her father of.
“Yes,” Julia said. “That’s exactly what I’ll do.” She would certainly have a moment to convince Jack to speak with her father, at the ball.
She sniffled, looking down at the handkerchief, which she was twisting in between her hands. It was her own, monogrammed with her initials and a pale-pink rose.
“He doesn’t even look at me, Eleanor,” she whispered. “If he’s going to be my husband, shouldn’t he look at me like he desires me, at least a little?” She felt desolate. Here she was, in love with the brother of the Duke. The Duke, while kind to her, didn’t seem in the least bit interested in her.
Now, Eleanor looked devastated. Julia reached out, taking Eleanor’s hand in her own. She squeezed it, giving her a brave smile. “I’m glad that you’re here,” she said. “You always listen.”
“I’m happy to be of assistance, My Lady,” Eleanor replied in a small voice.
Julia felt better. A little bit more hopeful. The Dowager Duchess was always telling her to find her power. There were few things that Julia could do alone. But with Jack’s help, maybe they could change things together.
Aaron and Jack attended Mr. Northrup’s funeral together. It was a warm, sunny day. The little old town cemetery was packed with servants from Myrtlegrove Manor, as well as local townsfolk. Aaron and his brother stood near to the widow and Northrup’s twelve-year-old son, Simon.
Aaron recalled his own father’s funeral, which had been in this very cemetery, five years prior. Jack had been about the same age as the Northrup lad, give or take a year. Aaron himself had been a full-grown gentleman. He knew that it had been hard on Jack.
I wonder if he’s thinking the same. He leaned heavily on his cane. His knee throbbed. It was the longest he’d been out in over a week. After the coffin was lowered into the earth, the crowd in the cemetery began to disperse.
Aaron hobbled over to Mrs. Northrup with Jack at his side. He felt like an old man, tottering about. He was already exhausted, but duty demanded that he pay his respects.
She curtsied to him.
“I am so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Northrup,” he told her, “and yours as well, Simon.”
The boy nodded, his eyes on the ground. He was a younger version of his father.
“Your Grace,” Mrs. Northrup said. She was dressed in black, her brown hair tucked into a simple black bonnet. “It’s so kind of you to come, even though you’re hurt.”
“It’s the least that I could do. Northrup has worked for the Durnsott estate since I was a child myself.” He pulled a folded packet out of his inside jacket pocket. “Here,” he said, “to help you through this difficult time.” Wrapped in a sheet of paper, there was a b
undle of pound notes.
“That’s so kind of you, Your Grace,” she said, accepting it.
“If you need employment,” he offered. “We would be happy to have you and the boy at Myrtlegrove Manor. We always need house maids and stable boys.”
“Thank you, Your Grace. That’s very kind of you, but we will be leaving for Southampton, where my sister lives.”
“Well, then safe journey to you, Madam.” He touched his fingers to his hat.
She nodded, smiling sadly as she curtsied, while the boy looked off into the distance. Aaron and Jack turned around, beginning the walk out of the cemetery, to where the carriage waited for them.
“I often feel like we’re useless,” Jack muttered. “All the money in the world, and what good can we ever do?”
Aaron didn’t answer. He was shocked to see Ponsby, standing by a great oak tree by the cemetery gates, watching them. He was dressed in dirty, torn clothing. He looked gaunt, as though he hadn’t been sleeping or eating well. He went pale when he saw Aaron looking at him.
He turned, running out of the cemetery.
“Jack—it’s Ponsby!” Aaron gasped.
“Your valet?” Jack asked.
By the time Aaron had hobbled his way to the cemetery gates, Ponsby had vanished.
“Where could he have gone?” Jack wondered as they both looked up and down the small road. It was empty, but for a few passersby.
“Come,” Aaron said, “We need to speak to the Constable. Apparently, Ponsby is alive and well.”
He didn’t know what it signified. He had a foreboding feeling that there was something else going on. He had no idea what it could be.
Eleanor felt guilt, settling in the center of her chest, like a lead weight. She had no idea how to tell Lady Julia that Eleanor herself was the reason that the Duke didn’t look at Lady Julia in the way that she wanted. She felt like she had done something underhanded.
Especially when so many powerful people expected Aaron to marry Lady Julia. Eleanor trailed a few paces behind her mistress. They had gone upstairs, so that Lady Julia could splash cool water on her tear-reddened face, and were now walking downstairs.
“Come,” Lady Julia said, now fully in control of her own emotions. “The Duke and Lord Ayles have just arrived.” Eleanor followed Lady Julia down the hallway, and then down the stairs. Lady Julia walked briskly, and Eleanor was hard-pressed to keep up.
He had just entered, with Lord Ayles. They were both dressed for the funeral of the coachman. Both gentlemen looked up.
Aaron’s eyes softened as he saw Eleanor. She felt that warm feeling of anticipation when she saw him. She recalled their last encounter—a stolen moment, so many days prior.
“May I speak to you, Your Grace?” Lady Julia asked Aaron. As often happened, his eyes went to Eleanor, then back to Julia.
“Of course, My Lady. Excuse us, Jack.”
His brother shot a lingering look at Lady Julia. Meanwhile, Eleanor followed them to the parlor. Aaron was breathing heavily, leaning on his cane. She knew his leg still hurt. She hoped that he hadn’t strained himself.
“Shall I call for some sort of refreshment?” Aaron asked Lady Julia. “Tea, or cordial, perhaps?”
“No, thank you, Your Grace.”
They all sat down. Eleanor took a seat by the door. She stared at the window, where she could see a patch of blue sky, wispy white clouds lazily passing by.
“What did you want to speak to me about, My Lady?” Aaron asked. To Eleanor’s ears, he sounded tired. She wondered if he had overtaxed himself going to the funeral.
“It is the hope of the Dowager Duchess that we announce our engagement at the ball in a few days’ time,” Lady Julia said. Eleanor could hear the nervousness in her voice.
Aaron cleared his throat. “I am aware, My Lady. How do you feel about that?” he asked carefully.
“It feels like a lot of pressure, Your Grace,” she replied.
“I feel much the same.”
“Please, Your Grace,” Lady Julia said. “Can we put off the announcement? I…I just…I want to be sure that we…that I…am ready.”
“If that’s what you would like,” he replied. “I would never want you to feel overwhelmed, particularly since this is a decision that affects the rest of our lives.”
When Eleanor glanced over at them, Lady Julia was smiling, clearly relieved. Eleanor knew that she hoped that a few days’ time would give her the chance to change things.
“I would. I just feel that there’s too much going on,” she explained. “I’m so overwhelmed by everything that’s happening. It’s all so much.”
Aaron looked both perplexed and relieved. “Of course, My Lady. I completely understand,” he replied. “My knee is still quite sore. As it is, I won’t be able to dance at all.” He laughed tiredly, leaning a little on his cane as he sat. He looked very pale, causing Eleanor to feel concerned.
“I’m so glad that you understand,” Lady Julia said, clasping her hands in her lap.
“I do. I believe that we should all sit down and talk about the marriage, when everyone is here. After the ball,” he suggested. Eleanor knew that he planned to tell the Earl that he didn’t plan to wed Lady Julia.
Her own stomach did a nervous flip, as she wondered, Will he then tell them all that he plans to marry me?
She wondered if she might dissuade him from any sort of grand proclamation. Perhaps, if they could go quietly, then get married before there were any repercussions…she stared at the pattern in the carpet. Blue flowers on a white background.
“I saw Ponsby,” he said, to both of them. Eleanor’s eyes snapped up. “Alive and somewhat well at Northrup’s funeral.”
“What?” Eleanor gasped, despite herself.
“Did you speak to him?” Lady Julia asked.
“He ran out of the cemetery as soon as I spotted him,” Aaron said. “I wish he’d stayed. There’s something happening, but I’m not quite sure what.”
“The Constable will find him, won’t he?” Lady Julia murmured.
“Maybe,” Aaron mused. “I wonder that he wasn’t able to find him before.”
Eleanor’s mind raced. Ponsby was alive! Where did he go? Why would he just leave his position? Aaron was right—something was going on at Myrtlegrove Manor.
Chapter 31
It was the day of Lord Whitecier’s arrival. The entire household at Myrtlegrove Manor stood at attention in the drive, as befitting the welcome of such an honored guest. Aaron leaned heavily on his cane, tugging at his too-tight cravat.
All Aaron wanted was to slip off with Eleanor—somewhere cool and quiet. He glanced around, spotting her where she stood beside Lady Julia.
He smiled and both Eleanor and Lady Julia smiled back. He turned away, his mind returning to the few stolen moments that they had shared. His desire for her only grew as time passed.
The sound of hooves, thundering down the drive caught his attention. A sleek black barouche was coming this way, pulled by two sleek bay horses. The coat of arms of the Earl of Whitecier was emblazoned on the side—a white horse, rearing back on a shield of blue.
Aaron’s heart was racing. He took out his handkerchief to mop at his brow. The sun beat down on him mercilessly as the carriage came to a stop. The horses were frothing at the mouth.
A footman raced forward, opening the carriage door for the Earl. He climbed out of the sleek black barouche. He was dark-haired, forbidding.
“My Lord,” Aaron greeted him with as genteel a bow as he could, given his injury. “Welcome to Myrtlegrove Manor. How was your journey?”
“It was as well as can be expected, given this weather,” he replied. “It is so good to see my wife and daughter again. I trust you have been enjoying your time here?” He turned his eyes toward Lady Whitecier and Lady Julia.
“Very much so,” Lady Whitecier said demurely. “We have been shown all of the pleasures to be had in Durnsott County.” Lady Julia smiled and nodded.
“If you w
ould like, we have refreshments in the parlor,” Louisa added. She was not one to be left out of a conversation.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Lord Whitecier said. “I am eager to speak with the Duke. If we could have a moment?”
“Of course,” Aaron said. “We shall meet the ladies in the parlor in a few moments.”
The party split ways. Arthur’s eyes caught Aaron’s as they parted. He shot his friend a nervous smile. They had discussed how Aaron planned to put Lord Whitecier off for a few days. In a few moments, they sat down in Aaron’s study, where the curtains were pulled to keep the room in darkness. Aaron poured them both glasses of brandy.
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