Eleonora laughed. “How did he get my slippers?”
“He only has one, My Lady,” she replied. “You lost the other, when you were riding home. Then, you had your accident.”
“You’d think I’d remember that.” It was there, but it was in the long black expanse, where memories should have been, but were not.
“Perhaps there was an evil enchantress,” Sarah said, “walking through the woods that night, My Lady. She saw you, and envied your beauty. So she cast a spell on you, taking your memories.”
Eleonora tapped her foot in excitement. “That’s a much better version than I hit my head.”
Sarah’s gaze slipped sideways. “Well, she wanted you to forget her, so she made it look that way. My Lady, perhaps, your gentleman is lost in the woods. The enchantress got to him, and now he wanders and wanders about in a mist, your glass slipper in his hand.”
“Were they uncomfortable, the glass slippers?”
“No. Not at all,” Sarah told her. “I made them myself. They are the absolute most comfortable slippers in all the world. You could dance all night, and your feet would never hurt.”
“I didn’t know that you were so talented, Sarah.” Eleonora pictured Sarah, dressed as a fairy. She was the only conjurer in Eleonora’s life. She could take anything, and weave it into a fabulous tale.
Sarah leans in, whispering. “It’s because I’ve got my Nan’s magic. I can see the future and the past, My Lady. I can weave a story as easily as a pair of magic slippers.”
“To think that I’m Cinderella,” Eleonora murmured. “And I’ve never swept a hearth in all my life.”
They both laughed.
* * *
Elijah was shown into the parlor, where there was already a small gathering. This evening, as with the others, Lady Diana stood out—she was dressed in a crimson silk that brought out the brown of her eyes, and the auburn of her hair. She was an arresting sight.
He forced himself to greet his hostess before going over to Lady Diana, who was beaming at him.
“My Lady,” he said, bowing to her.
There was an older gentleman standing beside her. There was a small familiar resemblance between them. Though he had never met Lord Lutterhall, he knew him immediately.
“Father,” Lady Diana said, confirming Elijah’s suspicions. “This is Lord Cambolton. Lord Cambolton, this is my father, the Earl of Lutterhall.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Elijah said, meaning it. He sketched a small, courteous bow.
“You as well. I knew your father. He was a good gentleman.” His tone was filled with polite detachment. Everyone in the surrounding countryside knew his father. He had been well-liked by all.
“That’s very kind of you to say.”
“I am sorry for his loss,” he said, sounding very sincere.
Another lord entered the room, and Lord Lutterhall’s attention was drawn away from Elijah, as he politely excused himself to go and greet the new arrival.
Elijah and Diana smiled at each other. He thought, as he always did, of all of the things that he wished to say, but couldn’t, because they were in polite society. His eyes went to her lips, which were pink and full. She smiled, squinting at him, clearly noticing his pointed gaze. He cleared his throat.
“Shall I ask him if he knows of the Albany Ball?” he asked.
“I want to have you over to dine with us this week,” she said. “I will have my father tender an invitation to you. You can ask him then.”
“That would be most kind of you.”
“It’s all for my own gain.” Their eyes met. As always, Elijah could feel the pull between them. He was bound in a spell by those brown eyes.
“I was wondering,” he murmured, his heart beating in his chest. “If that would be a good time to ask your father for his permission to court you.”
A slow, radiant smile crossed her face. “I would be very pleased if you did.”
Elijah was smiling so widely that his cheeks hurt. He looked at her—so beautiful in the flickering light of the candles. His chest swelled with pride and joy.
* * *
The dinner dragged by. Diana wanted nothing more than to talk exclusively with Lord Cambolton, but found herself seated all of the way on the other side of the table.
She couldn’t stop thinking about his request to court her. It was, of course, only right. She would have been concerned had he not asked. She could feel their secret joy, stretching across the space between them, as though they were bound by a string.
He was seated beside Lady Southerton. She could hear their discussion from where she sat. His gaze often wandered over to Diana. She felt a small charge as she caught him doing it.
She was pleased that he wanted to court her. The fact that he felt the same way about her as she did him felt almost impossible.
Yet, it happens. All of the time.
Diana’s eyes went to her glass of wine. The dark red seemed to glow like a jewel in the cut-crystal goblet. She reached for it, turning the stem in her fingers. Meanwhile, she listened to the conversation.
“I heard that Lady Albany will assist you in the planning,” Lady Southerton said.
“She has kindly offered her assistance,” he replied. His eyes gravitated toward Diana. He smiled when he saw her. “I will invite all of my new acquaintances here in the countryside.”
She felt she was aglow at the thought of courting him. No one else knew what they both planned. For the moment, their plan was just between them.
She let her mind wander a little, as she imagined getting Lord Cambolton on his own. She thought of his hand, cupping her cheek, his thumb, brushing against her lip. She could feel her cheeks heat up at the thought, and a warm feeling pooling in between her legs.
When she glanced toward her father, he was watching her. He raised an eyebrow. She smiled at him, then looked down at her plate. Her cheeks burned.
Perhaps, it isn’t so secret after all.
When they all stood up, then began to file down the hallway on their way back to the parlor, her father whispered to her.
“Lord Cambolton seems very drawn to you,” he pointed out.
“Indeed.”
“He’s only a Viscount.”
“That matters not.”
“Mayhap, I should send for your Aunt Clarabelle.”
“Why?” Diana’s aunt had helped both Diana and Eleonora prepare for their debuts, and had acted as chaperone for both of them during the past several London Seasons.
“She could help guide you,” he replied. “To make good decisions.”
“Whatever you think best.” She was not amused by the prospect. However, if it made her father feel better, then perhaps a visit from his sister might put his mind at ease. He could not watch her as much as he wanted—he was so busy. However, if she had to prove that she was not going to be impulsive, then she would.
I am not my sister, after all. But then, I would never have thought Eleonora capable of being reckless.
Chapter 10
The next morning, Diana went to find her father. After speaking with Lord Cambolton the night before, she was determined to set up the opportunity for him to ask her father’s permission. The door to his study was open, and he was seated at his desk.
“Father?” she called out softly.
“Diana.” He slipped the ledger into his top drawer, then raised his eyes to her. “How is your sister this morning?”
“She’s well,” she said, entering and sitting in the armchair that was on the other side of the desk. The dark green upholstery creaked beneath her.
“What did you think of Lord Cambolton, truly?”
He nodded, folding his hands on top of the desk. He seemed to be thinking about something else, as he often did.
He sniffed. “He reminds me of his father, though I haven’t seen him since he was a child.”
“I would like to invite him over this week,” she said, nervously. “To dine with us.”
He lo
oked up at her, sharply. Behind his glasses, his eyes flashed. “Why?”
“Because you should make the acquaintance of our new neighbor,” she replied, finding his reaction odd. “Also…” She swallowed. “I find him to be everything that a gentleman ought to be—kind-hearted and intelligent.”
“We haven’t had many guests since your sister’s accident,” he said. “Certainly not anyone that we don’t know. Eleonora might find it upsetting to have a stranger here.”
“You have to start mixing among society again, Father. We didn’t lose Eleonora. She’s still here.”
“It’s almost as if we have lost her,” he said, his brows furrowing. “I just…haven’t felt…”
“I know it’s been hard on you,” she told him, gently. Ever since Eleonora’s accident, he hadn’t been out much. Though he had entertained all of Diana’s potential suitors with alacrity. Here was another such gentleman. One with more possibility. “The new Lord Cambolton will be an easy reintroduction.”
He nodded, though his eyes were faraway. “Will you have him meet your sister?”
“Only if she’s up for it,” she replied. “I’ll see.” She didn’t want to push Eleonora, particularly since she was so changeable. Diana didn’t know if her sister would ever be able to be in company again.
Her father nodded, though he wasn’t smiling. “Very well. If he’s so agreeable, as you say.”
“Thank you, Father. I will write to him directly.”
He didn’t respond. He was clearly lost in his thoughts already, his face turned toward the window. The sunlight fell upon him, making his glasses two circles of light.
Diana left, wondering at his tone. He seemed odd. Though, he had been willing to host single gentlemen at Lutterhall Manor, he hadn’t gone to any engagements otherwise. He claimed that he was too busy or too tired.
Eleonora’s accident had upset the both of them. It was as though they had lost a part of her that night, and they were both still grieving. Eleonora herself was grieving this loss, too. Diana wished that her father would talk to her. But he had never been the type of gentleman to take the council of others, particularly his daughters.
* * *
Elijah had returned home, to find that all of his mother’s things had been deposited, over the past few days, in his study. They were in several large chests.
He ran a hand over one of them. The dust lay thick on the lid. He opened it up. Inside, there were gowns, folded. He felt strange, looking at the pieces of his mother’s life.
It feels like I’m trespassing.
His mother was almost a stranger to him, having been gone since he was a child. He had few memories of her, though they were all happy, sun-drenched ones.
I have to do this. I owe it to both of them.
Elijah began to look for a journal, or a diary. His hunch was that it would be in there. He took out many gowns, which were in a style from a long-gone era. There were little odds and ends, although nothing that would give him any clues that he sought.
By the end of it, he had found nothing. He was covered in dust, and his father’s study, already full of papers, was now filled with musty gowns. It was what remained of both of his parents. He swallowed the painful lump in his throat.
He left the room, wandering the halls of the house. This was the place where his ancestors had lived. It had been built in the late 1600’s, and had hosted the King and Queen for dinner, once.
The walls at Cambolton House were papered in yellow and burgundy silk. Most of the furniture was dark cherry wood. The floors were both hardwood and tile. He was proud to be its master.
He felt the land in his bones, even though his father had ensured that he was nowhere near there while growing up. Somehow, he ended up standing on the stairs, looking down into the foyer.
That was where his mother had been found. Right there, where there was a deep burgundy-colored rug over the flagstones. A chill rose on his arms. If someone had pushed her, he or she had likely stood right where he was on the first step off of the landing. He wondered, too, if this same person had murdered his father.
He glanced up. The foyer was three stories high. There was a glass cupola on the ceiling, and he could see the blue sky through it. He considered that this might have been his mother’s final view. There was a pain in his chest as he thought of her. An emptiness, a void where his memories of his mother should have been. Instead, all he had was grief, and the knowledge that he had lost her far too soon.
His thoughts went to his father. This newer sadness was even sharper. He thought of his father’s face. Much like his own, with the dark brow and the high cheekbones, the square jaw. He had the same olive skin and tawny hair, though his had been streaked with gray.
There was a knock on the front door. Elijah remained where he was, watching while Hanby walked to answer it. When the door opened, a footman in livery stood there.
“A message, for the Viscount of Cambolton,” the messenger said, holding out his charge. It was cream-colored paper, with a bright red seal.
“Thank you,” Hanby said, accepting it. He closed the door, turning toward Elijah. He jumped, his hand going to his breastbone. “My Lord!” he gasped, wide-eyed. “I didn’t know that you were standing there.”
“I apologize, Hanby.” He made his way down the stairs. He held out his hand for the letter, which his butler gave him.
“Is there anything that I may get you, My Lord?” Hanby asked.
“No, thank you.”
“Very good, My Lord.” He bowed stiffly and then walked away, the sound of his footsteps vanishing into the distance.
Elijah peered at the letter, turning it over to find the seal that was inscribed on Lady Diana’s carriage on the back. It was a shield, with two white harts, rearing on either side, with a lily of the valley in the center. He broke it, then read the letter.
Dear Lord Cambolton,
I cordially invite you to dine at Lutterhall Manor on Friday, with my daughter and I. I do hope that you will attend.
Regards,
Barnabas, Earl of Lutterhall
His pulse was racing. He knew that it was important for him to make a positive impression on the Earl of Lutterhall, for he was going to have to ask for his permission to court Lady Diana, and then, later on, to marry her.
He went upstairs, to write back. Of course he was going to attend. He wouldn’t miss it for the world.
Dear Lord Lutterhall,
I will be pleased to attend. Thank you for your kind invitation.
Sincerely,
Elijah, Viscount of Cambolton
He sat, waiting for the ink to dry, staring at what he had written. His heart fluttered nervously in his chest. Their first meeting had gone well. There was no reason to suspect that Lord Lutterhall would turn him down. He had seen the light in Lady Diana’s eyes when he had asked her.
Elijah thought of what it would be like, to be married to Lady Diana. He thought about taking her to his bed. There was passion between them. When he pressed his lips to hers, she would return the fire that he had for her, her soft moans filling the silence of his bed chamber.
* * *
Diana was thinking of the next day. She was lit up with joy. The prospect of courting Lord Cambolton was one that she liked, exceedingly. It was turning out to be a whirlwind courtship, which she considered with pleasure.
Even just thinking of him caused her cheeks to heat, and butterflies to awaken in her stomach.
“My Lady,” Mary said from behind her.
“Yes, Mary?” she asked
“What gown will you want pressed for your dinner tomorrow?” Mary asked.
Diana considered it. “I need to look bridal, Mary. Do you think that the cream-colored silk will do it?”
“What about the white muslin?” Mary suggested.
Diana frowned, turning to her lady’s maid. The white muslin was not proper for a dinner. She was treating Mary with the utmost patience, since she was new to this.
“Or the champagne silk?” Diana suggested, hoping that Mary would learn by inference. Additionally, Diana knew that Lord Cambolton had liked that gown. She had seen it written across his face, the moment he had entered the parlor at Aston Manor.
“Yes, I believe that one will do nicely, My Lady,” Mary agreed.
“Excellent. I’d like to wear my pearl necklace,” she ordered. “And we will do my hair in a low chignon, with a few curls, framing my face.” She wanted to look elegant, yet simple. “Lord Cambolton is going to ask my father for his permission to court me.”
Sinfully Bound To The Enigmatic Viscount (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 6
