by Bree Wolf
Blinking, Lady Stanhope swallowed, and her gaze drifted to Eleanor. “What is he doing here?” she snarled, a mixture of outrage and pain tainting her voice.
Casting a glance over her shoulder, Eleanor frowned as her gaze fell on Henry’s brother, Nick. Rooted to the spot, he, too, seemed shaken to his core. However, while her mother seemed near fainting, Nick appeared ready to burst, hatred burning in his eyes as he glared at his hostess.
Eleanor swallowed, wishing she could understand what had happened. “I invited him,” she whispered, guilt rushing to her heart even without knowing why.
Turning her head, her mother stared at her in disbelief and would have stumbled backwards if Eleanor had not held her hands tightly in her own. Then her gaze drifted upward and angled slightly to the side, and even without looking, Eleanor knew that her mother had just now taken note of Henry’s presence.
Instantly, the muscles in her jaw tensed even further.
With deadly calm, her mother drew back her shoulders and raised her chin, the look in her eyes drilling into Eleanor’s soul. “Never have I been this disappointed with you as I am now,” she stated, her words like knives to Eleanor’s heart. Then she yanked her hands out of Eleanor's and turned to glare at the two brothers. “I demand that you leave my house this instant.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Henry as though he were a bug she wished to squash. “I will not stand idly by and watch Eleanor be ruined as well.” Then she spun on her heel and returned to the house, her breath coming in fast gasps as though her control on her emotions was slipping and she was near fainting.
Never had Eleanor seen her mother so emotional, so vulnerable, and it terrified her to her very core. Something was very wrong, and now the time had finally come to learn what.
Shaking her head at her brother as he stepped forward, Eleanor turned to Henry. “Please stay,” she said, nodding her head for emphasis.
“Are you certain?” he asked, doubt in his voice as he glanced at the drawing room doors through which her mother had left.
“I am,” Eleanor said with determination. “I need to speak to her and find out what happened. We need to put this to rest once and for all.”
Henry nodded. “I’ll be here if you need me.”
“Thank you.”
Turning toward the house, Eleanor wasted no time and hurried after her mother, finding her in the drawing room, pacing the length of the Persian rug frantically, her arms gesturing wildly as she mumbled under her breath.
As Eleanor closed the doors behind her, her mother finally noticed her presence, turning angry eyes on her daughter. “Mother, what happened? Please tell me what is going on.”
Her mother’s lips contorted into a snarl, “Get out!”
Shaken by the rude tone in her mother’s voice, Eleanor swallowed as every fibre in her body told her to comply. And still, she stood her ground, knowing that if she left now, she might as well set Henry free and accept that their love would never lead to a happy future.
That thought terrified her more than anything else.
“I will not,” she stated in a calm voice, stepping toward her mother, her gaze unwavering as she gathered her strength for this battle of wills.
A hint of surprise came to her mother’s eyes. “I do not wish to speak to you. Now, go!”
“But I wish to speak with you,” Eleanor retorted. “I should have demanded an explanation weeks ago, no, months ago, but I hoped that if I gave you time, you would tell me willingly.” Shaking her head, Eleanor snorted. “But I was wrong. No matter the consequences, you intend to take this to your grave, do you not?”
Her mother swallowed, and the anger in her gaze slowly melted away, replaced by deep sorrow. “It was never meant for your ears.”
“Whether it was or not does not matter,” Eleanor insisted, hope surging to the surface as she realised that her mother was at the end of her rope. “I need to know for it affects my life in the worst way. I can no longer live with the secrets around me. You want me to send away the man I love, but you won’t even tell me why.”
Her mother gritted her teeth. “He is not a good match for you. He is not worthy of−”
“You’re wrong!” Eleanor shouted, shaking her head in anger at her mother’s insistence to hold on to her secret. “And you would see that if you weren’t so terrified to learn the truth.”
“Terrified?” her mother gasped, staring at her with wide eyes. “I’m outraged. I’m−”
“Why?” Eleanor snapped. “Because I went against your wishes and invited him? No, that’s not the reason, and you know it.” Pointing through the doors at the terrace, Eleanor stepped toward her mother. “I saw your face out there. You were not outraged. You were frightened. I saw it in your eyes. There was pain and anguish and terror.” Eleanor swallowed as tears gathered in her mother’s eyes, and her voice softened, “I need to know why.” Grasping her mother’s hands, Eleanor looked into her eyes pleadingly. “Please, Mother. If you love me, you need to be honest with me. You are not protecting me by keeping this secret.” As her mother’s gaze focused on hers, Eleanor shook her head. “You’re not. You’re breaking my heart.”
A sorrowful gasp escaped her mother’s lips, and she closed her eyes, tears running freely down her cheeks as her hands tightened on Eleanor’s. Instantly, the memory of that night months ago as her mother had sat by her bed at night surged to the surface of Eleanor’s mind. “I had hoped you would never have to find out,” her mother whispered before her eyes opened, and she looked at her daughter. “I had hoped your regard for him would dissipate over time so that you would never have to learn the truth. I’m sorry, dear child. I never meant to break your heart. All I’ve done, I did to protect it.”
“I know,” Eleanor assured her, praying that her mother would not refuse to share her secret now. “I never believed that you withheld your consent out of spite or disregard for my feelings. I always knew you had a reason. But I’m not a child any more. You need to trust me enough to share it with me. I deserve to know. This is my life, my happiness, and I have a right to know. Please, Mother.”
Exhausted, her mother stumbled to the settee, seating herself before she might faint after all. Coming to sit next to her, Eleanor met her gaze expectantly. “What happened?”
“It’s about Corinne,” her mother finally said, barely able to meet her daughter’s eyes. “I failed her.” Anger returned to her voice. “I failed my sister. I promised her to look after her daughter, and when she needed me, I wasn’t there.”
Confused, Eleanor stared at her mother. “What are you talking about? What happened to Corinne? She is travelling on the continent…is she not?” Fear seized her heart, squeezing it until Eleanor felt as though she could not breathe.
Placing a gentle hand on her daughter’s, Lady Stanhope met her eyes. “She’s with child,” she whispered, her words knocking the air from Eleanor’s lungs.
“What?” she gasped, not having expected anything remotely like this.
Her mother nodded, guilt and pain darkening her eyes before the muscles in her jaw tensed in anger. “Nicholas Waltham is the father.”
Staring at her mother, Eleanor could not form a coherent thought. It could not possibly be true? Did Henry know? How? Why? Her mind ran rampant.
Her mother’s lips pressed into a thin line, disgust clearly written all over her face. “That man ruined Corinne and then refused to marry her. He is without honour, without decency. He didn’t even have the courage to tell her himself. All he did was sent a note.” Shaking her head, her mother closed her eyes. “It broke her heart. I’ve never seen her like this. The picture of misery, all her hopes crushed with a few simple words.”
Waiting for the rest of the tale, Eleanor held her mother’s hand as tears of her own streamed down her face.
For Corinne.
For her mother.
For her own love.
“I sent Corinne to Halford House to have the baby,” her mother continued. “I pray that no on
e will learn of this and that she’ll be able to return to us some day and not be subjected to the evil gossip of the ton.” A snort escaped her. “And I should know for I am usually at its core. I pretended that nothing had changed, that the world was still the way it was supposed to be.” Again, tears came to her eyes. “I treated poor Diana horribly. She, too, suffered the dishonesty of a so-called gentleman. She didn’t deserve my derision. I wronged her.”
Eleanor swallowed. All these months her cousin, her friend had been so close−only a few days’ ride away−and Eleanor had not known. All alone, Corinne had to face the horror of losing the man she loved and realising that her future lay shattered before her. And now, there would be a baby.
“Is that why you came to my room that night?” Eleanor asked, remembering her mother’s tears as well as her promise to protect her.
Lady Stanhope nodded. “I had just seen her to Halford House. I wished I could have stayed, but how should I have explained my absence?” She shook her head. “I didn’t want to burden you.”
Eleanor nodded. “I will send Nick away.” She drew in a deep breath and met her mother’s eyes. “But Henry is not his brother. He has done nothing to deserve your hatred for him.”
For a long moment, her mother looked at her. “Have you been intimate with him?”
Taken aback, Eleanor shook her head, a touch of red coming to her cheeks. “I have not. He has never treated me with anything but respect.”
Her mother nodded, and a glimmer of hope began to blossom in Eleanor’s heart. “I shall send Nick away, and then I need to see Corinne.”
“I’ll take you to her,” her mother agreed, a soft smile coming to her face. “She’ll be happy to see you.”
Chapter Ten − A Love Once Lost
“What on earth was that about?” Henry mumbled to himself as he paced the length of the front hall, every now and then casting an expectant glance at the closed doors to the drawing room. After a while, everything had gone quiet, and Henry did not know if that was a good sign or not. Had Eleanor been able to reach her mother? Was Lady Stanhope at this moment explaining herself to her daughter?
Stopping in his tracks, Henry blinked as his mind drew him back to the moment they had come upon Lady Stanhope on the terrace, her eyes burning with hatred as she had stared at…
“You,” Henry mumbled, then slowly turned on his heel until he faced his brother, who sat hunched over on one of the bottom steps of the large staircase. “She looked at you.”
Lifting his head, Nick met Henry’s gaze for the barest of moments before his eyes dropped to the ground once more, a new tension coming to this shoulders.
“She was displeased to see me,” Henry continued, his mind recalling all the details of that one fateful moment, “but beyond herself with anger when she saw you.” Swallowing, Henry stared at his brother, the question that once again formed in his mind stuck in his throat. What if he had been right before? What if there had been something between Eleanor and his brother? What if it had ended…? Henry shook his head, forcing the possibility from his mind. And yet, he could feel it lingering at the edges of his consciousness.
As he was about to open his mouth and address his brother, footsteps neared, and Henry flinched, turning his head from his brother with a mixture of relief and regret.
Lord Stanhope approached, his gaze narrowed as he glanced back and forth between the two brothers. “They’re still in there?” he asked, and yet, his voice did not rise to ask it a question. Then he nodded. “Good. It is about time they spoke to each other.” Again, he glanced at Henry before his gaze travelled to his brother still seated on the stairs, head hanging between slumped shoulders. “Is everything all right?”
Henry drew in a deep breath. “I suppose we shall know soon.”
Lord Stanhope nodded. “Send for me when the doors open.” Then he took a step toward the terrace. “I shall see to our guests.”
As the doors closed behind him, Henry once more turned his attention to his brother. Although every fibre of his being urged him to ignore the question burning in his heart, trying to convince him that ignorance could indeed be bliss, a small but rather insistent part of him could not pretend all was well…or would be well.
“Again, I ask you,” Henry spoke into the silence hanging like a shroud over them, “are you acquainted with the family?”
At his words, his brother’s frame tensed and he inhaled deeply, sending Henry’s heart into a tailspin.
Gritting his teeth, Henry balled his hands into fists to keep himself in check. “Tell me what you know,” he demanded, his voice harsh and abrupt. “Are you acquainted with the family? With…Eleanor? And don’t you dare lie to me. What I saw out there on the terrace speaks for itself. Clearly, Lady Stanhope despises you.” He shook his head, a tortured snort escaping his lips. “And here I thought it was our brothers’ reputations that stood in the way of my happiness with Eleanor, but it is you, isn’t it?”
Drawing in a deep breath, Nick lifted his head and met Henry’s gaze.
To his surprise, he saw neither guilt nor regret in his brother’s eyes, but only pain and sorrow. Had he been wrong? Had he judged too quickly? Could there be another explanation?
Swallowing, Nick pushed himself to his feet and came to stand before Henry. “I assure you,” he began, his voice calm as he held Henry’s gaze, “I have no prior connection to Lady Eleanor. You have nothing to fear from me, Brother.”
Henry exhaled loudly, “Then, why…?”
“I knew her cousin,” Nick replied, the muscles in his jaw tensing. “Corinne.”
“Her cousin?” Henry asked, relieved at his brother’s answer, and yet, confused by it all the same. Indeed, as far as he could recall Eleanor had mentioned a cousin at one point or another, but was she not travelling on the continent? “I don’t understand.”
As Nick opened his mouth to reply, the doors to the drawing room flew open and Eleanor rushed out.
Turning to her, Henry was taken aback by the hostility in her eyes as she glared at his brother, her usual calm demeanour gone. Whatever had happened between his brother and her cousin, it had to have ended badly.
“You!” she snarled, pointing an accusing finger at Nick’s chest. “Get out!”
With wide eyes, Nick stared at her, momentarily frozen to the spot.
“What’s going on?” Henry interjected, placing a gentle hand on Eleanor’s arm. “What happened? What did your mother say?”
Turning her gaze to him, Eleanor swallowed, and he could see raw pain lurking out from beneath the anger that held her rigid. “Ask your brother. He’s the one who ruined everything.”
Glancing back and forth between Nick and Eleanor, Henry felt ready to explode as they both kept their silence. “Will one of you please tell me what is going on?” he snapped, glaring at both.
While Nick remained immobile, his face inexpressive like a mask, Eleanor inhaled deeply, then turned her gaze to Henry. “He…,” she began, then swallowed, needing to gather all her courage to continue. “He ruined my cousin, and then he refused to marry her.”
As though he had been slapped in the face, Henry’s head whipped around, his gaze seeking his brother’s. However, what he saw there made his head spin. Once again, instead of guilt and remorse, he saw only stunned disbelief. “Is this true?” he asked, placing a hand on his brother’s arm.
Nick blinked. “What?” he breathed, then swallowed as though something had lodged in his throat that he could not seem to rid himself of. “I…She…What?”
“Is this true?” Henry asked again, slightly shaking his brother as his mind still seemed somewhat far away. “You just told me that you knew Corinne. Did you…?”
Holding his breath, Henry waited, Eleanor standing beside him, her gaze hard as she glared at his brother. If this was indeed true, then their happily-ever-after would never be. How could they overcome such a betrayal? The simple answer was: they could not. Eleanor would never marry him out of respect for her cous
in, and he would never be able to forgive his brother for coming between him and the woman he loved.
“It’s not true,” Nick finally said, and for a moment, Henry felt as though he would faint with relief. “That is not what happened.” Shaking his head, he looked at Eleanor, his eyes now clear and the tone in his voice steady. “I loved her. I wanted to marry her,” his jaw clenched, “but then she changed her mind, saying she had received a better offer than the fourth son of a baron.” Anger gripped his voice, and he swallowed, his teeth clenched.
“You’re lying!” Eleanor snapped, shaking her head in disbelief. “How can you say that? How can you pretend that you acted honourably? She trusted you, and you betrayed her. And now−” Mid-sentence she stopped herself, her eyes glancing around the empty front hall, before her voice dropped to a whisper. “And now she is with child, hiding out in the country to avoid a scandal. Her life, however, will be ruined no matter what happens.”
The news that Corinne was with child hit Henry square in the chest. However, his own surprise was nothing in comparison to his brother’s. Even if he had not been certain before, now Henry had no doubt that there had been a terrible misunderstanding and that nothing was as it seemed.
“What?” Nick stammered, his eyes bulging as he stared at Eleanor. “She’s with…She’s having…I…We…” Then he swallowed, and the light that had come to his gaze darkened. “Is it mine?”
A deep frown came to Eleanor’s face, and for a second, Henry thought she would lash out at his brother in anger. Then, however, it was as though she had suddenly seen something that had escaped her notice before and she looked at him for a long moment before finally nodding her head. “My mother assures me that it is, yes.”
A large smile came to Nick’s face at her answer, and all the sorrow and misery of the last few months seemed to be lifted off his shoulders. “I’m going to be a father,” he stammered, eyes glowing with disbelief and joy. “I’m going to be a father.” Stumbling backwards, he once more sank onto the bottom steps of the large staircase, for a moment resting his head in his hands as he drew one deep breath after another into his lungs.
