by Liana Lefey
There were, however, a great many mirrors. They graced every wall at close intervals, interspersed with wall-mounted candelabra. Candelabra were also scattered about on pedestals throughout the room, casting luxuriant, bright light. There was not a dark corner to be found in the room save beneath the furniture.
“Welcome, honored guests,” said the portly gentleman who waited within. He gestured to the cushioned benches. “I am Master Rundell, and I am at your service. Please, sit.”
Eleanor took the seat Sorin offered her and folded nervous hands in her lap.
“You are here to view rings, my lady?” asked Rundell, coming to her first.
Before she could open her mouth to stammer out a polite denial, Sorin spoke. “We came to commission a piece for my mother, but both Lady Ashford and Lady Eleanor have expressed an interest in viewing some of your ready pieces. Lady Ashford is looking for a watch for her husband, and Lady Eleanor requires jewels to match a particular ball gown.”
The proprietor’s round face wrinkled in a broad, happy smile. “It will be my delight to show you our finest pieces, of course.” Going to a pedestal by a curtained doorway, he took from it a small bell and rang it twice.
At once, two men entered the room, both dressed in unrelieved black, a sharp contrast to the rest of the room.
Master Rundell spent a moment delivering quick, quiet instructions before turning back to face them. “Hans will attend Lady Ashford,” he said. The one called Hans went immediately to Rowena and bowed low before her. “Geoff will assist me. Now, do you already have something in mind or shall I bring out a few items for inspiration?”
They spent the next half an hour looking at various pieces of jewelry—spectacular pieces of jewelry. Even Eleanor, for whom such baubles held little import, was impressed. There was not a flaw to be found in any piece, neither in the stones nor in their settings. Every item shown her was a breathtakingly beautiful example of perfection and skill. At last, they agreed upon an emerald brooch that would have the Wincanton crest worked into the setting with diamond accents.
“And now what may we show you, Lady Eleanor?” asked the jeweler, again smiling.
Sorin watched Eleanor most intently and soon came to the conclusion that choosing a gift for her wouldn’t be as easy as he’d hoped. She hardly glanced at the rings, asking instead to see other wares.
“The gown I wish to match is pale rose,” she told the proprietor.
“Ahh,” said he, his eyes lighting. “Rubies with pearl accents, perhaps?”
“No pearls,” she said at once. “And while rubies would be lovely, I fear they would not be deemed appropriate,” she said a bit wistfully.
“Why not?” Sorin asked, confounded. “Rubies are the favorite of our queen, and Her Majesty would never wear anything improper.”
A faint blush stained her cheeks. “My mother once told me that only married ladies ought to wear rubies because red is considered the color of passion.”
Now that was a bit of useful information. “I see.” He turned to the jeweler. “What else can you suggest?”
The little man’s ever-present smile widened another increment. “If rubies and pearls are not an option, then I’m afraid the only other thing that would go well with pale rose would be diamonds.”
“Why not a gold filigree piece?” said Eleanor with a nervous glance at Rowena, who was busy poring over another tray of watches.
Sorin could stand it no longer. He leaned down to murmur at her ear, “You are a duke’s daughter, Ellie. While I agree that you should avoid vulgar ostentation, you must not be afraid to show your rank and quality. If you wear unadorned gold people may make incorrect assumptions about your circumstances.”
It was complete and utter drivel, but it would serve his purpose. He stood and addressed the jeweler with a look that would keep the price range within reason. “Bring the diamonds. We seek something simple but elegant—tasteful.”
The jeweler snapped his fingers, at once summoning his hovering assistant to his side. “Bring out the Rani collection.” With a smart bow, the one called Geoff vanished behind the heavy velvet drape, returning a few moments later with a large, flat box of highly polished wood. Another servant preceded him with two short tables, both of which he placed before Eleanor. A candelabra was borrowed from a stand and placed upon one table, the box upon the other.
“These are some of our finest diamonds from India,” said Master Rundell, opening the box with a flourish.
Sorin was pleased to hear a soft gasp from Eleanor. “Well? What think you?” he asked her after a moment. They were dazzling, but the design was a bit too busy for his liking. Still, if she liked it…
“They are breathtaking,” she answered, sounding as if her breath had indeed been stolen a little. “But I think I should like something a little more open.”
Again, the little man snapped his fingers. “The Estrellis collection,” he said to his assistant without looking away.
The lid closed and the box was withdrawn. Another quickly replaced it. This time when the lid was raised, Eleanor gave a warm hum of approval.
“Would you like to try them, my lady?”
She nodded, and the man carefully lifted a glittering necklace from its velvet bed. Sorin cleared his throat softly.
The proprietor looked up at once. “My Lord Wincanton, perhaps you might assist the lady while I unfix the earrings?” he said, offering up the necklace, which Sorin took with a small nod of thanks.
The assistant held a polished glass before Eleanor as Sorin moved behind her to fasten the necklace about her throat. A hard tremor shook her as his fingertips grazed the nape of her neck, and in the mirror he saw her close her eyes and swallow. Was her reaction one of desire or repugnance? Gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t flinch beneath it. “You can look now,” he said at her ear.
Her eyes opened, their usual spring green darkening to forest shade as she met his gaze in the reflection.
Desire lanced through his vitals. Now it was his turn to tremble. Stepping back quickly, he nodded approval. “I think the necklace quite tasteful and appropriate.”
Her hand rose to touch the gleaming jewels at her throat. “It is lovely, but…”
“Oh, Eleanor, it’s absolutely stunning!” exclaimed Rowena from the other side of the room. “Do try on the rest,” she said, rising and coming over to join them.
Eleanor was handed the earrings which she affixed to her lobes, and then the bracelet. But when the proprietor proffered the matching ring, she politely declined. “It is beautiful, truly, but…”
Sorin looked to her in surprise, observing the way her pearly teeth tormented her full bottom lip for a moment. “Is there something you dislike about it?”
“No, not at all. It’s only that, well… Mama always said a lady’s fingers ought to remain unadorned until she receives her wedding ring. I prefer to carry on her tradition and wait.”
His pulse began to pound as the words sank in. Hope sprang anew. Has she changed her mind about marriage?
Rundell’s face fell, but he put the ring back in its place. “Of course, my lady. What think you of the rest?”
“I think we’ll take it,” answered Rowena for her, much to the jeweler’s transparent delight. “That is, if you like it, my dear.”
Eleanor’s face shone. “How could I not like it?” Her smile faltered. “But Rowena, it’s far more than I should like to—”
“Let it be a gift from your cousin and me,” interrupted Rowena, patting her hand. She addressed Master Rundell. “Have these, the watch, and my other selections sent to my London residence.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
They waited while Eleanor removed the jewelry. Sorin saw her gaze linger for a moment on the ring, a magnificent white diamond of at least two karats surrounded by smaller stones, as it was separated from the rest and taken away to the back.
“I think you ought to wear them to the Blessington ball next week,” said
Rowena as their carriage rolled away, leaving the exclusive shop behind.
“But I thought to save the rose gown for the Cleveland ball,” replied Eleanor.
Rowena shook her head. “That’s almost a month away. You mustn’t wait. First impressions are often the longest to linger. Young ladies should always come out as strong as possible at the very start of the Season. It helps weed out those who know themselves unqualified to seek your hand. You want to clear the field of clutter, enabling you to focus your attention on only those gentlemen equal to or higher than your own rank.”
“General Rowena,” teased Eleanor with only the slightest edge in her voice. “Always drawing battle plans.”
“So I am, and I won’t apologize for it. I fully intend to see you married this Season.”
Sorin’s heart again leaped when Eleanor declined to rebut her assertion. Another good sign. Perhaps her headstrong resolve to remain unwed had at last given way to good sense. Out of consideration for the ladies as well as his own growling stomach, he offered to treat them to a late afternoon tea at Devereux Court.
They arrived just in time. When Eleanor went to visit the powder room, Sorin took the opportunity to broach the delicate matter at hand. “Lady Ashford, I’d like to discuss the upcoming—”
“How long have you been in love with her?”
The bluntness of her inquiry caught him off guard. Fool! He’d been too obvious in his conduct today. “I have, as you know, always been very fond of Eleanor,” he stammered, unsure of her mood and intent. Her face was closed and unreadable.
“What I observed in the way you looked at her this afternoon goes beyond ‘fondness’,” she said quietly.
Panic set in. He could only attempt to explain himself and hope. “As a child, Eleanor charmed me to the point of spoiling her as I might have done a younger sister. When she grew older, however, the nature of my affection changed—not through any fault of hers, but wholly through my own.”
Her brow furrowed.
“I was not as careful with her as I should have been,” he rushed on. “In my weakness, my own selfish and irresponsible need to be adored, I indulged her. I let her remain too familiar with me for too long and failed to enforce the rules of propriety with her until it was too late.” He ran shaking hands over his hot face. God, help me.
“Go on,” she prompted.
“Everything began to change when I came home the year of her sixteenth birthday,” he told her. “Out of innocent affection, she offered her usual effusive greeting and embraced me. To my eternal shame, I…” He swallowed and took a deep breath. Her face was as pale as parchment, but he wouldn’t coat the truth. “I reacted as no gentleman ought.”
All remaining color leached from her cheeks and lips.
Panic turned into utter terror. “In my haste to correct myself, I admonished her most assiduously for her demonstrative behavior and in the process wounded her deeply. The breach was mended, but only just, and it has never been the same between us since.” He peered into her eyes, imploring her to understand, to forgive. “I have tried every possible way to dissuade myself of…” He faltered again. “All efforts to expunge such feelings have failed.” He steeled himself, expecting a look of revulsion to cross her features, but none came.
“And that was the real reason you left and stayed away for so long,” said Rowena, her voice not ungentle, though her countenance remained dangerously pale.
He nodded. “I’d hoped that she would marry and be gone before I came back. But year after year she did not, and I could not stay away forever. When I returned home this time, I knew I could no longer run. I’ll either have to watch her fall in love and marry another or find a way to persuade her to marry me. I have little hope of the latter.”
“But why? Why do you assume she won’t return the sentiment?”
“Because she confessed to me only weeks ago that she looks to me as a model for the kind of man she wishes to marry,” he said flatly. “But it is plain she does not see me in that role.”
“Perceptions change.”
“Perhaps, but not overnight. I spent years lecturing and correcting her at every turn. I pointed out every infinitesimal fault, from the way she walked and spoke to how she held a teacup. More recently, I called into question her very judgment.” A strangled laugh forced its way out. “I’ve been a mentor and a chaperone to her, an older brother almost. Sibling affection is rather a significant hurdle to overcome when one is contemplating a marriage, would you not agree?”
“Not so significant as you might think,” she replied with an arch smile. “I saw the way she looked at you at the jeweler’s. I find it not unreasonable to believe that time has changed the nature of her affection for you, as well. We must find out.”
Hope again flared within him. “Therein lies the chief problem,” he told her. “I don’t know how to approach her to fathom out the depth or nature of her feelings for me without risking exposure of my own—which, if her view of me remains unaltered, would forever ruin our friendship. I won’t risk injuring her. Surely you must comprehend my prudence?”
Rowena slowly shook her head. “You know each other so well, and yet you’ve been blind to each other for so long. It is clear to me at least that she loves you, dear friend. Deeply, and not, I think, in a sisterly fashion.”
His face heated once more. “If I am to marry her, there can be no doubt,” he insisted. “I want her to marry me to satisfy her own heart’s desire and for no other reason. If she wishes me to serve in the capacity of a husband, I will most happily oblige. But if not, then I would rather remain silent and preserve both her ignorance and, therefore, her happiness.”
Rowena again shook her head. “If you think this is something that can be hidden from her in perpetuity, you are much mistaken. How will you go about gaining such surety without revealing yourself?”
“For now, my intent is to remain near her and allow her to once again become comfortable in our friendship.” He closed his eyes for a moment and sent up a brief prayer. “I’ve made so many mistakes with her. Mistakes I must now overcome. The barriers I strove to put between us must now be dismantled, and I fear it won’t be easy. My past rejection of her innocent affection has left her wary. And then there is the matter of Charles. I fear he will take great umbrage when I reveal my true intent, which I cannot do until I ascertain her feelings.”
“Allow me to help you with that,” offered Rowena. “I cannot imagine he would ever disapprove of your marrying Eleanor. If anything, he should welcome the idea. We could certainly choose no better match for her. Let me talk to him.”
“No,” he said at once. “I and I alone must speak with him about this. He would see it as a betrayal of his trust if he discovered it by any other means.”
“You discredit the strength of his love for you,” she said sternly. “Charles views you as a brother.”
“Well do I know it. And because of his faith in me, he has placed Eleanor in my care this Season.” He took a steadying breath. “Rowena, please…”
Pursing her lips, she sat back with a sigh. “Very well. But unless you are more discreet than you were this afternoon, he will see the truth for himself, as I did. A blind man would have seen your love for her.”
Indeed, he must exercise more care. A great deal more. The struggle to keep his true feelings from showing was getting harder every day. “Agreed.”
“And then there is Eleanor herself to consider,” she went on. “She is not so practiced at concealing her heart. If she falls in love with you, Charles will see it. There, I think, lies the solution to your dilemma. And there is where I can help you,” she said, holding up a hand to forestall the objections piling up behind his teeth. “I’ll create opportunities for you to spend time with her, and I’ll keep Charles’s attention focused elsewhere. Our having agreed to host Caroline for the Season should be enough to occupy his mind,” she said darkly. “But I advise you not to take too long in finding out what you need to know.”
“Thank you,” he said simply. “Your trust means more to me than I can say.”
Her expression again turned arch. “Oh, I fully expect to be rewarded for my trust in the form of a ring on Eleanor’s finger. Yours.”
“If it is within the realm of possibility, I shall,” he promised. At that moment, Eleanor reappeared and began making her way toward them. There was little time. “To begin, I would like to escort her to the Blessington ball. If arrangements have not already been made, that is,” he added quickly, letting her know with a jerk of his chin that they wouldn’t be alone for much longer.
“We would be delighted if you would join us,” she replied with a bright smile.
“Join us for what?” asked Eleanor as Sorin stood to greet her.
“Lord Wincanton has agreed to accompany us to the Blessington ball,” said Rowena.
Eleanor’s eyes lit. “How wonderful! Will your mother join us as well?”
“I’m afraid she’s already accepted an invitation for another event that evening.” So had he, actually, thanks to her having answered affirmatively on his behalf. He would have to send his regrets, but as long as Mother attended they wouldn’t feel slighted. She wouldn’t mind making his excuses. After all, he was on the market now and must focus his attentions on bringing home a bride—Eleanor.
Chapter Fourteen
The sun shone bright and hot, making it the perfect day for a picnic. Eleanor was careful to keep her parasol positioned to prevent any light getting through. The Blessington ball was in just two days.
Never had she prepared so assiduously for an event in all her life, not even her debut. Lemon water had been daubed on her nightly to ensure her face and shoulders remained free of freckles. Milk baths had been taken. And she’d been careful to keep her bonnet on and her shoulders covered when in the sun. Every inch of skin from her fingertips to her hairline had been plied with lotions and creams in order to make it as soft as butter. She wasn’t about to spoil it all now.
