All of this amounted to her pacing ruts into the sitting room carpet rather than composing the required reports to her aunt and uncle, even though she had no idea what those reports ought to contain. The tea conversations thus far had been trivial, and Mallory seemed not to mention anything of any great import outside of common niceties.
“Goodness me,” Sarah’s lilting voice sounded from the doorway, jolting Eloise from her thoughts.
“You look as though your favorite kitten drowned.” She continued, the smooth expanse of her brow crinkling with disapproval. “Whatever is the matter?”
She carried an arm full of winter greenery, a few hothouse flowers, and some random bits and bobs. Their task today would be arranging the holiday wreaths for the main family areas.
Eloise attempted to shake the fog of her thoughts into the far recesses of her mind, concentrating instead on the bright countenance of her friend. “Nothing at all,” she lied. “It's just all this dreary weather. It tends to always get me a little down.”
“Well you will not have time to think on it now that I’m here.” Sarah smiled, making her way to a table beside the window. “Because we are going to have all manner of fun putting these together. You may not think wreath arrangement is a topic of great amusement, but I assure you, the process by which we go about it in this household is the stuff of comic legend.” That was enough to put a grin on Eloise's face, and she quickly set aside her woes to join Sarah at the table.
She began helping to take part the bundle of recent findings, organizing each item by category. Before so much as a full hour went by in their task, she understood Sarah’s comment.
when instead of sorting slowly through each twig and flower and greenery bough as Eloise attempted to do, Sarah snatched up pieces at random, often flinging other pieces and various decorative elements like buttons ribbons and ornaments in every direction as she did so. The two of them were soon giggling uncontrollably, chasing down various decorative elements that went flying or rolling off the table. In the end, the process likely was no faster than had they done it carefully to begin with, but somehow seemed infinitely more enjoyable.
They’d spent half the morning at their task when Eloise, having crawled under the table to retrieve a small ornamental bird whose wings hadn’t saved it from a crash, paused to stretch her hands, fingers stiff from wrapping the boughs. Taking in the winter landscape outside the window, she thought she saw someone on the far side of the gardens. As they were on the first floor, ornamental trees and features obstructed her view as compared to that of her window upstairs, so she squinted, leaning slightly forward.
“He’s at his paces again,” Sarah sighed beside her shoulder as Eloise recognized Eric.
She looked to her friend, not understanding. Sarah’s features took on a concerned mask, losing a measure of color.
“Something’s been bothering him, but he won’t tell me.” She stated, almost to herself, then shook her head and moved back to her wreath in progress. “You should have seen him just a few years ago, Eloise. So confident! Excelling in every project he took on. We were all so proud and glad to see him happy, but then...”
She blinked and flushed, and Eloise wondered if she regretted speaking so openly of her brother to a near stranger. Eloise remained silent, watching her friend’s internal debate play out across her brow and in the movements of her mouth. After a moment, she arrived at her decision and looked up. “And then our elder siblings went through unfortunate and harrowing circumstances. For some reason none of us understand, Eric laid the blame on himself and has spent the past year retreating into himself.” She paused, eyes drifting to the window but unfocused.
Not knowing how to respond, Eloise remained silent, returning her attention to her own decorative project. They worked in silence a few minutes, and Eloise resisted the urge to look out the window again. The thought of Eric forlorn caused her undue discomfort and she felt compelled to offer some sort of sympathy.
“They say...” she began, considering her words carefully. “They say Christmas is the time for miracles and new beginnings, perhaps Eric will find a new compelling focus to take his mind from what pains him.”
Sarah smiled at the words, eyes fixed on her with such intent observation Eloise wondered what the woman might be looking for. Her expression softened, retaining a warm and happy glow. “I think you might be right, Eloise.”
The statement, along with the uncanny stare ignited a flurry of anticipation in Eloise, as though Sarah knew something, had witnessed something Eloise had missed.
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Eloise sat to tea with Sarah, admiring their handiwork now strewn with purpose about the sitting room in the form of a wreath above the mantle, greenery garlands accenting the mantle and windows, and a few strategically placed accent wreaths around holiday candles and lamps on the side tables. They would end their task soon, an eventuality Eloise dreaded, knowing she would go back to that glaring sheet of paper upstairs. She had to try to discover something of interest to send her uncle.
“Are you enjoying your stay at Heathermoore?” Sarah asked as a maid wheeled out the tea cart.
“I'm having a wonderful time.” She confirmed. “My aunt would never consider taking such an active role in the holiday decorations, and since it is only me in the household at the moment, she feels no particular need or desire to decorate at all. But I have always enjoyed preparing a home for the holidays and have found everything we've done so far extremely enjoyable.”
“I'm glad to hear it,” Sarah responded. “I worried with only me and Eric for company, you might not find any more amusement here then at your uncle's home. Believe me, it is normally quite a ruckus during the holidays when all the siblings are assembled. Her smile wavered, her eyes taking on a misty overcast.
“Is this the first Christmas without the entire family present?” Eloise asked as they returned to their worktable. Most of the decorations were complete, but they’d decided to finish the garland they’d begun before tea as a final hurrah for the day.
“No, there were often holidays when papa was unable to join us because of his duties, but this is the first year so utterly bereft of Langdons. James and Daniel both have their own naval careers, and James his own family, Ammy and Gavin are visiting with his family this year, and with Marissa and mama off in London, the house seems positively deserted.
“But you still have Eric,” Eloise mentioned, taking up a segment of garland and reaching for a string of dried berries. “and the two of you seem quite close.”
“Yes, of course, and please forgive me I didn't mean to insinuate that I wasn't perfectly content with Eric's company, it's just so very different with just the two of us.”
From what you've mentioned of your family,” Eloise began cautiously, “it seems as though many changes have happened within the last few years, but I'm sure once you are all settled, the family gatherings will become just as crowded and loud as you remember.” she grinned. “From the stories you've told, I can't imagine you Langdons would stay away from each other for long.”
“That's very true,” Sarah laughed, “and then our poor neighbors will come to dread the holidays! Why, even when it was just us, we had one neighbor who—” She cut off, expression darkening as Eloise watched her. “Well,” she continued after a brief pause, “I suppose things can't always stay the same. Besides it's not as though the changes have been bad ones. I'm glad we now have Gavin and Angelique in the family. “Marissa will soon join them, I’m sure, she is quite popular with the gentleman.”
Eloise thought she noted a hint of jealousy in the statement. “You sound as though you don’t think you have the same talent, Sarah.” She raised her brows in an exaggerated display of surprise.
“And that is because I do not. Marissa has a kind of sparkling personality which draws people to her. And just enough of a mysterious countenance to keep them intrigued. I share none of those qualities, and I fear I have frequently been touted as the less vibrant sta
r.”
“Any such commentary is surely unwarranted.” Eloise added in honestly. “You are lovely in your own right, and I find you extremely engaging.”
“Why thank you Eloise,” Sarah giggled, “I too believe you and I make a rather perfect pair.” They both laughed at that.
“Truly though,” Eloise continued, “Is the ability to captivate every man in a room that important when you only have an interest in one?” She cast a sly glance in her friend’s direction, not sure if the suggestion would cause upset.
“Touché, Eloise, your powers of reason far out maneuver girlish fancy.” Sarah responded, but a hint of color appeared on her cheeks. Biting her lip, Eloise pressed on, knowing she had to attempt steering the conversation.
“Sir Thomas seems a good natured and accomplished man,” she suggested. Sarah’s hands stilled in their work. “He seems to travel quite a bit, from what he’s mentioned, is it for business?”
“Yes, um,” Sarah pursed her lips as her eyes darted over the holiday trimmings. “I believe he is actively involved in his parliamentary work.” Something in her demeanor caused Eloise to wonder if her friend were lying, it didn’t seem like her.
“I’m surprised he hasn’t yet married, such an adventurous and ambitious life would intrigue any number of ladies.”
A small painted wooden ornament clattered to the floor, rolling toward the wall. Sarah hopped up from her seat in pursuit. She came back more flustered and out of breath than the small exertion warranted. “Oh, dear, I’ve run out of ribbon and there’s this last portion yet to do.” Looking up, she fixed Eloise with an innocent stare. “You know, I’ve often thought the same about Eric. I would love to see him happily attached to a woman who understands his ambition.”
Eloise swallowed. This game her uncle expected her to play was far beyond her theatrical ability. “I thought I saw some of that ribbon among your holiday boxes in the sunroom the other day when we were painting ornaments. I’ll go check.”
Without waiting for a response, she shot up from her seat and darted out of the room.
CHAPTER EIGHT
RETURNING DOWN THE hall at a fast clip with a length of red ribbon bunched in her hand, Eloise paused in her trajectory as she came around a corner and heard voices in one of the rooms. Looking about, she realized she was near the study. About to resume her course, she paused again, ears perking up when she heard Eric's voice.
That voice had the uncanny ability to stop her in her tracks and mesmerize her, it resonated clear and deep and confident, something which she found all the more appealing given that it wasn't what she expected from someone who couldn't hear his own voice. Without realizing it, she began to inch toward the study door, intent on listening to that voice a moment longer.
“So you keep claiming Mallory,” his voice rang out in an irritated tone. “Yet here I am still playing messenger for you, when I already told you on multiple occasions, I want nothing to do with whatever it is you're working on.”
“I understand, Eric, truly I do. But you must also understand it is not in my best interest to leave just yet. If I do, he may realize the sudden change in my plans mirrors his.”
“It’s been over a week since he left for London,” Eric argued. Eloise paused, her breath catching. Her uncle left for London a little over a week ago... surely that was only a coincidence.
“And I had already made it known I had no plans to go to the city until after the New Year. I’ll have to go early now at any rate now that things are moving forward at the bank, but so close on his heels would warrant suspicion and negate the work I've already done to this point.”
Eloise leaned against the door frame, ribbon forgotten as she puzzled over the strange conversation. Why would Sir Thomas be so concerned with his travel plans following too closely to those of someone else? And why should any of it make anyone suspicious? The whole scenario, taken in parts and out of context as it was, sounded mildly sinister. She shook her head, angry at herself for eavesdropping. Straightening, she prepared to continue down the hall, but Mallory’s voice continued his argument before she could take her first step.
“Besides, it's not as though I'm asking you to do anything you haven't already been doing. Avery reports to you in any case, there is nothing at all different or odd in it.”
Reports to Eric? Eloise wondered, leaning into the door frame.
“Aside from the fact,” Eric’s voice broke in, “that all the news he brings me lately happens to be for you?” The words dripped with obvious annoyance.
“A coincidence based on discrepancies between my assignment and the tasks of the fiscal year.”
“Why don’t you get one of the London group to tail him and leave me out of the mix?” Eric growled.
“I have no way of knowing which informants he’s aware of and which he isn’t, it’s too risky.”
Informants? Eloise stepped back with a gasp, her hip bumping into a side table and setting a vase to wobbling. Eyes wide, her hands reached for the precarious piece, catching it just before it wobbled off its perch. Breathing a sigh of relief, she set the vase back into place with care, then looked down at the jumble of ribbon she’d dropped on the ground in her rush to save the vase. Taking one step forward, she leaned further into the hall, looking left and right to ensure no one saw her before crouching down to collect the ribbon, ears burning to hear the conversation in the study.
“But I did have that same thought.” Mallory continued. “I don’t have a tail on him, but I’ve secured the next best thing. An observer he’ll never suspect. Now, if you’ve had done harping at me, I’ve got to get back home to review these.”
Eloise turned her head as though she’d be able to see through the door, then rolled her eyes at her own stupidity before getting back to her feet.
Footsteps sounded along the floorboards and Eloise jumped in place, heart racing. She’d been so caught up in the conversation, she hadn’t considered what might happen when it ended. The men wouldn’t stay in the study indefinitely. In another moment, she would be found out.
“Wait a minute, Mallory,” Eric’s voice halted the advancing steps, reanimating Eloise enough to look about her for the nearest escape option. The last thing she wanted was for the study door to open and reveal her for the incompetent mole she was. She’d never be able to dart around the corner in time.
“Who’s this observer of yours?”
“No one with any connection to our work, and therefore above suspicion. I’m sorry, Eric, but I really must go.”
“Mallory,”
There. The door to a nearby room stood ajar. Eloise raced over with the lightest steps she could muster in her panic, ensconcing herself just as she heard the door to the study open.
ERIC PAUSED AS HE OPENED the door to the study, his eyes narrowing as he shifted his awareness from one end of the hall to the other. He planned to pursue Mallory, whose evasive description of his informant hasty retreat down the hall made Eric more than a bit suspicious. But something felt off. The moment he’d opened the door it distracted him, allowing Mallory to make his escape.
As always, had he been pressed to describe what was wrong or different, he likely wouldn't have been able to do so. The barely tangible Rattle in the doorknob as he'd opened the door to the study, the faint vacuum of a draft from across the hall, the hint of a shadow crossing the edge of his vision, all of it combined to convince him someone had been in the hall just before he and Mallory exited the study. Not that this should be any cause for alarm, as servants and family members frequently traversed the halls, but Eric's gut told him to investigate.
His eyes automatically turned downward, looking for some evidence of recent traffic in the hall. The carpeting revealed nothing, its fibers disinterested in immortalizing footprints. He focused on the study door and its surroundings. Nothing seemed amiss. He turned his attention to a side table next to the door... where the vase sat askew. Tilting his head, he approached the table, following the drape of the cloth
down to the floor, where the hint of something red peeked out from under the hem.
Kneeling, he lifted the hem of the tablecloth to find a length of red ribbon. Furrowing his brow as he picked it up, he studied the piece, but came to no conclusions before a prickling started at the back of his neck. Someone was watching him. Standing and turning, he felt that small vacuum again and this time could swear he saw a door sway down the hall.
Shoving the ribbon into his pocket, he took up a determined pace in that direction. Gripping the door handle, he walked into the room without hesitation.
In the far corner, Eloise straightened from where she’d been peering about the wall panels as if looking for a hidden door. She spun to face him, a small hand flying up to her chest eyes and mouth rounded in surprise.
“Can I help you find something?” he asked, approaching with care and attempting to remain focused. She stood with her back to a window, the diaphanous curtain filtering the light into a soft halo about her head and shoulders reminiscent of that first night he’d seen her in the ballroom.
“Oh, no I just—” she cut off her statement, flinching and making an irritated movement of her hand.
Paper. His mind clarified, prompting him to fish his notebook from his pocket. Handing it over, he waited while she explained herself. She didn’t meet his gaze when she handed back the materials. As Eric watched, a flush crept into her cheeks and his fingers twitched to trace the path of that color.
A few seconds later, she shifted her weight and glanced up at him, a crease forming between her eyes. He started and dropped his eyes to the paper he held.
I was on my way back to the sunroom and got turned around.
To Love in Silence (Currents of Love Book 3) Page 6
