Luke hovered near them, not quite part of the conversation, yet not standing apart either.
“We met at a New Year’s celebration in Old Shoreston. The public house there hosts a gathering for any townspeople who want to start the new year with their neighbors. Apparently, Giles was feeling particularly alone out here in this pile of stone and joined us for the first time.”
“Hold now. This pile of rocks is going to be your home soon,” North remarked, but he was laughing.
The widow swallowed hard again.
“I’d negotiate for a large allowance for updating the decor,” Belle leaned in to mock-whisper without thinking.
Eleanor shot her a grateful look before elbowing North in the ribs. “That is an excellent idea. I shall.”
North groaned. “Belle, please. Do not coach her in negotiating. I’ll be destitute.”
Luke snickered and stepped into the group. “I’ll keep her busy helping me negotiate all the work for Free Your Spirts, if she’ll allow me.”
“What is that?”
A servant announced supper, so Luke explained his idea and the background for it over the soup course.
Eleanor seemed very interested and asked several questions as the servants changed out plates for the next course.
Belle smiled at Luke’s animated answers and moving hands. She dearly wanted to help him see this project through, but she also wanted him to succeed without help, as she knew he could. More than that, she simply wanted to be with him. However, she could not reconcile just how to do that without causing him harm in society. And she declined to be anyone’s mistress again.
The Black Widow hadn’t accepted her change in parameters, and now she was relieved. She did not want anyone besides Luke. Reminding herself she had deferred any decision until after evaluating this woman’s reaction to her, she shook off her thoughts and rejoined the conversation.
Eleanor said, “That sounds wonderful, Luke. We’d like to come visit and see if we can help when it’s established. I wish my son would find his calling.”
“You have a son?”
“Two, actually. One, Bruce, manages the public house in town where Giles and I met. My younger son, Alexander, works for his brother, but is contemplating either going to London or joining the military. He is a restless soul.”
“How old are they?” Belle asked.
“Six-and-twenty and two-and-twenty.”
Both were close to Luke’s age. Thinking of Luke’s mother dying and its effect on him, Belle asked, “May I ask how old they were when their father passed?”
“Ah, well.” The widow stared down at her food, her cheeks darkening. “I can’t tell you about Bruce’s father. He was a mistake I made at seventeen. The father, not Bruce, of course. I moved here after he was born and presented myself as a widow for respectability, as I’m sure you can understand.”
Belle nodded.
Eleanor continued. “I met Alexander’s father two years later. We fell in love and married, and he raised Bruce as his just as he did Alexander until he succumbed to a fever five years ago. This weather is tough on people, and I almost moved south. I’m so glad I didn’t.”
North reached out to pat her hand. “As am I.”
Belle was stunned. This woman had borne a child out of wedlock, yet an earl was marrying her. Yes, it was North, who was the most open-minded earl she’d met, but it was still staggering to consider.
Luke stepped into the silence. “Perhaps we can go into town for midday dinner at the pub tomorrow and meet them?”
North shot his son a grateful look.
“That would be lovely. They’ve met Giles, of course, but they’re still shy around a titled lord, no matter how often I tell them he chews his food the same as we all do.”
Belle giggled, delighted by the older woman’s pragmatic view of North. “Giles, eh? I’d forgotten that was your name.”
North smiled.
Eleanor responded. “I like having a special name for him, just as he is the only person I’ll allow to call me Ellie. My sons were shocked when they heard him use it.”
