Damnation, she liked this woman. However, she needed to push the situation to show Luke what people’s reactions to him would be to reinforce her reasons not to wed him.
“I am sorry I won’t be able to meet your sons. I am leaving on the morrow.”
“Bellissima, no—” Luke started.
Eleanor’s brows drew together. “You are not staying for Christmas? And perhaps the wedding? I was very much hoping you’d consider standing up with me.”
“You’ve just met me.” Belle gaped at her. Perhaps the woman did not know about her past. It was time to enlighten her. “Besides, I hardly think it appropriate for a courtesan to be standing up for anyone at a wedding, especially the person marrying her past paramour.”
Luke gasped and North frowned.
Before they intervened, Eleanor replied, “Don’t be silly, my dear. That was years ago, and obviously you both have found better matches. Youarehere with Luke, are you not?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“I am not in a place to cast stones, based on my past. Nor did I expect Giles to have remained celibate after his wife passed over a decade ago.” Eleanor shrugged. “I do not see the problem.”
That had not gone as planned. Belle’s confused gaze slid to Luke, who wore a huge grin. Her jaw clenched.
Chapter Twenty-Six
How could shecontinue arguing with Luke about besmirching his reputation? Damnation, she’d needed that example. First Luke had dismissed her arguments, then Charlotte and Bessie had. She’d expected North to send her packing when she’d arrived on his doorstep. When he’d welcomed her with open arms as his son’s betrothed, Eleanor had been her last hope.
Perhaps hope was the wrong word. A maelstrom of hope and terror swirled in her gut. Overwhelmed by confusion, she declined pudding.
The others did as well, and Eleanor told North to take Luke to the parlor for drinks, while she and Belle enjoyed sherry and some feminine companionship.
North nodded and kissed her cheek as he stood, making a point to ask a footman for another glass of cider to be sent to the parlor.
Luke grimaced at the mention of cider, and Belle snickered, sobering as Eleanor turned to her.
“I sense some tension. Between you and Luke, perhaps? Or is it me?”
“No, not at all.” Belle struggled to string words together, still trying to formulate a plan on how to dissuade Luke from pursuing her when he returned to London.
“So you and Luke are to be married? Are you planning to have the ceremony here or in London?”
“No, no. I mean, he asked, but I—” It was awkward explaining this to someone she’d only just met.
Eleanor leaned against the chairback, tilting her head. After a moment, she nodded.
“You do not feel it is appropriate for someone with your background to marry a future earl.”
Mercy, this woman of North’s was wise. And a more perfect match for North’s open-mindedness and reserve, she could not have conjured in a thousand years.
When Belle remained silent, Eleanor continued. “Do you feel that my association with Giles is inappropriate also?”
“No! Giles—North—should marry whom he pleases, and he seems very taken with you. You stand up to him, too, which I think is always a good balance with a titled lord.”
“Well, then. Forgive me for asking as we just met, but I’d like to understand. What is the difference?”
Belle balked. What was the difference? She trotted out her arguments, but they sounded weaker and weaker each time she said them. “There is the age difference.”
Eleanor lifted a shoulder and dropped it. “By my guess, you are halfway between the men’s ages. So why was one acceptable and the other not?”
Ugh. She, too, sounded like Charlotte.
“And I’m, ah, well-known in London. His reputation would be shredded.”
