"That's what makes you remarkable, my dear." Lady Egerton patted Eleanor's hand. "Most women in your position would have given up. Or caused a scandal. Or made everyone around them miserable. You simply... carried on. With grace and competence." She shot a look at Aubrey. "More than our son deserved."
"Much more," Lord Egerton agreed.
"Mother, Father, perhaps—" Aubrey tried to intervene.
"Now then," his mother continued, ignoring him completely. "I'm going to give you some advice, my dear. Woman to woman. My husband and I are leaving for France to visit our daughter, your sister-in-law, whom you’ve met briefly. But before we go, I want to share something important."
Eleanor leaned forward slightly, clearly intrigued.
"Men," Lady Egerton said solemnly, "never grow up. They pretend to. They wear fancy clothes and hold positions of power and manage estates. But inside, they're all still boys. Impulsive, emotional, prone to spectacular acts of stupidity."
"I say," Lord Egerton protested mildly.
"You fell off your horse during a grouse hunt last autumn because you were racing George Peters," Lady Egerton said without looking at her husband.
"I won the race."
"You broke your wrist."
"But I won."
Lady Egerton turned back to Eleanor. "See? Boys. All of them. The key to a successful marriage is accepting this fundamental truth and managing accordingly."
Eleanor's lips twitched. "I see."
"And here's the second piece of advice." Lady Egerton's voice dropped conspiratorially. "Men respond remarkably well to praise. Ridiculous amounts of praise. For the smallest accomplishments. 'Oh darling, you opened that jar so cleverly!' 'My, what a thoughtful letter you wrote!' They preen like peacocks and then try to do more things worthy of praise. It's quite effective."
"That seems rather manipulative," Eleanor said, though her eyes were dancing.
"It's not manipulation if it makes everyone happier." Lady Egerton smiled. "My husband has been trying to earn my praise for thirty years. It's kept him remarkably motivated."
"I dis—" Lord Egerton stopped at his wife's raised eyebrow. "Well. Perhaps a bit."
"Now then." Lord Egerton cleared his throat, clearly eager to regain some dignity. "My advice for managing my son specifically: he responds well to direct confrontation. Don't hint. Don't suggest. Tell him exactly what you think and what you need. He's dense as a post when it comes to women."
"Father!"
Eleanor was openly smiling now. "Thank you. That's veryhelpful."
"We try." Lady Egerton stood, pulling on her gloves with brisk efficiency. "Now, we really must be going. The ship to France leaves tomorrow, and we still need to reach Dover. But my dear daughter…" She paused, her expression softening slightly. "Take care of him. And more importantly, take care of yourself."
"I will," Eleanor said quietly.
"Good girl." Lady Egerton squeezed Eleanor's shoulder. "You are far too good for him, but perhaps he will grow into deserving you. If you are patient. And if he works very, very hard."
"Every day," Aubrey said from the bed.
"Hmm." But Lady Egerton was smiling slightly. "Come along, Richard. France awaits."
Lord Egerton paused at the door. "Try not to fall off any more horses, son. It's embarrassing for the family."
"Yes, Father."
"Good." His father's expression softened almost imperceptibly. "We are proud of you, son."
"Thank you, Father."
And then they were gone, sweeping out of the room with the same energy they'd brought, leaving Aubrey and Eleanor alone in sudden silence.
