His eyebrows rose. “Why, it means ‘my child’, Mistress. A good and loving way to talk of your…um…” He gestured to her belly. “But ’tis an ancient Welsh term, not much used nowadays. I’m surprised you know it.”
Jeanne smiled, aware that she’d shocked him. He didn’t believe that she knew a boy rested next to her heart, but she was convinced that what that lovely little Ellyll had prophesied would come true.
And it did.
Shortly thereafter, Jeanne and her husband welcomed a hearty and healthy baby boy, who lived a long and happy life, fathering a large family of his own, and beginning a line that flowed through many generations—to the day a girl child was born to Sir Anthony and Lady Cecily Molliney of Molliney Hall.
They named her Elinor.
Chapter One
Lady Elinor Molliney turned her face skyward and closed her eyes, breathing in the fresh scent of the forest that surrounded her.
The dappled sunlight warmed the path beneath her feet, birdsong provided a delightful symphony for her ears, and she could hear nothing else that might disturb this much-needed peace.
She needed peace more than anything else at this moment. The chance to walk alone, to enjoy her own thoughts and ideas, to simply be without the need to concern herself about what she considered ridiculous things.
For example, she had no maid or footman accompanying her.
That shocking fact would have been denounced as foolhardy and damaging to her reputation. Only loose women walked unattended, apparently.
Elinor snorted. Should she drop her handkerchief, she was quite capable of picking it up herself. But that ability mattered naught when compared to the horror of seeing a gentlewoman of rank bend down and retrieve her belongings from the ground where she’d dropped them.
She cautiously picked her way over some large roots and headed for one of her favourite spots, a glade occupied by a massive horse chestnut tree that spread its shade over a sizeable area. Grass and ferns had thrived, but the larger shrubs had preferred their sunshine rather than the dappled shadows, so a natural sort of enclosure had been created, only to be discovered quite a few years later by an inquisitive child.
It had been a magic spot for Elinor from the moment she’d stumbled upon it; a place where she could sit and dream, watch the occasional rabbit or two, and stare up into the skies through the splayed leaves of the tree.
Her family didn’t know about it, and now she offered up a prayer of thanks to the Gods of nature for helping her keep her secret safe. She couldn’t imagine her brothers’ reaction to it, nor did she want to find out.
She probably would have forgiven them since they had no idea how difficult it was to be a girl, and then a young woman. They could ride, go where they wanted, fight, shoot whatever they fancied, and explore all the freedoms encouraged by their family and Society. A young man must be utterly up to the nines.
A young woman, on the other hand? Elinor snorted. They were barely permitted to be twos.
However, since both her brothers were happily married now, and settled in their own homes, she no longer had any need to worry about being discovered while enjoying her time alone.
Summer was about to explode; the ferns were green, the wild dog roses already scented the air, and, not far away from where Elinor sat, an elder tree showed off its creamy white bouquets of flowers. There were more elder trees near the fields on the other side of Molliney Park, planted there not for their beauty so much, but for their reputation; it was said by many countryfolk that elders could stop the milk from souring.
Was that true? Elinor pondered the question logically and arrived at the conclusion that it probably wasn’t. But then again, the elder had a reputation for its association with all things magic, and since that reputation had its roots many centuries ago, she wasn’t about to argue the point.
Not that there was anyone to argue it with.
She took a deep breath, savouring the fragrance of the living forest around her. This was where she was at home. This was where she was comfortable and free to be herself.
This, she admitted, was heaven on earth, and she’d turned her back on the ballrooms and mansions of London without a second glance.
Of course, there was always a caveat.
Idly, Elinor picked up a fallen chestnut, knowing that within its spiky shell lurked a seed that would, if properly cared for, produce another chestnut tree. She tossed it away to join the others littering the ground, hoping that perhaps a squirrel or two might be curious enough to investigate it.
But the forest was quiet today, with only the song of the birds and the whispering accompaniment of the trees for solace.
Leaning back against the trunk, Elinor closed her eyes and listened to the natural symphony, feeling the last of her tension drain away into the moss beneath her.
She might have dozed a little, perhaps a few moments, no more than that.
But the touch of something on her shoulder made her jump and turn to find out what it was.
It wasn’t awhat, it was awho.
