“You do not think I should believe him,” Eleanor said slowly, breaking into the quiet, unable to bear the lack of response. “You think him untrustworthy.”
Lady Cumbria let out a small huff of breath. “It is not that, no,” she said, speaking slowly and carefully. “I do not think he speaks falsely, in fact. What concerns me iswhyhe is telling you now.”
Eleanor’s eyebrows lifted. “I had not thought of his purpose in sending me that letter.”
“Could he desire to return to you?” Catherine asked, as Eleanor quickly shook her head no. “You do not think so?”
“Given that he said he knew I could not forgive him, I do not think there is any expectation of that.” Her eyes closed, a sharp pain stabbing her heart. “Besides that, he also wished me success this Season before ending the letter. That does not suggest that he hopes I might return to him… or he to me.”
Her cousin pressed her hand again and then released it. “I am sorry, Eleanor.”
With a gentle toss of her head, Eleanor drew herself up. “I am determined not to care,” she said, lying to herself as she spoke. “But I must admit, I am a little curious as to what it is he sought to protect me from.”
Lady Cumbria’s eyebrows rose. “Then that is what is troubling your thoughts, yes? Whether you wish to do that or not?”
Eleanor nodded.
“I cannot advise you,” Lady Cumbria said, with a small, slightly sad smile. “That is to say, Icouldtell you what my thoughts are, but I am choosing not to do so. This must be your own decision.”
A little confused, Eleanor held her aunt’s gaze. “I thought you would wish to advise me, Aunt.”
“Oh, I am glad to listen to you and to hear whatever it is you have to say, but no, I shall not tell you what you should or should not do.” Her aunt looked down at her hands in her lap. “All I shall say is that I did not pursue something akin to this when I was a debutante. I regret still that I did not.”
Catherine’s eyes flared wide, and she stared at her mother in shock.
“Much to my relief, the love of my life returned to me after some years apart,” Lady Cumbria continued, her smile returning. “But still, whilst I have great happiness now and have had for many years, I often think about what might have becomeof me if my dear husband had not chosen to come back to me as he did.”
This made Eleanor’s heart squeeze painfully. She had already lived some months being separated from Lord Finchley, having believed him to be the very worst sort of gentleman, and she the greatest fool in all of England. That letter had changed everything. No longer did she think poorly of him, no longer did she believe herself to be naïve. Instead, she saw that there was this as yet unknown object that had come between them and, whilst he ought to have explained, he had chosen not to do so and to step away – and that, in some way, had protected her.
She looked down at her lap and then closed her eyes. “I think I must find out from him what happened. Even if it leads to nothing more than a conversation, I will be glad to know the truth.” A curl of anticipation began to fill her core, but Eleanor pushed it away hurriedly. She could not let herself hope for anything more than an understanding of the past, for that was all she could pursue at the present moment – and even then, that might not come.
“Is that not Lord Finchley there?”
Her head shot up, and she quickly moved to the other side of the carriage, looking out of the window. Catherine was sitting opposite, her finger pressed against the window. “See? He is standing there, and that child has pressed something into his hand.”
A rap on the roof from Eleanor’s aunt had the carriage come to a stop.
“A note?” Eleanor watched as the child scampered away, having delivered his message. She blinked in confusion, watching Lord Finchley’s face darken as he read the note in his hand.
Then, without warning, he began to run after the child in question, following him down a dark alleyway with hurriedsteps, though Eleanor did not believe that he would be able to catch the boy.
Whatever was he doing?
“We can continue, Mother,” Catherine said, sitting back in her seat and gazing at Eleanor with wide eyes. “Well, whatever that was about, it clearly upset Lord Finchley.”
“And it may not have anything to do with the past circumstances between you,” Lady Cumbria warned as Eleanor tried to be sensible and listen to all that was being said. “It could be something quite uninteresting, such as another gentleman refusing to pay what he owes Lord Finchley from a game of cards or the like.”
“It could be, yes,” Eleanor agreed, her curiosity burning like hot coals in her stomach. “But I do not think that I can linger on in silence, Aunt.” Seeing the understanding flicker in Lady Cumbria’s eyes, she let herself smile quietly. “I must know more. I must knowwhyhe stepped away from me as he did and what it is that he protected me from. For if he is not a scoundrel, as I believed him to be, then he is the honorable, kind-hearted and affectionate gentleman that I fell in love with… and still love today.”
It was not difficult for her to admit such a thing aloud, and there came no surprise into either her aunt’s expression or her cousin’s eyes. Eleanor was relieved at that, glad that neither of them thought her foolish for having such a deep affection for the gentleman, still although she could not even think to imagine what Lord Finchley felt for her, if anything at all.
“Very well,” Lady Cumbria said, gently. “But be careful and cautious, my dear. Do not allow your hope to grow too strong, for you may yet find it dashed to pieces.”
Eleanor nodded. “Thank you, Aunt. I shall be very careful indeed, I promise you.”
6
Earlier that same day.
