Her aunt cast a glance towards Catherine, but then rose to her feet. “Very well, if you wish it,” she said, as Eleanor too got to her feet, both surprised and concerned by the weakness she felt in her frame. “Come. It may be that you will find your inward strength a good deal more quickly than you expected, Eleanor.”
There he is.
“There.” Eleanor turned around on her heel and looked back in Catherine’s eyes, her breathing growing tight. “I am sure that is Lord Finchley.”
Her aunt and her cousin both looked over Eleanor’s shoulders, but no expression of recognition draped itself over either face.
“I myself am not acquainted with the gentleman,” Lady Cumbria said over the hubbub of the laughter and conversation that came from so many gentlemen and ladies present for the fashionable hour. “Is he a little short?”
“No.” Remembering how she had needed to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him, Eleanor’s face grew hot. “He is tall, taller than I am by some margin.”
“With fair hair?”
Eleanor shook her head. “No, he has light brown hair, green eyes, and a sharp jaw.”
“And a Roman nose?”
She has seen him.“Yes, that sounds like it is he,” Eleanor answered, her whole body trembling visibly now. “Does he look this way?”
Catherine shook her head. “No, he does not.”
“Then he has not seen me.” Relief bubbled in her chest. “I do not need to do anything other than stand here.”
Her aunt captured her arm. “You must turn around, Eleanor. You must look straight at him and, should he look back at you, turn your head in the cut direct.”
Worry jolted through her. “What if he comes towards me?”
“He will not,” her aunt said, a confidence in her voice that Eleanor did not have. “If he thinks to do so, I will make it quite clear that you are not acquainted with this gentleman and do not wish to be. I shall be discreet, of course, but you need not fear, Eleanor. Turn now, and look at him.”
Her heart was pounding so furiously, she was sure her aunt could hear it. Gripping her fingers tightly together, she turned slowly and, as her aunt and cousin moved around so they might face her with their backs to Lord Finchley, the gentleman glanced across towards them – and then caught her gaze.
Eleanor’s heart dropped to the ground, her whole body going cold and then burning hot in a few seconds. Lord Finchley’s eyes had rounded at the edges, his lips unmoving, his whole body standing stiff and straight. She could not imagine what it was he was thinking upon seeing her. Surely he had expected it? Surely he, as she had done, had realized that she would be in London for the Season? Eleanor breathed out a shallow breath, hearing her aunt’s voice but not taking in any words she said. Waiting, she was certain that soon, a small, laughing smile would tug at the edges of his mouth and he would look away from her again, laughing at the foolish trust she had placed in him. Her heart threatened to break apart all over again as she watched him, her throat closing up as he continued to stare at her.
And then, a red flush tore into his face, and he turned bodily away from her, his back to her again. Eleanor blinked furiously, feeling as if a heavy weight had been pulled suddenly from her as she stared at his back.
He had not smiled.
“Are you quite all right, Eleanor?” Catherine took her hand in her own two, uncurling Eleanor’s fingers as gently as she could. “You did very well.”
“Yes, you did,” her aunt agreed, searching Eleanor’s face as she finally tore her eyes from Lord Finchley. “What happened?”
Eleanor shook her head, barely able to speak. “I thought he would laugh, that he would grin over at me, displaying his lack of consideration towards my feelings. That there would be some sort of triumph in his look, but… ” Her eyes squeezed closed as she tried to make sense of what she had seen.
“There was not?”
Shaking her head, Eleanor let out a shuddering breath and then looked back at her aunt and cousin. “There was no sense of victory or of mockery there. Instead, he looked almost… ashamed.”
“And so he should be,” Catherine declared as Eleanor’s heart slowly began to return to a steady beat. “After all that he has done to you, I am glad he feels so.”
Eleanor tried to nod, but her eyes returned to Lord Finchley’s back, wondering why he had appeared so. Could it be that there was more to his departure than there seemed?
And if there was, did she truly want to begin to find out what that might be?
4
Rupert nodded. “Yes, that is so,” he said, finding the entire conversation about horses utterly disinteresting. “I have two pairs of greys and find them to be excellent mounts. My brother is the one who has an exceptional interest in such things, however. He is the one you should speak with when it comes to the purchasing of such things.” He nodded to his brother and, with a broad smile on his face, Lord Preston quickly began speaking with Lord Chamberlain about his expectations when it came to purchasing new steeds.
“You are not interested in hearing about horses, I think.”
