She was unable to face the thought of meeting either of the brothers until she had composed her thoughts, and so she ordered her carriage and went with Jenny to Hookham’s.No book appealed to her tormented mind, however, and she returned home empty-handed.
She wished she never had to see Nicholas Delaney again.
When she returned home he was out.Eleanor smiled wryly.Not seeing her husband was likely to be easy to arrange.She would fill her time with such a round of engagements that she would rarely be in her home except to sleep, and in her bed Nicholas would never come near her.
Now that Amy was gone, Nicholas had reestablished some of the distance between them, and if they did chance to meet, Eleanor set the tone and kept it cool.She felt sometimes he eyed her with concern, but he never intruded a personal comment, and she maintained a front of busy cheerfulness.
One day, however, it happened they were together for breakfast.They both sat in pools of silence perusing the newspapers.
Eleanor glanced at him and realized how tarnished the gold was becoming.He was thinner, there were shadows under his eyes and new lines on his face.His life of dissipation was fading his tan to sallow.Her heart ached.How could he do this to himself?There was nothing she could do, however, to turn him from disaster.
And so it was another reason to avoid him, so as not to have to face his self-destructiveness.
Eleanor did try, despite the despair that sometimes gripped her, to take care of her health as he had asked.She did not stay out late at night; she ate regular meals although her appetite was poor; she daily drank three cups of goat’s milk—still warm from the animal brought down the street; and she took frequent walks in the fresh air.
One day as she strolled in the park with Jenny she thought back to that early day when she had believed she was being followed.Perhaps it was because she was thinking of it that she became convinced they were again being watched.
As it was afternoon, there were more people about, but she tried the same ruse as before and saw a man some way behind them who seemed vaguely familiar.Then she recognized him.It was Tom Holloway, the witness to her marriage in Newhaven.As she walked on she decided there was only one explanation for that.Her husband was having her followed.Perhaps he had also been responsible for the earlier occasion.He had not seemed very surprised when she had informed him.
Eleanor felt a burst of anger.Because he was incapable of decent behavior did he suspect her of clandestine meetings?It was incredible.It was despicable.
Suddenly an even worse suspicion flew into her mind.What if he was planning some harm to her?He had never wanted to marry her after all.Now he found himself irrevocably linked to a woman with whom he had nothing in common; a woman who shunned him; a woman who carried a child that had caused a rift between him and his brother and could cause his financial ruin.
“Ma’am!Mrs.Delaney!”It was Jenny’s breathless complaint that made Eleanor aware she had speeded up almost to a run.She slowed her pace.The maid looked at her strangely but said nothing, and Eleanor did not offer an explanation.
Common sense returned.If Nicholas felt bound, he had only to surrender all rights to his brother and be free and wealthy once more.She wondered, though.During that heated quarrel with his brother he had said he would not do that, and men were ridiculously prideful creatures.Would it seem better to him to arrange the death of herself and her child than to back down on his word?
It seemed incredible, but Eleanor had a low opinion of men these days.
She remembered Lord Middlethorpe saying, “Jealousy is a not very pleasant face of possessiveness.”Did he know that all Nicholas felt for her was a mad kind of possessiveness—a possessiveness fueled by goodness knows what jealousies of his twin brother, who, by the fluke of a few minutes earlier entrance into the world, had everything while he had nothing?
She discovered she was sitting in her room shaking, with Jenny rubbing at her hands.She had no idea how she had come there.
“Ma’am, are you all right?”
“Dizzy.I came over faint, Jenny.”She must never express her fears to the maid.“I must lie down.”
“Do you wish me to send for the doctor, ma’am?”
“No, no.I will be fine.I just need rest.”She was sorry to be snapping at the maid, but she needed to be alone.She needed to think.
When Jenny had gone Eleanor lay staring at the ceiling.Am I mad?Is this some freak of pregnancy?Could a husband really plan the death of his wife in this modern age?
Is he perhaps mad?He is charming and intelligent, but could he not be those things and deranged as well?Perhaps Lord Stainbridge knows this; perhaps that is why he wants to take me and the child into his protection.
But, said the voice of sanity, Nicholas has been nothing but kindness.To an unwanted wife who brings him no advantage he has never raised his voice, never mind his hand.What could possibly now prompt him to violence?
The Frenchwoman.Perhaps Madame Bellaire has finally agreed to marry him and he wants to be free.
Eleanor instinctively laid a protective hand on the swelling mound of her abdomen.What should I do?
What can I do?
Go.
Go where?
Of course, there was nowhere to go.Return to her brother was impossible, and she knew that if she went to Lord Stainbridge Nicholas would bring her back.Lord Stainbridge was not the man to be able to prevent it.Besides, she trusted the earl no more than she trusted his brother.
