“Which cannot happen soon enough,” she pronounced rather emphatically. So much so that a passerby gave her a sidelong and disapproving glance.
Adrian looked at her then, a suggestive twinkle in his eye. “We could always create a greater scandal to divert their attention. Do you want to be scandalous with me, Eleanor?”
She went breathless at the very thought. Stolen kisses, embraces when they could manage to sneak a moment alone together. All of it had rendered her positively mad with desire. But her brother had proven far more overprotective and suspicious than she had ever known him capable of being. He watched the pair of them like a hawk. Not that he did not have reason to do so, she admitted to herself somewhat ruefully.
“Since the resulting scandal would likely include my brother demanding to meet you at dawn, I think I shall endeavor to behave as a lady ought to. At least for a few days longer,” she answered, not entirely able to keep the disappointment from her voice.
“Ah, well. In less than a week’s time, we will be wed and then we can be as scandalous as we like in the privacy of the new home I have just acquired for us.”
Her heart nearly stopped. “You bought a house? Adrian, is that… that is a terrible expense!”
“And I am terribly wealthy now, lest you forget. I inherited everything from my late uncle courtesy of my cousin making a series of terrible decisions. Yes, we have a house. A space that is ours for you to make into our home… a home for us and for any children we might have.”
The very thought of it thrilled her. It was a dream come true for her. “I cannot wait for that. For our life together to truly begin.”
“We’ve waited long enough for it, haven’t we? No thanks to my idiocy… How long?”
“Five days until we marry… and only a few days that after, Eleanor couldn’t hide her smile, nor could she hide her blush. “We will make our debut as a married couple at he annual ball that I organize and Julien takes credit for will be a celebration of our marriage, You really don’t think it’s cruel to expect Caroline to be part of all this?”
He sighed as they continued their stroll. “I cannot answer that. Only Caroline herself can tell you if it is too much to bear. Though, to be frank, I would imagine that she is glad to have the distraction. It is likely a relief to focus on something beyond her own problems.”
Eleanor hadn’t considered it from that perspective, but with it put before her thusly, she had to concede the point. Certainly for herself having another subject to occupy her time with would be of benefit. In all the years when she’d been quietly pining for Adrian, she’d thrown herself into planning balls, into charitable works, into a half dozen hobbies that had slowly dwindled in interest for her as they failed to prove distracting enough.
Their walk, pleasant thus far despite the somewhat heavy nature of her thoughts, shifted. She felt Adrian tense beside her. And when she looked up, she instantly knew why. LordMarklynne was there. And on his arm was Miss Langford. She was beaming victoriously and Lord Marklynne appeared… well, as Lord Marklynne. Staid. A bit stodgy. Certainly a bit puffed up on his own importance.
“There is no reason that his appearance should be upsetting for either one of us,” she whispered.
“I cannot like the man.” Adrian made the admission somewhat grudgingly, “Though in some way I should be thankful for him. I might never have found the courage to acknowledge my feelings for you, to risk ruining my friendships with both you and your brother, had it not been for his actions.”
“You mean courting me?” She replied cheekily. “Because no one prior to him had ever dared to do so?”
“You had opportunities for other suitors and you rejected them all rather soundly,” he reminded her. “He was the first one you entertained seriously.”
Her smile faded a bit, replaced by something wistful and a bit sad. “Because I’d given up all hope of you ever recognizing what was literally right before you.”
He paused then, his steps halting as he took her hand and turned her to face him. “But I am very aware of it now and grateful for it. Do you feel compelled to speak to the boring bas—lout?”
“No. We shall simply nod as we pass them. There is no need to give them the cut, or for them to cut us, but we need not pretend great friendship or even any sort of affinity at all… We are, at the end of it all, merely acquaintances.”
And that is precisely what they did. A brief acknowledgement and then they were both on their ways. But Eleanor felt a frisson of unease. And, unable to halt herself from doing so, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Miss Langford glaring daggers at their backs. She’d made an enemy there even if through no fault of her own.
A slight shiver raced through her. The girl was the sort to be petty and vindictive.
“You are cold,” Adrian said with concern. “You should have said so. I’ll see you home at once.”
“I’m quite alright really, but I should return home. Caroline is coming over this afternoon and… I’m just so worried for her. I’ve never seen her so glum.”
Miss Verity Langfordseethed with quiet, resentful fury. Fury she dared not reveal to Lord Marklynne as he would no doubt consider such an emotional display unseemly. She had worked very hard to secure his favor and had no intention of spoiling it now. But how it goaded her that a spinster like Eleanor Harcourt—plain, old, dowdy and boring—had been his first choice. And it was that resentment which had her plotting and planning. They’d been invited to the Harcourt’s masquerade ball. Likely because the invitation to Lord Marklynne had gone out prior to Miss Harcourt’s decision to throw him over in favor of Mr. Grant. A foolish decision in Verity’s estimation. After all, who would want to be a mere Mrs. When they could be Lady Marklynne?
“I do so love a masquerade, Henry! Surely the Harcourts would not be so mean as to rescind the invitation,” she said, pouting prettily. She’d learned men had one of two responses to a pouting woman—both typically resulted in efforts of appeasement.
“I hardly think that would be appropriate, Verity, given the circumstances,” he said, ever so stodgily.
“Oh, posh! We just passed them and Miss Harcourt was perfectly pleasant. If she has no hard feelings, surely you do not.After all, had she not elected to accept Mr. Grant’s suit, we would not be here together now,” she cooed. “Unless you would rather be with her. Is that it, Henry? Would you prefer to have Miss Harcourt on your arm?”
He sputtered ineffectually. “Well, no… of course not. I’m very happy to be with you. Very happy, indeed. But it might be perceived as being a bit… scandalous.”
She smiled, her expression the picture of innocence while her gaze remained completely cold. Calculating. Like a viper ready to strike. “It’s a masquerade, Henry. Scandal is part and parcel. And with Lady Lyndehurst in attendance, surely you can see it would be quite proper.”
