“I will consider it,” he said.
That was as good as a yes. Because she would not leave him be until he relented. She’d see Eleanor Harcourt humiliated at her very own soiree.
Chapter
Eighteen
Julien was noticeably distracted. Preoccupied to the point of complete inattentiveness, in fact. Adrian was more than a little puzzled by his friend’s state. “Are you troubled by something, Julien?”
Julien looked up from the ledger page he’d been staring at. The very same one he’d stared at nonstop for the past quarter hour. “Oh, no. Not especially. Just tired of looking at bloody numbers and columns. Didn’t you say that Miss Ashworth was coming to visit Eleanor this afternoon?”
Adrian nodded. “I did. You seem awfully invested in the comings and goings of Miss Ashworth, Julien.”
“I’m a bit concerned for her. That is all. She is a friend to my sister and is facing a difficult time and a not inconsiderable degree of scandal. Concern is only natural,” Julien protested a bit too vehemently.
“Umm. I see… Julien, do you remember all the young ladies I was introduced to over the years? Perfectly lovely, perfectly eligible and more than sufficiently accomplished young woman whom I had absolutely no interest in courting?” Adrian asked him.
“Of course, I remember... Because you compared all of them to my sister. I know years ago that you were in love with her and that she was equally enamored of you. It was simply a matter of time as I waited patiently for the two of you to figure it all out,” he admitted, still distractedly drumming his fingers on the green baize atop his desk.
Adrian sat up from where he’d been lounging negligently in his chair. “Then I am going to be a better friend to you than you were to me. If you have feelings for Miss Ashworth, then do something about them. Tell her. Now, before it is too late.”
Julien halted his drumming. “I have no notion of what you speak.”
Adrian laughed softly, though the sound was not at all mocking. “My friend, you are incapable of lying… perhaps not to others, but certainly to me. I have known you too long.”
“What if I do have feelings for her? What good would it to do say something now when she is least inclined to give her heart to anyone else.” Julien sighed. “I cannot pursue her in good conscience at this time. She is heartbroken over that bounder and I would not take advantage of her vulnerable state by seizing an opportunity when her heart still belongs to another…. Even if that person was, is and will always be unworthy of her.”
“Caroline Asworth is beautiful, accomplished, well connected. While her fortune is modest, there are many men who for whom that would be no obstacle at all. And many of them will not be so chivalrous as you in waiting for her broken heart to mend.” Adrian pointed out, not meanly but realistically. It was an astute observation and one that he could see gave Julien pause. “Do not wait so long that opportunity slips through your fingers, my friend, as it very nearly did to me.”
Julien turned back to the papers on his desk. “You’ve inherited several homes in the past few months, Adrian. Why don’t you go to one of them right now and leave me in peace?Saints preserve me from the recently matched who now feel everyone else must follow suit and pair up like we are boarding some biblical ark.”
Adrian took no offense. He merely laughed. “You only get testy when you know I’m right. But I can take a hint… I will take my leave of you for today. And if you truly wish to know that Miss Ashworth is well, you should simply ask her. An expression of concern would not be remiss whatever your intentions are.”
Eleanor staredat Caroline at a complete loss as to what to say. Finally, after several false starts, she managed, “I would not wish for my happy ending with Adrian to be salt in your wounds.”
Caroline looked up from her embroidery which lay untouched on her lap. “Oh, no! You mustn’t think that, Ellie. Right now, your happiness with Mr. Grant is perhaps the only thing that allows me to have hope.”
“Hope of what?”
Caroline sighed wistfully. “That I might one day find someone who loves me as he loves you. Someone that will never falter and be true to me always. Is that silly?”
Eleanor was saddened by the wounded note in her friend’s voice. It wasn’t that William Sutton had broken her heart at all. It was that he’d severely bruised her pride and left her confidence in tattered ruin. Caroline felt foolish for believing in him, foolish for waiting patiently for so long, for accepting his lies that he was only waiting for his grandfather to shuffle off before he could propose without the old man’s disapproval. But clearly that was not the case as he’d run off with the actress whom the old man would surely not approve of at all. “No, Caro. I don’t think it’s silly at all. And I think I anyone is deserving ofsuch happiness, it is you. You have ben steadfast and loyal where it was neither deserved nor appreciated. It is my most fervent hope that you find someone who is deserving of you.”
“May I confess something to you?” Caroline asked, “Something that might make me sound fickle and horrible?”
“You can confess anything to me and I would never think you horrible,” Eleanor replied with conviction.
“I am not as heartbroken over him as I ought to be. Certainly not as heartbroken as one should be when an ages long courtship and not quite publicly announced betrothal ends so abruptly! The truth of the matter is, if it wasn’t for the scandalous manner in which it has happened, I find I don’t mind very much at all.”
Eleanor was silent for a moment, taking that in. It had always seemed curious to her that Caroline would settle for William when she could have had her choice of suitors. “Why did you ever entertain him as a potential match?”
“I suppose over the years I became rather less than confident in myself and my ability to catch a gentleman’s attention… My stepmother has only ever told me, at length and with great repetition, that while I might be pretty enough, I possessed neither the wit or charm to be a true diamond. That I should be grateful for William’s continued attentions. And I suppose, having heard it so often, I came to believe it.”
Vivian Ashworth was a truly wretched woman. Eleanor had never liked her, but she had never truly hated her before that moment. “She’s a jealous cat who only wishes her own daughter was half as pretty as you.”
Caroline smiled but it did not quite reach her eyes. “Enough about my maudlin thoughts about difficult relations and William’s perfidy. Neither will not be improved by dwelling upon them! Tell me what is left to do before the wedding and before the ball.”
“Nothing,” Eleanor admitted. “I’ve organized both with such enthusiasm that I’ve essentially left myself nothing with which to occupy my time. Is it dreadful to be so eager?”
