His father sat opposite him, just as they had on the way up to Edinburgh a few weeks previously. It felt like an age since they’d done so. That day and night on the Ben had changed him profoundly. He knew now that he could keep Eleanor safe. Thathe deserved her, and that together, her brains and his beauty, they could do anything.
“Anything wrong?” his father asked before he cracked his newspaper open and fell into the daily natterings of the world.
Who cared about the outside world? Not when he had to meet with Mr. Piper. When he had to figure out his own financials, to prove to Mr. Piper he could support her. A merchant like him would want to know where the money came from. “I’m anxious to get back to London.”
“Oh? It seemed like you were enjoying yourself in Scotland.” There was a twitch at his father’s mouth that Tristan finally noticed. It was his father’s tell for teasing.
Tristan narrowed his eyes. “Yes. I enjoyed my time in Scotland immensely. But I’ve pressing business to attend to.”
“Any of it having to do with arranging a meeting with Mr. Piper?” His father acted as if he were actually reading the newspaper and not torturing his third-born.
“As a matter of fact, yes, I do plan on that. Along with taking a meeting with the man who pulls the purse-strings of my inheritance.”
His father’s eyebrows shot up. “And who is that delightful fellow?”
Tristan was too agitated to play anymore. “Papa. Please. I’m crawling out my skin because of this.”
“Oh, all right.” His father dropped any pretense of reading the paper. “I can tell you that in addition to the portion you already receive, I have set aside a small bit from your mother’s dowry to go to you upon your marriage. You may tell Mr. Piper that Miss Piper shan’t want for anything.”
Tristan sagged against the train’s cushioned seat in relief. “Oh, thank goodness. I was worried, after talking with Herringbone.”
That piqued his father’s interest. “About the title’s finances?”
“He made it seem like it was in trouble, that there wasn’t enough and he had to marry an heiress to keep the estate afloat.”
His father blinked rapidly. “Unless he’s made some unwise investments that I don’t know about, I can’t think of why that would be true.”
“Or maybe that he’s using it as an excuse to not marry?” Tristan suspected that it had to do with the penniless Lady Emily. He and his father shared a look that seemed to say that was exactly what was happening.
The rest of the trip was made in relative ease, though Tristan was still anxious to be in London. They arrived late, and while Tristan had hoped to speak to Mr. Piper as he picked up Eleanor, the merchant did not show. A footman collected Eleanor’s trunks and then Eleanor herself.
“I’ll come to you tomorrow,” he whispered to her as she wafted by him. She looked back at him with those great velvety brown eyes, and he knew wild dogs couldn’t keep him at bay.
*
Eleanor arrived homewell after dark. Her ankle throbbed in pain. She was still using Lord Rascomb’s walking stick. She hobbled up the stairs and asked for a bit of ice for her ankle. At least it was May, where the stores of ice were plentiful. She didn’t have the energy for a full bath, and she appreciated the work of her lady’s maid. Her traveling costume was not as simple as her outdoor clothes were.
Still, it felt good to be home, wearing a new, clean nightshift that didn’t smell vaguely of horses or oatcakes or the smoky peat of fires. She was nibbling on a tray of cold cuts when her mother burst into the room.
“You’re hurt?” her mother, who had not bothered to meet her at the train station, practically shrieked.
Eleanor could do without the histrionics. “I sprained my ankle quite severely.”
“Let me see it,” her mama insisted, lifting the poultice of ice and mustard seeds. She made a noise that Eleanor could only assume was anguish. “It’s awful! Those people tried to kill you!”
Eleanor laid back against her pillows. “No one tried to kill me. It was a bit of bad luck. And Mr. Bridewell saved me.”
“What’s this?” her father wandered in. “I hear your mother screeching, then Sellers tells me you’re hurt? What in blazes is happening to this world?”
“Papa, I’m fine. It’s a sprained ankle. It’s still swollen, but not nearly as badly as it was when it first happened.”
“It was worse?” her mother keened.
“See here, I won’t let them take my little girl and put her in harm’s way for some ridiculous political stunt! That’s not empowerment, that’s endangerment! I won’t allow it! Oh, I’ll stop it completely! They think they can use up common folk like us? Think again, I say!”
“Stop,” Eleanor said, taking hold of her mother’s arm. But her mother didn’t stop her ridiculous fussing. “Papa,” she begged, taking a hold of his arm, though he was still shouting about noblemen.
But this had been her whole life. She’d been the audience for their antics, while they’d barely registered her presence. Like now, when neither of them could stop themselves from their dramatic performances.
