Chapter 14

Her wreath of wildflowers was not going the way she planned. Eleanor glanced at her friend and pouted. Julia had already created six while she was still on her second one.

"This isn't right," she complained. "Mine look a mess. You need to stop before I feel worse about myself," she added jokingly.

Julia chuckled. "Empty your mind of all your troubles, and you'll do just fine," she said. "You're still holding onto your anger. It has been days already. It's time to let it go."

"That is easier said than done," Eleanor replied. "But I'm not going to talk about my aunt or brother. I said today needs to be a day of tranquility, and I'm determined to make that happen. I once heard that anger makes you sick. The last thing I need is an illness."

Coming to Julia's home had been the best decision for her. She was away from the constant noise and fast-paced world that London offered, but most importantly, she didn't have to deal with her brother and aunt's pressure. They had taken it too far at the ball and failed to consider her feelings. If not for the duke's company that night, Eleanor might have lost her patience entirely.

Listening to others control who she should speak to, dance with, and who should interest her was one of the worst things for a person who favored freedom. The two people who should understand her best were taking away that freedom and thrusting her into a situation that would bring her unhappiness. It wasn't right.

"Come here," Julia insisted. She patted the space beside her. "Let me massage your temples."

"I would love that, but not on such a hard surface," said Eleanor. "I would rather we move to the parlor."

They were behind the house, sitting on steps leading from the house to the lawn. They had collected the wildflowers near the woods earlier that day at Eleanor's request, but now she wished she hadn't bothered. Her wreath looked like someone had taken flowers and scrunched them before dumping the lot in a heap. Instead of bringing satisfaction from creating something pretty, she only felt disappointment.

"I have no qualms with that," said Julia. "I've had it with being outside today. We have barely been in the house since breakfast."

"Speaking of breakfast, that was hours ago," Eleanor pointed out. "I need something to nibble on. Preferably something sweet."

"No more cakes," said Julia. "We can ask the kitchen to cut some fruit."

Eleanor pursed her lips. "Fine, fine, as long as it's something to eat. Shall we go?"

Julia nodded, and they both stood up. She didn't argue or question Eleanor, but simply agreed to everything. A wave of gratitude overcame Eleanor, prompting her to give her friend a sudden side hug.

Startled, Julia turned her head. "What is this for?" she asked. "Not that I do not like hugs, but you're not one to give them so easily."

"It's to say thank you," Eleanor told her. "Thank you for putting up with me and supporting me. I know I've been difficult. I will probably continue being somewhat difficult, so I'll likely thank you again."

Julia smiled and turned into the embrace. "I will always be there for you," she said. "Always."

Eleanor took comfort in that. She felt her life was spinning a little out of control, but she could always depend on her friend to give her precisely what she needed, no matter the situation. However, given the turmoil in her heart, Eleanor worried she wouldn't be at peace until the matter was resolved. Something had to change, but she didn't think her aunt or brother would deviate from their plans for her. That meant she would have to change, but she couldn't do that. Her future happiness depended on it.

***

Eleanor was so annoyed with her aunt and brother's antics that she stretched her stay on Julia's family estate from a few days to weeks. They kept sending letters asking when she would return, but she gave every reason under the blue sky to remain longer. Not being around them meant she wouldn't be coerced into another man-hunting situation.

"Do you feel that heat?" Julia remarked, twirling her parasol above her head. "Just one week until summer begins, but it feels like it has already arrived."

Eleanor had her parasol by her side because she wanted to feel the sun's rays on her skin. Her complexion had taken on a faint golden tint that complemented her eyes and hair nicely. Aunt Helen would complain and insist Eleanor bathe in milk and honey for a week, so she would enjoy every bit of the sun for as long as she could.

"Everything is so bright and pretty," she said. "Let's have another picnic today. I feel my brother will come to get me soon, so I'd like to enjoy my taste of freedom a little while longer."

"I'm already ahead of you," Julia replied. "The servants are preparing a basket as we speak. It will be in the garden when we return."

"Lovely!" Eleanor exclaimed with a clap. "We should dip our feet in the stream afterward. Maybe we'll convince a few fish to nibble on our toes. I like the ticklish feeling."

Julia shook her head. "You like the oddest things," she said. "I cannot stand anything touching my toes, be they insects or fish. You can keep that experience to yourself."

Eleanor shrugged. "Suit yourself." She spun her parasol and breathed in the fresh spring air with a contented sigh. "Should we go mushroom foraging first thing tomorrow morning? One of the tenants on our land made a meat and mushroom pie that I am currently craving."

"Do mushrooms not show themselves in autumn?" Julia asked.

"I thought there might be varieties in spring and summer," said Eleanor. "Perhaps we should ask one of the servants. I would hate to pick anything poisonous."

"Why not just use mushroom powder to season the pie?" said Julia. "We can ask the cooks to add a lot of mushroom powder to get the flavor."

Eleanor shook her head. "It's not the same as biting into one. Do you think the kitchen has some pickled? The flavor might be different because they're soaked in vinegar, but it might work well with beef meat. Perhaps venison, too."

"You always tend to want to eat things out of season," Julia pointed out. "Always wanting what you can't have."

"It is not done intentionally," Eleanor argued. "Shall we turn back? I feel peckish."

Julia nodded. "I'm ready when you are."

They spun on their heels and returned to the garden for their picnic. Eleanor wasn't hungry; she just had a habit of nibbling whenever stressed. She glanced at her supportive friend. Julia had patiently put up with all her moods and tantrums about her aunt and brother since her arrival and given her opinion and perspective where necessary. She didn't judge Eleanor or call her defiant and childish for wanting to get her way. Julia understood Eleanor better than anyone and could always tell what she needed.

A slight breeze played with the curls framing her face. Eleanor had opted to leave her hair in a simple plait rather than the usual styles her lady's maid created. Even her dress was white and plain, with only a little ruffling along the top of the bodice. She would have gone barefoot if not for Mrs. Huxley's refusal for a young woman to walk outside without shoes. Julia's mother was much like Aunt Helen, but the former woman was calmer and didn't give into hysterics over silly matters.

"I can smell the garden from here," Julia said. "Imagine how much stronger the scent will be in summer. Mama is already planning summer picnics."

"I envy your mother's green thumb," said Eleanor. "She can make anything grow. She should have hothouses and sell exotic fruit to the ton. She will make a tidy amount for herself."

"Mama doesn't have a head for business or numbers," Julia replied. "People will take advantage of her. Papa is no better. It's a wonder how our family has maintained good wealth all these years. Sometimes, I worry I'll wake up to find my dowry gone."

"Your parents are not that irresponsible," Eleanor assured her. "And they're allowing you to choose your suitor. They're not like Grant and Aunt Helen throwing men at me, or rather, throwing me at men. These weeks without them have been wonderfully tranquil, but I must admit I miss them sometimes."

"I'm sure they miss you, too," said Julia. "Surely you can sit and talk so things may return to normal? As much as I love having you here, you cannot stay indefinitely."

Eleanor sighed. Julia was right. She couldn't stay with the Huxleys forever but didn't know if she was ready to return home.

"Everything would be easier if they would stop trying to control my life," she said. "I really enjoy spending time with His Grace. Why is that such a problem? You think he's a good man, yes?"

Julia rolled her eyes. "For the umpteenth time, yes! I think he's a wonderful man, but it's not my opinion that matters. Perhaps you should try explaining why you like him."

"To what end?" said Eleanor. "You saw how they reacted when they first heard about my interest. They turned a lovely day into a disaster. Even the food I'd eaten started churning in my belly. It started as such a lovely picnic, didn't it?"

"It was," Julia agreed. "But there's no use crying over something that has already happened. You should look forward and decide what you want to do. If you're sincerely interested in the duke, you should be prepared to come against opposition from the main people in your life. You'll need to remember why you like him whenever you feel like giving up and agreeing with whatever your aunt and brother want."

Eleanor just wanted the freedom of choice, which her aunt and brother refused to give. The duke was first a symbol of freedom, but since the ball, she got to know him better and liked what she learned. Their conversations were stimulating, he had many experiences she found fascinating, and he genuinely listened to everything she had to say. It was challenging not to grow a little infatuated with someone like that.

"I need to spend more time with him," said Eleanor.

"Do you mean a courtship?"

Eleanor scoffed. "Do you think they would allow that? My aunt and brother would sooner lock me in my room. It's silly, though, isn't it? Parents marry their daughters to older men all the time. Why should I be any different? At least His Grace has a full head of hair and is in excellent health. The only thing that gives his age away are the streaks of gray in his hair and the shallow wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and across his brow."

"I will admit he's a devastatingly good-looking man," Julia agreed. "Men like him just get better with age. Lord Richard will be just as handsome when he reaches that age."

"My thoughts precisely," said Eleanor.

"But there is one thing we haven't discussed since you arrived," Julia said.

"And what is that?"

"How you think he feels about you."

"Oh," said Eleanor. "I suppose we haven't."

She felt her belly rumble quietly. She was always hungrier than usual when getting some exercise in the sun.

"His opinion would matter, wouldn't it?" said Julia.

Eleanor nodded. "It would."

"So..." said Julia, leaving her words to trail off.

Eleanor raised an eyebrow. "So what?"

"Oh my goodness!" Julia cried, stopping in her tracks and turning to her. "How do you think he feels about you? Does he feel the same way? Has he said anything to make you believe he's interested? Has he done anything significant?"

Eleanor chuckled. "Oh," she said. "I'm sorry. I think the peckish feeling has turned into hunger. I wouldn't mind a fresh bun filled with cold meat and pickles. I hope the servants added them. Something vinegary to cut through the richness of the meat."

Julia sighed and shook her head. "You lose the ability to focus whenever hunger strikes. We should just eat something and continue with the conversation afterward."

Eleanor grinned in agreement. Although they were chatting about something important, it paled in comparison to her hunger pangs. Julia had once jested that Eleanor would be late to her own wedding because she would want to have a good breakfast before the ceremony.

They arrived in the garden moments later and settled on the blanket provided by the servants. Eleanor didn't waste time opening the basket and taking out bowls and plates of food.

"Pickles!" she cried, taking out a jar of mixed vegetables. "Did they add onions? They work best with cheddar cheese."

"Fix me a roll with whatever you're having," said Julia, pouring chilled soda water into two glasses and adding elderflower syrup. "I have never known anyone else to combine the strangest foods but make them taste delicious. You have a palate for flavors. Perhaps you were a famous chef in another life."

"Do not let Aunt Helen hear you talk about past lives," Eleanor warned. "She'll call the reverend and sit you down for a sermon. She did that to Grant when he joked about worshiping Aphrodite. It was an amusing day."

"I have never heard that story," said Julia.

"He was twenty-two and heard about a secret club of pagans who worshiped the goddess and lived on a grand estate filled with scantily clad beautiful women falling at their feet," Eleanor explained.

"I've heard of that group before," said Julia. "What kind of woman does your brother find beautiful?"

"The usual English rose," Eleanor replied. "He's rather shallow. He needs a woman who will make him a better man. Preferably a woman with flaws and someone who isn't outrageously pretty. Most beautiful women have terrible dispositions. Lady Victoria would be a good choice."

"Lady Victoria?" Julia repeated in surprise. "Why her, of all people?"

"She's comfortably pretty, a little bookish, and likes children," Eleanor listed. "I think she would keep my brother happy and humble."

Julia lowered her head. "I see."

Eleanor noticed a slight change in her friend's behavior. "Is something wrong?"

"No, not at all," Julia denied, lifting her head. "You haven't yet said if you believe the duke is interested in you."

"I haven't had a bite to eat yet," Julia reminded her. "However, I will say that he seems to accept my peculiarities. He hasn't made me feel uncomfortable for being myself. I appreciate that. That alone makes him far better than all the men I've met."

Eleanor buttered a fresh bread roll with softened butter and added layers of cheese, ham, and pickled vegetables. She added a little fig preserve for sweetness and handed the first roll to her friend. Julia still appeared disturbed by something, but Eleanor knew her friend wouldn't reveal anything until she was ready.

"Have you tried to look at the situation from your aunt and brother's perspective?" Julia asked. "His Grace is much older and a widower. You're beautiful and come from a wealthy family—you have better prospects. You can marry a younger, titled, and wealthy man. Why settle for someone who has already lived a life?"

"Goodness!" Eleanor cried. "You speak as though His Grace is on his deathbed. He looks better than most men closer to our age. But why does age matter if I sincerely like him?"

"Are you not worried what others might say about the match?" Julia said.

"Others have not treated me particularly well, so I couldn't be bothered," Eleanor replied with a shrug. "It should only matter what I think about him."

"I suppose that is true," Julia agreed. She smiled. "You have always held your ground once you made up your mind. I wish I could be as resolute as you."

"You're beautiful, Julia," Eleanor pointed out. "People bend to your will. You merely need to snap your fingers for something to be done."

Julia shook her head. "It's not what you assume," she said. "We're both beautiful, but I fit the standard every young woman must meet. I say and do the right things and can manipulate a situation in my favor. You, however, stay true to yourself, even when it goes against society's standards. That is what makes you appear peculiar."

"You're better than the standard," said Eleanor. "In fact, you set the standard, and all women have to try to be as wonderful as you. That makes you rather powerful."

Julia looked down and picked at her food. "It's stifling being perfect all the time. I want to be more like you." Her golden-brown eyes lifted to meet Eleanor's green ones. "I have always admired you because you inspire me to try and be who I want to be, not who I'm expected to be."

Eleanor's smile turned upside down. "Oh, Julia," she said, reaching for her friend's hand. "I love you just as you are. Trying to be any more perfect might put you at goddess level."

Julia chuckled. "Do not jest when I'm being sincere," she said. "I hope you know that I cherish our friendship and will always be there for you no matter what. You could become the most hated woman on earth, but I would still be your best friend."

Eleanor's heart squeezed with affection. "I'm going to hold you to that," she jokingly warned.

They both laughed, chasing away the heaviness of their conversation and just enjoying their meal as friends. At that moment, it was more than enough for Eleanor. Her troubles could wait.