Chapter 15

Eleanor lay on her back, staring at the clouds. She had eaten a tad too much of the picnic, but she was blissfully full.

"I feel like a stuffed hog," she said. "A happy one."

"The hog is dead and about to be eaten," Julia pointed out. "What is there to be happy about?"

Eleanor tilted her head slightly to see her friend. Julia was also on her back, staring at the sky and holding her parasol to keep the sun off her face.

"Why must you take everything so literally?" Eleanor asked. "Fine, I'm as happy as a fox who just stole two chickens from a mean farmer."

Julia chuckled. "That is a little better because there is satisfaction involved. Did this farmer try to kill the fox before?"

"On numerous occasions," said Eleanor. "His mate lost a tail because the farmer put an ax to it. The tail is mounted on his wall as a reminder that he almost killed one of the foxes."

"My, that is a mean farmer," said Julia. "But he's justified if the fox keeps stealing his chickens. A chicken a day amounts to seven a week and twenty-eight a month. That is—"

"Three hundred and thirty-six a year," Eleanor finished. "I suppose I understand why the farmer would wish to kill me, especially since I stole two chickens."

Julia chuckled. "Naughty, naughty, fox. You have put your entire family in danger. How many children do you have? And why are you a Father Fox and not a Mama Fox?"

Eleanor groaned as she rolled onto her side. She kept her hand on her belly to avoid the food and drink sloshing around too much.

"You're asking for too many details," she said. "Am I turning this into a story?"

"Well, I haven't heard one of your stories in a while," said Julia. "Tell me more about the fox, his family, and the farmer. What does the farmer look like?"

"Big, burly, and broad with a swarthy complexion," Eleanor described. "He used to be a sailor but lost his leg to Leviathan, so he decided to become a farmer. His wife is the widow of his childhood best friend, but they do not have children together. They're too sour to give affection."

Julia propped her head on her hand. "Is his wife comely?"

"She used to be, but life became hard after she married her first husband," Eleanor replied. "Her smile made her exceptionally pretty, but it died with all her hope of being a wealthy married woman. Her first husband gambled too much."

"This sounds like a sad story," Julia complained. "I wanted something amusing."

"The background is sad, but the story itself is amusing," Eleanor promised. "Well, besides Mama Fox's tail being chopped off." She sat up. "I cannot lie down anymore. I think I'm getting indigestion. Can we walk instead? I need to settle all this food."

Julia wagged her finger. "Serves you right for having three bread rolls. I told you to stop after the second one, but you insisted you could handle it. Two glasses of elderflower soda water, three bread rolls, fruit, and a slice of pound cake—what did you expect?"

"I would have preferred not to have the, I told you so moment," Eleanor complained. "Help me up. My belly won't let me get higher than my knees."

"Is this how you'll behave when you're pregnant?" Julia asked as she rose to her feet. "You'll probably insist that your husband carry you around. It will be easy if he's built like His Grace."

Eleanor put her hands in Julia's palms and dug her feet into the blanket as her friend helped her up. She thought about being in His Grace's arms and rather liked the image. He had big, muscular arms that could easily hold and carry her around.

"Your cheeks are turning pink," Julia remarked. "What are you thinking about? The duke?"

"If you must know—yes," she confessed. "Yes, I am. You put the image in my head."

"I did not tie your hands behind your back and threaten to stone you," said Julia. "I merely mentioned it. Your imagination ran away with it. You've always had such a fertile mind. Keeping up with you as children was sometimes hard, but I soon learned to follow the flow. Questioning everything you did or said was a waste of time."

Eleanor laughed as she stretched her arms above her head. "You have always been wise and understanding. It's part of your charm. You know precisely what people need and how to handle them. I fumble miserably in social situations while you thrive."

"You're just as charming, but one has to get to know you first," Julia pointed out. "His Grace discovered this during your very first meeting. He must be perceptive. Perhaps being older has helped him see what others cannot."

Eleanor pursed her lips. No matter what they were discussing, somehow, the duke's age was always mentioned. He possessed many wonderful qualities, but his age appeared to be the main thing on everyone's mind, including that of her best friend.

"What is the matter?" Julia asked. "You seem annoyed."

That day had been tumultuous, with many emotions shared. Eleanor didn't want to add more, especially after such a lovely picnic and conversation. She didn't have to reveal the issue with everyone mentioning the duke's age.

"Nothing is wrong," Eleanor lied. "I'm merely annoyed that I ate so much, and now I'm suffering for it."

"You'll feel better after the walk," Julia assured her. "Perhaps you should have had a nap after eating."

"I suppose I am a little sleepy," Eleanor agreed. "But what if I wake up with a stomach ache? No, I'd rather walk."

She looked down and found a few leaves attached to her dress. She kept their ambling pace as she removed the leaves, only coming to a halt when Julia abruptly stopped walking. Eleanor looked at her friend in question and noticed her surprised expression.

"What is it?"

"It appears your brother is here," she revealed.

Eleanor's head snapped toward her brother, and she saw him approaching. He had finally arrived to take her home, but she wasn't going to go without a fight.

"Is my hair still in place?" Julia asked, drawing Eleanor's attention.

"Is your hair still in place?" said Eleanor. "Why on earth are you suddenly worried about your hair?"

Julia merely blushed and repeatedly touched her hair as Grant neared them. Frowning, Eleanor made a mental note to ask her friend about her strange behavior, but for now, she needed to address her brother's appearance. She'd spent many days thinking about what she would say when she saw him again, so she had every argument at hand to throw at him. However, before she could even get a word out, her brother lifted his hands in surrender.

"I'm not here to argue," he insisted.

"So, you're not here to talk to me?" she asked.

"We need to talk," he confirmed. "However, I, erm...I'm here for Miss Huxley."

He scratched the back of his head as he spoke, a telltale sign that he was feeling shy. Grant had last looked this shy many years ago when he grew infatuated with an older woman. Now, he was an overly confident man who caused women to blush and not the other way around.

"For Julia?" Eleanor asked just to confirm she had heard right. "You're here for Julia?"

"Yes," Grant replied simply.

Eleanor felt her friend's nervous glance before she turned to her. Julia's cheeks were bright pink, and she could barely look Eleanor in the eyes.

"My brother is here to see you," she said.

Julia nodded and lowered her head. Eleanor looked between her brother and best friend. The situation was confusing, especially the blushes and...Realization finally dawned the more she observed them. Eleanor couldn't understand why she hadn't seen this before. In fact, she felt foolish for not having seen the situation for what it was sooner. All the clues from the evening at the Royal Theater, the day of the disastrous picnic, and his frequent questions about her—these had all culminated in one glaring possibility. Grant wanted to court Julia! Eleanor couldn't begin to pinpoint when her brother's feelings toward Julia changed or when her best friend grew welcoming of his advances.

"The both of you..."

She couldn't even finish her sentence. A ridiculous part of Eleanor had imagined she and her friend would remain unmarried forever and live together as happy spinsters. Julia had never shown genuine interest in any suitor, so Eleanor had leaned into that thought of being together forever. It was easy to ignore that her best friend was exceptionally beautiful and was more likely to marry than be a spinster.

Eleanor took a step away from her brother and best friend and observed them together. Setting aside her own wants and needs, she couldn't deny that Grant was a good man despite his flaws and would make a good husband for the right woman. He and Julia were very much alike, and it was more of a wonder why they had never considered a match before.

They appeared to be waiting with bated breath to hear what she had to say about the situation. Yes, she was shocked and a little annoyed that she hadn't noticed their growing feelings for each other, but she adored them both and would rather wish them happiness than anything else.

"Fine," she said, nodding her head. "Fine. I'm not going to stand in your way."

Grant's shoulders sagged, and Julia beamed at her. "Will you chaperone us?" she asked.

"Of course," Eleanor agreed.

Julia hugged her arm briefly and turned to Grant expectantly. "Shall we?"

They walked ahead of Eleanor and were soon lost in their private conversation. It was the first time she had ever walked behind her friend and brother, and it felt a little lonely.

"I suppose I'll have to grow accustomed to this," she muttered.

Perhaps she wouldn't mind if she also had company, but only one gentleman would do. Eleanor smiled as she recalled her conversations with the duke. There was still so much more to talk about, and she had often thought about their future interactions. It would be lovely to meet during the day, perhaps at a park or one of the libraries he mentioned. Sitting down with a tea tray would be even better. They could talk more about his travels, and there was so much more she wanted to know about him personally.

Part of Eleanor warned herself not to get attached to someone who had not expressly communicated their interest. The duke found her intriguing, but she could merely be a novelty until he grew accustomed to her peculiarities and no longer found her fascinating. She shrugged and sighed at her thoughts as she admired the blooming flowers around her. She might as well enjoy whatever interactions she might have with the duke, just as she admired the flowers that would eventually die once the colder months arrived. Nothing lasted forever, but that didn't mean she couldn't make the most out of a moment.

Eleanor found herself humming the same music they had danced to at the ball. She had felt as light as a feather in the duke's capable arms as he had spun her around and taken her across the dance floor. She closed her eyes and recalled how his scent had formed a cocoon of comfort and intrigue around her with every movement. Eleanor could just about smell the heady notes of citrus, spices, and a fresh scent that made her want to bury her nose in his chest.

"That man is just too alluring for his own good," she muttered.

She undoubtedly wasn't the first to be drawn toward him and wouldn't be the last. Eleanor wasn't anything special, but for a little while, the duke had made her seem like the most riveting person in the world. No matter what happened, she would always be grateful for that.

"Eleanor," Julia called, rousing her from her thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"Grant is feeling a little hungry," her friend replied. "I will ask the kitchen to prepare another picnic basket."

Julia had just said, Grant. She had never used his first name in Eleanor or Grant's company. Their relationship seemed to be progressing quickly.

"Another picnic?" said Eleanor. "You're eating that between the two of you. I cannot touch another thing to eat."

Grant scoffed. "You say that now, but we'll see when the food is before you."

Eleanor pursed her lips as Julia chuckled. "Please do not attempt to strangle each other in my absence," said Julia. "I'll return in a moment."

She skipped toward the house, her chestnut-brown hair bouncing with every movement. Grant couldn't take his eyes off Julia, but he eventually turned to Eleanor when her friend disappeared from sight.

"We should talk," he said. "I promise not to yell, but this is important."

Eleanor inwardly sighed. "We should talk about your disappointments and disapproval another day."

"This isn't about that," he said. "It's something else. An offer of marriage."

Eleanor blinked in shock. That was the last thing she expected her brother to say. She hadn't received one of those in a while. She wasn't interested, but she was curious to know who it was.

"What man was foolish enough to approach you with a marriage proposal?" she asked. "I do not recall anyone showing that much interest."

Unless she counted Lord Langston. He had been rather insistent, but Eleanor was confident he had come to his senses and forgotten all about her.

"The man is Viscount Langston," her brother replied.

Eleanor slowly widened her eyes. Well, she didn't see that coming.