Chapter 14

The evening sunshine filtered softly into the hallway and Sebastian took a deep breath. It was time for dinner. He walked lightly down the hallway, pausing to check his appearance in the mirror on the wall by an upstairs anteroom. His cravat was knotted in a new style, holding the high neck of his shirt closed. He tried a shy smile at himself, feeling nervous.

The evenings in the drawing room had become events he looked forward to—he had to admit that, if only to himself. He blushed. It was hard to admit it, for some reason, though it was the most natural thing in the world. He just hadn't expected it.

He was falling in love with Eleanor.

He drew in a deep breath. He had not confided that to anyone, but he could not deny it.

"My lord?" The butler appeared in the hallway, the trolley he pushed rattling a little with the heavy load of bowls and plates. "Dinner is here when you wish to eat."

"Thank you. Is her ladyship in the drawing room?" he asked hastily.

"She is," the butler informed him.

"Good."

Sebastian walked briskly past, heading into the drawing room. He wanted a little time to greet Eleanor before the butler arrived.

"My lady?" he called softly.

Eleanor was by the window, a book in her lap. The sunset was bright on the westerly hillside, the orange light illuminating her hair with reddish highlights. She wasn't moving. Though she stared at the book, her eyes were not followingthe text. Her thoughts were clearly not on reading.

"Miss Eleanor?" he called fondly.

"Oh!" She made a small, startled noise, her gaze darting from the book to the door where he stood. She flushed, embarrassed. "Sorry. I didn't know you were there."

"I know," he said softly. A small smile lifted the corner of his mouth. He gazed at her, and as he did, his brow knotted. Her skin was pale, her eyes tired looking. There were grayish prints of exhaustion under them. "My lady...you need more sleep."

"No..." she countered, though he could hear in her voice, in its breathy hesitance, how weary she seemed.

"Yes, you do," he said gently. "You are tired."

"How is your father?" she asked at once, setting the book aside. "Did he need something?"

He smiled. "He is well," he said quickly. He felt his heart twist, noting how her eyes brightened in relief. She had cared tirelessly for his father, expending each ounce of her energy on seeing that he was fed and rested. He frowned again. She took so much care that she was exhausting herself. "He is resting comfortably. He said he had eaten a plateful of gruel," he added hastily.

"I know," she said softly.

"Come, my lady," Sebastian interjected. "You must sit and rest. The butler is here with the food," he added, hearing the soft clatter of the trolley outside.

"Oh. Is it that time?" Eleanor asked, a small frown appearing on her brow.

"Yes," he replied gently. "Look, it's already nightfall."

"I didn't notice."

He chuckled. "You've been overworking yourself, my lady," Sebastian told her softly. He walked with her to the small table in the corner of the drawing room, where the butler was already unloading the dishes. A savory smell wafted from the big tureen and Sebastian sighed as the butler ladled out a dish of soup for him.

"Cream of spinach soup...it was always a favourite of mine."

"It's very good," Eleanor commented, taking a spoonful from her bowl as the butler retreated softly to the door.

"It is," Sebastian agreed warmly.

They chatted lightly about Papa and his recovery, eating the soup and then moving on to the main course. Papa was eating heartily, Eleanor informed him.

"I'm glad to hear it," Sebastian replied. "The physician said he should have another week of bed rest," he added, frowning as he recalled the list of things the fellow had recommended.

"Yes. I will insist on it," Eleanor said firmly. "He still needs to spend a few days in bed."

"I think you have more of a chance of insisting than I do," Sebastian told her with a chuckle. "Papa listens to you."

"Your father is very close to you, Sebastian," Eleanor said gently.

Sebastian swallowed. For all that he knew how much his own father mattered to him, he struggled to imagine he mattered as much to Papa. Her words comforted him.

"Thank you," he said softly.

Eleanor gazed at him, and he felt his heart melt. He cleared his throat. In the pleasant distraction of their conversation, he had forgotten something he'd had on his mind for a while.

"If you will wait a moment," he told her, as she pushed aside her plate from the main course. "I have something I would like to give you."

"Oh?" Eleanor's brow creased in a frown.

"I will return in a moment," he said, standing up and hurrying to the door. He could feel Eleanor's puzzlement as he hurried out, her confused gaze focusing on him as he rushed into the hallway.

He walked briskly to his office, and there he picked up a parcel from the desk. He lifted it up, swiftly checking inside the brown paper that wrapped the object, making sure it really was what he'd ordered from London. He walked down the hallway, grinning to himself. The gift had arrived remarkably quickly, brought to the manor from London on the mail-coach. He hurried to the drawing room, and went over to where she sat, frowning at him in puzzlement.

"This is for you," Sebastian said shyly. He handed her the paper-covered parcel. She took it, frowning.

"What is it?" she asked him, and, when he said nothing, she started to unwrap it. "What can it be?" she continued. "Did I forget something at Woodford?" she added, frowning at him.

"This is for you," Sebastian explained, answering her question. "It's a gift," he added, noting that he hadn't explained himself properly.

"For me?" She breathed, disbelief and surprise evident in her tone. He grinned, unable to hide his delight. She was so unusual, and it delighted him. She had not even suspected he might want to buy something for her.

"Yes," he said gently. "For you."

He held his breath as she unwrapped it. He felt his stomach twisting uncomfortably. What if she didn't like it? He'd been certain it was the right thing, but now that she sat with it on her knee, he wondered, suddenly, if he'd chosen aright.

"Oh, Sebastian!" she sighed in surprise.

He flushed, the tone of her voice whispering over his skin and giving him gooseflesh.

"Do you like it?"

"It's wonderful," she breathed. She held up the gift. "Is it really for me? Are you sure?"

He chuckled. "Of course it is, my lady." He smiled. "I think it is suited to you most especially out of everyone in this manor."

She smiled, eyes twinkling. She was so warm and happy, and it stole his breath.

"It's the best!" she chuckled. "It's the best gift. Oh, thank you. Thank you!"

Sebastian grinned. He looked at the book that she held, staring at the cover as if it was a precious gemstone.

"The Encyclopedia of Rare and Common Plants," she read aloud the words on the cover, "And Their Requirements and Care."

He felt his grin broaden as she ran a hand over the cover gently, as if she held silk from India. She opened the book and ran her finger down one page.

"On the species of lavender," she read, "its habitats, its preference and its uses in the home and in the apothecary's shop." She beamed.

Sebastian laughed. "I trust that you will find it useful, my lady."

"Oh, it's wonderful. Thank you. Thank you," she repeated, gazing up at him. Sebastian smiled down at her. She looked so happy, her cheeks flushed with warmth, and he could not resist her. He reached out, wrapping his hands around hers where they held the book.

"I'm so pleased you like it, my dear," he said softly. "So glad."

She stared at him. Her big greenish-brown eyes widened, and he tensed, thinking for a moment that he had upset her. She said nothing, but she did not draw her hands away from his and he held them, staring into her eyes.

"Thank you," he said softly. "Thank you for what you have done for my father. Thank you for comforting me. I am so thankful. I am so thankful that you could keep me company at this time." He took a steadying breath. The story of the lonely youth in the castle haunted him. He had felt so like that. And now he was not lonely.

"I am happy to be here with you," she murmured.

Sebastian took a deep breath. He let his hands move from hers but ached to hold them once more. The feelings of fear and isolation that had plagued him since his father's illness were suddenly insurmountable.

"Eleanor," he asked softly. "Might I ask you something?"

She frowned. "Of course," she said at once. "Anything."

He took a deep breath. "I will sit with Papa tonight," he began saying swiftly.

"But I..." she interrupted.

"No," he told her firmly. "It is my turn. I know I sat with him earlier today, but I wish to do it. You need rest. Let me."

"Very well," she agreed slowly, and he continued.

"It was not what I wished to ask you," he explained. "I wanted to ask you something else." He reddened, almost unable to divulge.

"What is it?" she asked gently.

"I will sit with Papa until midnight," Sebastian continued. "As we have been doing for the last few days. But could you...might you retire to my chamber to rest tonight? I will not be there until the early hours, and I will be tired when I return. Too tired for, well..." he went bright red. "I ask you this so that I might not rest alone. The darkness stretches out for too many hours, and to lie awake and worrying is unpleasant."

"Of course," she said softly.

Sebastian let out a sigh. "You will do this?" he asked disbelievingly. He had thought he was asking her more than was in her power to grant. If she truly disliked him, she would refuse. He could not imagine her doing that simply because she felt unable to gainsay him.

"I will."

Sebastian felt his heart flood with thanks. He cleared his throat, feeling too overcome for words.

"Thank you," he said at last. "That would be very nice."

He took a deep breath, and she gazed up at him and her smile made his heart fill, fit to burst, with warmth.

He kissed her hand tenderly and went to the door, his soul still soaring, to go and sit with Papa.