Chapter 7

The morning air was scented with dew, the clouds low on the horizon, the first real chill of autumn making the mist settle along the riverbank. Sebastian gripped the reins tightly, glad of his thick coat, and rode towards the manor. He had woken with a headache after a few brief hours of sleep and gone for a ride to clear his head before breakfast.

"I'm half starved," he told his horse, Starburst, as they rode. His horse, a black thoroughbred with a white blaze, snorted as if in sympathy. Sebastian leaned back, slowing the horse from a canter to a trot. "Yes," Sebastian added, patting his horse's neck gently. "I know. You need breakfast too."

He leaned back a little more, slowing the trot to a walk. He was tired, his head pounding. The garden appeared slowly as they rode down from the river to the lake and he stared at it, his eyes—tired from a long night without much sleep—taking in the trees and bushes around the house.

"No flowers, eh."

He grinned to himself. Eleanor had been quite particular about that—her first and only comment on the house and grounds at Ramsgate.

He swallowed hard. He felt a little guilty. He'd rushed off without much explanation, on her first day at the house. He would have liked at least to take dinner with her, but urgent business from London—as brought to him by Mr. Fulmore, his solicitor—had kept him busy almost the entire night. He stifled a yawn and blinked, sliding a little forward on his horse.

Best get indoors soon, he told himself firmly. I'm almost asleep in the saddle.

He could find her and have breakfast with her, at least. His thoughts drifted to Eleanor. She had looked quite lovely in her white gown. She was not a society beauty, but with that strong, handsome face, she was undeniably appealing.

She probably hates me; he thought a little remorsefully. It was his own fault—he couldn't help teasing her a little whenever they spoke, just to watch her heartfelt and annoyed response to all the little irritations he threw her way. She had a magnificent temper, and he enjoyed seeing it flare.

He leaned forward, increasing their speed to a trot again, and they hurried up the path.

Ramsgate was set in extensive grounds, and they rode down through the prolific growth of oak trees, down past the north lawn—good for playing lawn bowls in the summer, but very shaded in the colder, darker months—and then past the hedges that enclosed what had been planned to be an Oriental Garden. As they neared the house, Sebastian frowned.

A distinct, metallic sound drifted over the hedge to him. It was the sound of someone digging. He frowned.

"He's busy early," he commented to his horse, who snorted at the sound of the noise. It was unusual to hear a gardener starting his work before nine o' clock in the morning. Sebastian rode down the path, looking around to catch a glimpse of the industrious fellow.

His eyes scanned the garden, looking for the source of the noise. As he let his gaze move, he caught sight of a form. Someone was near the big oak tree, digging in the lawn. He frowned, his eyes focusing on the figure he saw there.

"What in..." he murmured, and leaned forward, trotting swiftly ahead. "Eleanor!"

He stared. It was indeed Eleanor—she was standing on the lawn, wearing a white dress in simple linen, her hair tied out of her face with a cord. She was holding a shovel and digging in the earth with apparent strength.

She heard him approach and looked up, startled. When she saw him, she scraped her hair away from her eye with a pretty, but dirty, hand.

"Good morning," she greeted him briskly.

"Eleanor," he repeated, and blushed, realizing it was the first time he'd used her first name to refer to her. "What are you doing?"

"Digging," she said curtly. He laughed.

"I can see that," he chuckled. "But...well, I wouldn't let the chief gardener catch you. He'll be incensed when he sees what you've done to the lawn."

"He'll be pleased when he sees daffodils growing around this tree," she countered, not seeming perturbed.

"A flowerbed of daffodils." Sebastian repeated. He blinked, not sure if he'd imagined what he saw, and the entire conversation to boot.

It was too strange.

"Yes. Is it breakfast?" Eleanor asked, not even slightly ruffled.

"If you wish to eat breakfast, then yes. It is usually served at eight o' clock," he explained. "If you would like to come in, I can show you the breakfast room?" He gestured to the house, feeling his heart twist. She had been here for hours—almost a full day's worth of hours—and yet he had barely shown her the house or the garden. He swallowed hard, looking searchingly at her.

"I would..." she began, but they were both interrupted by the sound of wheels crunching on gravel, and then, just a few seconds later, feet running on the path towards them.

"Mr. Elstone. What is it?" Sebastian asked, as the butler ran up to them.

"My lord! A visitor. Just arrived." The older man, who must have been at least two decades Sebastian's senior, was having a hard time drawing a breath. Sebastian lifted a hand, trying to indicate to the man that he should pause and gather himself before telling them more.

The butler paused, drawing a few deep breaths, then began again.

"My lord. A visitor. The coach just drew up now."

"Did you see who it is?" Sebastian asked, his frown deepening. It was only eight o' clock in the morning. Who could possibly be visiting at such an hour, and unannounced? It was most unprecedented.

"It is your aunt, my lord. Lady Waddingham."

"Oh, for..." Sebastian caught himself before he swore. He glanced at Eleanor.

"My lord?" she asked, sounding concerned. Sebastian frowned.

"We should go in at once," he replied, feeling his heart thud. Aunt Tessa would doubtless disapprove of Eleanor being outside in the morning, wearing an old dress, with no cloak to warm her and sturdy, mud-encrusted boots; working in the garden. He spoke so quickly, it was only when he was turning his horse that he thought, first of all, that she had called him "my lord". Secondly, he realized that he was riding, but she was walking. He stopped at once.

"Would you like to get on?" he asked, gesturing to the horse. "I can ride with you to the house. It'll be faster."

She stared up at him, her green eyes skeptical. An expression like horror crossed her face, her gaze becoming more nervous as she eyed his horse.

"No. No, thank you," she said, walking briskly towards the house. "I'll walk."

"Wait," Sebastian called, laughing disbelievingly. "If I'm riding, you can't just walk."

She carried on, striding up the path and Sebastian halted, jumping neatly down from the horse.

"What are you doing?" Eleanor demanded as he walked up to her, Starburst walking beside him. She looked over at Starburst like she might eye something dangerous.

"Being a gentleman," he said, in a light tone. She looked at him, one brow cocked, and he elaborated. "A gentleman cannot ride while a lady is on foot. It is not seemly."

She held his gaze, her own green and confused and supercilious, all at once. He grinned to himself.

"Well, if you say so," she agreed.

"I..." He was about to agree that he absolutely did, categorically, but then a noise made him look up and he tensed.

"Bastien!" Aunt Tessa called, using the nickname she always gave him. She was dressed in a dress of charcoal taffeta, her long hair that was mostly gray but with streaks of auburn still visible piled up under a charcoal turban-style hat. Her long, thin face was a picture of startled surprise.

"Oh..." Eleanor whispered, standing still on the path. Sebastian reached over protectively. He knew Aunt Tessa very well and liked her, but he had no idea how she might react seeing Eleanor dressed like that. She was, after all, particular about the heir to Ramsgate and she might disapprove of the future countess being dirt-covered and dressed in simple clothes.

He rested a hand on Eleanor's shoulder, his own heart racing, his palm tingling. But before he had a chance to speak, to introduce the two formally, Aunt Tessa gave a big gasp.

"Oh!" she murmured. Her gaze moved over Eleanor where she stood in her dirty boots, her hair tumbling about her shoulders, her face smudged and dirtied. "Oh. She is the one."

Eleanor looked up confusedly, and Sebastian glanced at her, then back at Aunt Tessa. He felt just as confused and disbelieving as Eleanor.

"Aunt?" he asked cautiously. "Can you explain what you mean?"

"She is the one, Bastien! She is the one."

Sebastian let out his breath in a sigh. He knew his aunt. She was always like that—she said the strangest things on occasion, and she never felt the need to explain.

"Aunt, I'd be delighted if you could step inside and join us for breakfast, if you'd like? Or at least a cup of tea. But first, allow me to introduce Lady Glenfield formally to you. Aunt, this is Eleanor, the new Lady Glenfield. Eleanor, please meet my Aunt Tessa, Lady Waddingham."

"Delighted," Eleanor murmured, giving a low curtsey. Aunt Tessa, watching Eleanor, let out a sigh.

"She is undoubtedly the one. Come, my dear," she said, turning to Eleanor. "Come. Let us go indoors. It's far too cold out here. You haven't a cloak with you to keep you warm."

Sebastian grinned to himself, watching Aunt Tessa shepherd Eleanor towards the house. Aunt didn't so much as glance his way. He felt his grin broadening as he realized how unmerited his worrying had been. She was clearly enchanted with Eleanor, to the point that her favorite nephew, as she always called him, paled into inconsequentiality.

He was still smiling as he wandered up the stairs towards the house.

The ladies had taken the long path towards the front of the house, but he had to take Starburst to the stables first, so he took the path to the kitchens, patted his horse fondly and left him in the care of the groom, then wandered around to the terrace. As he stood there, considering the gardens, he heard a sound.

A coach approaching.

"Oh, for..." He swore. He glanced around. It was a coach, indeed, and he recognized it. It was Lady Aldford and her daughter, Miss Hatfield. He swore again and ran to the door.

"Eleanor?" he called, but he could hear steps on the stairs, and he guessed that Eleanor and his aunt were already in the breakfast room. He glanced at the clock. It was already nine o' clock. No wonder people were coming over to call in on them.

He raced up the stairs, wanting to alert Eleanor before the guests descended. Aunt Tessa was one thing, but strangers, especially Baroness Aldford and her daughter, were another. It was no bother to be in a more casual state with family members, but having the local nobles find one in a state of disarray was another thing.

"Eleanor?" he called, breathless as he ran to the breakfast room. Aunt Tessa was pouring tea, while Eleanor sat at the table, looking a little baffled. She looked over at him as he ran inside.

"Is there..." she started, but he interrupted.

"There are guests. Coming for tea." He drew a breath. "Nobles from a neighbouring estate." he gasped, still exhausted after running up the stairs.

"Oh!" Eleanor glanced around, clearly frightened. Aunt Tessa waved a hand.

"Do not agitate and fret, my dear," she said at once. "I'll sit with them in the drawing room. You can go and ready yourself. Then you can come and preside in the drawing room. Not so, Bastien?" She looked over at Sebastian, who blinked.

"Yes. Good idea."

Aunt Tessa smiled at him as if everything made perfect sense. Sebastian nodded again and inclined his head, indicating that Eleanor might step out into the hallway, if she wished to.

"Aunt Tessa has a good idea," he said to her gently. "You go and ready yourself, and I'll ask the butler to send them up here. I'll see you two in a minute," he added swiftly, looking around hastily. "I have some urgent business to attend to."

He took a pastry from the basket on the table, since he hadn't yet broken his fast, and hurried downstairs to tell the butler.