Chapter 25

“Has anyone seen my journal?”

Eleanor glanced up from the letter she was penning. Or, at least, that she was attempting to pen. After spending the better part of the day in Jasper’s company, and with his invitation to visit his rooms tonight looming before her, her thoughts were hopelessly frazzled.

I’m not going to take your maidenhead on the hard, cold ground, Eleanor.

Well, they wouldn’t be on the hard, cold ground tonight. They would be in a bed. His bed. She shuddered at the thought.

It wasn’t that Eleanor didn’t want to make love with Jasper. She very much did. She was wildly attracted to him, and this would likely be her only chance to experience what went on between a man and a woman.

But surely it was normal to be anxious about such an event. What if, in spite of whatever precautions Jasper took, she conceived? What if the act did not live up to her imaginings? What if she did not live up to Jasper’s expectations, and he wanted nothing to do with her afterward?

What if she came to regret it?

“Eleanor? Eleanor?”

Blinking, she realized that Pippa had been saying her name, possibly for some time. “I’m sorry, dear. I was woolgathering. What is it?”

Her youngest sister wrung her hands. “Have you seen my journal?”

Eleanor glanced around her bedroom, where the four sisters had gathered before dinner. “I can’t say that I have. Did you bring it in here?”

Poor Pippa looked miserable. “Not that I recall, no.”

“Where did you last have it, Pip?” Clarissa called from her seat on Eleanor’s bed.

“In my bedroom. I wrote in it a little after lunch. I only had a few minutes, but there was something I very much wanted to record…” She trailed off, her gaze taking on a faraway look.

Eleanor strove to keep her features neutral and not make it obvious that she knew all about the happy event to which Pippa referred—her kiss with Felix. “So, you had it after lunch. That wasn’t all that long ago. Did you bring it anywhere else?”

“No,” Pippa said. “That’s the strange part! I spent all afternoon with you four, playing lawn bowls. I certainly didn’t bring it there, and I haven’t had time to go anywhere else.”

“It must be in your room, then,” Eleanor said. “Where do you usually set it?”

“On the writing desk in the corner. Except it’s not there.”

“Perhaps one of the maids moved it while cleaning and forgot to return it to its usual place,” Clarissa offered.

Pippa tilted her head, considering. “I don’t believe that’s likely. The maids visited my room this morning during the apple picking. I don’t think they’ve been in there since.”

Kate, who had been quietly drawing the view outside the window, closed her sketchpad. “Come on, Pip. I’ll help you search your room.”

“Thank you, Kate. Although I’ve searched and searched.”

“Maybe a fresh set of eyes will help,” Kate said as the two of them headed out the door.

Eleanor set aside her letter. Her response was so disjointed that she would probably have to rewrite the whole thing. “I suppose we should dress for dinner,” she said to Clarissa.

“There’s something I was hoping to discuss with you,” Clarissa said. “I was speaking to Lady Francesca today. She has a great-aunt who is in need of a companion. The great-aunt is reportedly sharp-tongued and acerbic and has scared off a couple of companions who were of a weaker constitution. Lady Francesca thinks I would be perfect and wants to recommend me.”

Eleanor froze. This was precisely what they had agreed, that all four of the sisters needed to do their utmost to find a means to support themselves. And, although it seemed likely that Pippa would receive a proposal from Felix, their future was by no means secure.

But if Clarissa accepted this position, it would mean that the four sisters who had been together for their entire lives would be separated. Eleanor had known it might come to this, but now that it was happening, she found she was unprepared.

She tried to hold her voice steady, to not betray her qualms. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to accept,” Clarissa said with characteristic decisiveness. “Lady Francesca has told me several stories about her great-aunt Winifred, and I think we would rub along splendidly. It’s a good opportunity and precisely the sort of position we agreed to look for.”

“It is,” Eleanor agreed tightly. “We did say that we would all look. Of course, we did. But it would mean you moving to…”

“To Manchester,” Clarissa supplied.

“Manchester,” Eleanor breathed. “So far!”

Clarissa took the chair Kate had positioned next to the window and brought it over to sit next to Eleanor at the writing desk. “Not so very far from our old home in Boroughbridge.”

“That’s true. I suppose I’m already assuming the most likely outcome is that Pippa and Felix will wed, and we’ll all wind up in London.”

“There’s the rub, all right. I wouldn’t feel comfortable relying on one of my sister’s husbands for my daily bread. I mean, I would if I had no other choice. But if it is possible for me to earn my own way, I would very much prefer it.”

Eleanor’s eyes stung. “Honestly, I feel the exact same way. It’s just that the four of us have always been together. I’ve known theoretically that one day we would go our separate ways. But now that we’re on the cusp of it, it’s more painful than I had imagined.”

Clarissa reached forward and pressed Eleanor’s hand. “But we will write. And what will make it bearable will be the fact that we will all be embarking on our own adventures.”

“Adventures?” Eleanor snorted. “I’m not sure that serving as the companion to a grouchy curmudgeon of a woman will be an adventure. And I won’t even be doing that much. I’ll just be the spinster sister, living by the grace of my brother-in-law.”

Clarissa’s eyes were keen. “I’m convinced that Pippa won’t be the only one to marry at the end of this house party.”

Eleanor frowned. “Do you mean to tell me that Kate has found a suitor?” She rubbed her brow. “I must be losing my touch, that I didn’t even notice—”

“Eleanor!” Clarissa laughed, incredulous. “Do you truly not understand that I was referring to you?”

“M-me?” Eleanor was stunned into incoherence. “What do you… You can’t possibly… Me?”

“Of course, you, you ninny!”

“Clarissa!” Eleanor protested. “I am firmly—firmly—on the shelf. I will never marry. I’ve accepted that. Besides which, I cannot imagine whom you could possibly be contemplating as my potential groom.”

“Oh, I don’t know—perhaps the man who has spent the entire day dancing attendance on you?”

Eleanor’s cheeks felt as if they were aflame. “You cannot possibly be referring to… to…” She couldn’t even bring herself to say it.

Clarissa had no such compunctions. “The Duke of Norwood, of course!”

“It will never happen. Never. Not in a thousand years. Not in—”

Clarissa interrupted her ruthlessly. “I can scarcely countenance it, given how close you two were all morning. But is it possible that you have not seen how he looks at you?”

“The very notion is patently ridiculous. Jasper is a duke. That means that his wife will be a… a…” Her lips refused to form the word.

“A duchess?” Clarissa supplied. “What of it?”

“I am not duchess material!” Eleanor cried. “Just look at me, Claire!”

“I am looking at you. I see the finest woman I know. I think Jasper, as you’ve apparently taken to calling him, sees the same thing.”

Eleanor bit her lip. She should not have slipped and referred to him by his first name.

Clarissa rose to her feet. “In any case, I must be off to don a dirt-colored dinner dress. I’ll see you downstairs Your Grace.”

“Clarissa!” Eleanor snapped. “You mustn’t joke about such things. What if someone were to hear?”

“Oh, all right. I will behave myself. It will go against form, but for you, I will endure it.”

“I’ll see you at dinner, if I can distinguish you from the wood paneling, that is.”

Clarissa smiled as she headed out the door.

Eleanor found that her heart was flying. How alarming, that her sister had perceived a connection between her and Jasper, to the point that she even thought they might marry!

If Clarissa had any idea what Eleanor was planning to do tonight, she would crow in triumph.

Swallowing, Eleanor went to dress for dinner herself, preparing to smile blandly at the man who would be taking her virginity in a few short hours.