Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

I t was well worth noting that even in a quaint village where most people genuinely cared about their neighbors that a broken engagement could irreparably ruin a woman’s reputation. One of the only ways to repair said ruin was with another engagement. In the days immediately following the specter soirée and the discovery of her failed attempt at a marriage, rumors ran rampant. Even the announcement of her engagement to James Bailey did little to stop the wagging tongues of Society’s matrons. Due to this unhappy development, Eleanor stayed within the confines of Dove Hall, out of the sight of local Society, while she waited for the initial gossip to subside.

During that time, James had visited Dove Hall, informing her of the whispers, none of which seemed terrible. In fact, most of the residents of Emerald Falls supported a union between Eleanor and James. But it was tradition to discuss such matters with the neighbors—after all, the only other topics of note were the Christmastide festivities and the continual snowfall, both of which had run the gamut twice over.

When James had posted the banns, the vicar had looked to the heavens and said a prayer of thanks. He then shook James’s hand, informing him that many prayers had been said on his behalf. It made Eleanor giggle a little to know their vicar had been so invested in the possibility of their union, but in the end, that knowledge alone boosted her confidence. Therefore, she planned to rejoin Society for the final two balls of the Christmastide festivities.

There would always be the local gossips who whispered behind backs, meant to entertain their otherwise dull lives, but the scandal would soon be forgotten, and her marriage to James would be the catalyst of ending any censure for the broken engagement.

Having missed three nights of the festivities, Eleanor stood in the hall, bundling herself in her winter clothing, bonnet, and muff. She was nearly ready to leave the house when her mother entered the hall.

“Where are you off to, Eleanor?”

“Granville House. I wish to be of assistance to Mrs. Bailey for the final ball.”

Her mother held out her hand, as though she expected to be handed the muff and outer clothing. “The Baileys have servants for such things. You need not offer your services.”

The reluctance to allow her out of the house had nothing to do with the number of servants employed at Granville House. “You are still displeased with my decision.”

“All I want is your happiness, Eleanor. You have given up a title, castles, estates, and enough pin money to wear fashions from Paris, and all of that exchanged for what? A small country estate in Northumberland? I wanted more than that for you.”

“All of those things are nothing in comparison to being loved, Mama. I will have a husband who wants to be with me. Not because I can fulfill a role in front of guests or appease his mother’s desire for grandchildren. A man who knows me and loves me has offered for my hand, and I would be foolish to turn him away.”

She stopped herself before adding that she knew this from experience. Her mother knew none of the details of what had transpired in the den at Granville House two years previously. Their first proposal was something she would never share with anyone.

“Love will not keep a fire in the grate and food in the larder.”

“There is no cause for concern, Mama. James is well situated. We will want for nothing. Think of all you and Papa have. Love has served you well, has it not?”

Her mother closed her eyes as she slowly shook her head. “Foolish girl. One day you will regret choosing love over wealth and a title. You will look back upon it as you sit in envy of the Widow Hansen’s French frocks and the other women in our village who spend liberally on fabrics and notions. Hats from the London haberdasheries instead of our country replicas.”

“My happiness has never been dependent upon fashionable clothing or temporal things. I have been miserable these last two years, believing I had lost the only man whom I could ever love. Now, we have found a way back to each other. Can you not be happy for me?”

Instead of offering a response, her mother called out for one of the maids. “Mary, you will accompany Eleanor to Granville House. Keep a close watch on her.”

Eleanor rolled her eyes as she waited for the maid to don her winter clothing. When they were finally ready, she and the maid left Dove Hall. The roads and fields were piled high with snow, and Eleanor sank halfway up to her knee with each step as she fought her way between the miles that separated her father’s estate from Granville House.

Nearly to the road that would take them through the village, Eleanor stopped to wait for her maid by the kissing gate where she and James had previously stood the afternoon when they’d been ice skating. Poor Mary tried to step in each of Eleanor’s footprints but was struggling to keep pace.

“It will not be long before we are to the road. Only a few more minutes, and the snow will be more manageable.” Eleanor pointed out to the road, less than fifty feet from where they now stood. As she turned to look out at the road to ensure she was not telling a falsehood, a pile of snow sailed through the air and collided with her shoulder.

Momentarily caught off guard, she slowly brushed the snow from her pelisse as she searched for the culprit. It was possible a group of boys was running rampant between the fields and she had caught an errant snowball. But when the next one fell close to her feet, she decided she was the intended target.

There were few places for anyone to hide: a smattering of trees, or on the opposite side of the rock wall. Pushing through the kissing gate, she stepped to the other side to find James huddled down, nearly hidden by the snow around him, a mischievous smile on his face and a snowball in each hand.

“James Bailey, whatever are you doing?”

Before he could answer, Eleanor balled the loose snow in her hand and threw it in his direction. The snow landed atop his hat, splattering with a thud.

Instead of throwing the snowballs in his hands, he dropped both to the ground before making his way to her. Sweeping her up out of the snow, James held her in his arms as he kissed her.

“When I woke this morning, I realized it had been far too long since we had last kissed. I decided to remedy the oversight with haste.” To prove his point, James kissed her again. The cold of moments before evaporated as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“James,” Eleanor said, a laugh filling her words. “What if someone drives by this very moment and witnesses this display?”

“Then there will be another scandal to add to the growing list.”

Eleanor held tightly to his shoulders. “What has happened? I have heard of no scandals since ours.”

“Montefeltro and Miss Hartwell are engaged to be married. Naturally, tongues are wagging.”

“Bless them for taking the attention from us.”

James kissed her again. As they parted, they both turned to find her maid standing next to them. Mary’s humor had evaporated. James slowly lowered Eleanor to the ground and then quickly made his apologies. Eleanor couldn’t help but smile at the sincerity in his tone. He spoke to her maid with absolute respect, which made her love him even more, if that were possible.

Mary’s frown was frozen upon her face. “I’ll be thanking ye to treat my mistress with the respect an unmarried lady deserves, Mr. Bailey.”

James nodded in response. “I would not wish to cause alarm, ma’am. Please accept my apologies.”

Mary turned to Eleanor. “I’ll be reporting this to Mrs. Dove. She won’t be happy with all the kissing.”

Eleanor nodded as gravely as James had done moments before. “Indeed. You must do as you have been instructed.”

“It’s none of my affair, Miss. But it might be better if the two of you thought of obtaining a common license. You’d only have to wait seven days instead of three weeks and one day from Sunday.”

James held his arm out for Eleanor. “We will take this under advisement. Now, my driver is waiting for us with the sleigh just past the bend in the road. Might I offer you a ride?”

“We would be indebted to you, James.”

Mary cleared her throat, her eyebrows nearly reaching her hairline. She didn’t say a word, but Eleanor knew exactly what was meant by the warning.

Correcting her statement, she amended her address. “Er…Mr. Bailey.”

“Well, then, I will go after the sleigh and have my driver meet you by the road so you do not have to fight through the snow any longer.”

As soon as James was out of earshot, Eleanor turned on her maid. “I know my mother sent you as a chaperone, but you do not have to be so strict. Mr. Bailey has given me permission to use his Christian name.”

“My mistress instructed me to keep everything proper, Miss Dove. I will not fail her. Nor will I have anything to answer to if things go sideways with this engagement as they did your last.”

Eleanor’s nerves bristled at the assumption that stricter rules or having a maid nearby at all times would have prohibited the events that had unfolded at the specter soirée. She was bound to kiss James, bound to love him forever, no matter how many maids her mother set upon her as a companion. “You may inform my mother that this engagement will end with a beautiful wedding. And then, my life as Mrs. James Bailey will begin, and we will live happily ever after, like characters in a novel.”

When James arrived in the sleigh, he jumped out and assisted Eleanor and her maid into the conveyance, and then they set out for Granville House. By the time they arrived at the large manor house, she was exhausted and cold.

James didn’t wait for her to ask for tea, rather, upon entry, he sent a request to the kitchens. He arranged for Mary to be taken to the servants’ parlor, where she could restore her strength and then he led Eleanor to the library, where a fire was already set and crackling, the room heated to comfort. She sat directly next to James on a sofa, her head resting on his shoulder as she waited for her fingers and toes to thaw from the bitter cold.

He took her hands in his, but it did little good since his hands were as frozen as hers. Eleanor smiled up at him. “How long do you think this snow will last?”

“If this last week was any indication, it will be March or April before we see a thaw.” James kissed the end of her nose, causing her to crinkle it up a little.

She laughed and then decided the tingling was quite wonderful. Instead of speaking, she leaned closer to him, allowing the tips of their noses to touch as she closed her eyes. It would be rather easy for him to claim her lips, and she willed him to do so, silently chanting the words kiss me .

“Although,” James said, his breath hot upon her face. “If you were to leave town once more, the snow would follow you.”

The enchantment of seconds before instantly evaporated as she straightened her back and glared at him. “James Bailey, how dare you ruin such a perfect moment by accusing me of having caused this storm.”

James laughed and held his hands up, defending himself from the daggers she was shooting through her narrowed eyes. “It was a mere observation, love. When you left Emerald Falls, the snow stopped for the entirety of your absence. The day you returned to the village, a storm began and has not relented.”

“No mortal has such power.”

“Then how shall I explain your ability to hold my heart so raptly within your grasp? Surely, it is the same power you have wielded to command the snow.”

She knew he was partially teasing her, but the truth of how deeply he loved her stood out in his words and his softened tone. James’s gaze lingered upon her, unwavering in his devotion. In that moment, she felt an invisible thread pulling her toward him, until she was fully leaning against him, heat replacing the chill of moments before. Although she loved him quite desperately, she now understood her mother’s concern for propriety. She demurred, turning her head ever so slightly away so she could no longer see his longing. Nevertheless, Eleanor was acutely aware of him, her senses quickly attuning to his every movement.

“James?”

“Hmm?” His lips grazed the side of her head. She wanted to fall into his embrace, allow the beauty of their connection to guide their actions, but the sensible part of her couldn’t let go of the warnings she’d had from her mother. She’d been warned against such situations, told these intimate moments were only for married couples.

She wanted to importune him to find a chaperone, her maid, or his mother, but he began a trail of kisses from her left temple down to her ear, causing a burning in her stomach that completely drove all rational thoughts away, and then he suddenly pulled away, a rush of cold air hitting the place where he’d last kissed her.

James cleared his throat as he shifted on the sofa, allowing a gap between them. “I apologize, Eleanor.”

Eleanor placed her hands over her cheeks. “Three weeks and one day from this Sunday.”

“We shall do this the proper way, with a chaperone at all times.”

“Who will you find to supervise our time together today? You sent my maid off to the servants’ parlor.”

James looked ready to leave her in search of a suitable option when Lord Montefeltro entered the room. “Mayhap I could offer my services until another option presents itself.” He bowed to her, then he took up a book from a nearby table and sat in a chair facing the fire. “Do not mind me. I will sit here to provide just enough eavesdropping so you will refrain from too much kissing.”

Eleanor bit her bottom lip, uncertain how to respond to such a bold statement. Either Montefeltro was making an assumption, or he’d witnessed their cozy interlude. She dipped her head, eyes focused on her hands. There was nothing for it…she had allowed her intended to kiss her with the deepest passion, and it had shown her exactly how completely he loved her. Though she had reciprocated his affections, there were more scandalous behaviors one could commit, and so she held her head high, refusing to be shamed over her regard for James Bailey.