Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

J ames scooted a little farther away from Eleanor, refusing to allow her innocence to be imperiled further. “Any untoward behavior you witnessed was my doing, Montefeltro. You well know Eleanor is a lady of virtue and grace.”

Montefeltro nodded in Eleanor’s direction. “I am well aware of Miss Dove’s finer qualities.” With a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips, Montefeltro lightened the terse statement of moments before. “You, Bailey, have proven yourself a scoundrel over this last week. I would not be a gentleman if I didn’t concern myself with Miss Dove’s reputation.”

James nodded, thankful for the clarification. He certainly wouldn’t want anyone thinking less of Eleanor. “Then we invite you to stay and play chaperone.” James pointed to a different chair, one a little closer to the shelving and facing away from the center of the room where they now sat. “But not so close, Montefeltro. I would not wish you to overhear the sweet nothings I have to whisper to my love.”

Montefeltro chuckled as he stayed in his current spot. “I am most comfortable here.”

James turned back to Eleanor, taking her hands in his once more. “I apologize if my kiss was a bit forward, darling. I lost myself for a moment. ”

“Do not apologize. Never ask my forgiveness when you show me love. I wish to experience moments like that for the rest of our lives.”

James released her hand and cupped her face in his palm. One more kiss wouldn’t hurt. Not if it was strictly chaste. He leaned forward and nearly caught her lips with his, but the loud clearing of a throat behind him pulled him out of the moment.

Turning away from Eleanor, he found Mr. Crane standing by the door. “Sir, I do not wish to interrupt, but I must get these documents to the bank before end of day.”

There were many hours left in the day and Crane need not have interrupted that moment, but James was not one to make his staff wait upon him. He nodded to Crane. “Meet me in the den.”

“Yes, sir.”

James leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on Eleanor’s lips. “A favor, until I return to you.”

Eleanor ran her hand along his jawline. “Do not be away long, James. I will miss you.”

He kissed her one more time, unable to stop himself, for he also needed her warmth to carry with him.

James nearly ran to the den, wishing to complete this business with Mr. Crane and return to Eleanor before she would need to leave. They had a ball to attend at Kenneth Castle that evening. She would require time to dress, which meant he would have to see her back to Dove Hall before long.

Mr. Crane jumped with the same nervousness he’d displayed a few days previously as James entered the den. “Sir, I apologize for interrupting your afternoon. It is only that these documents must be signed due to the extravagant amount Mrs. Bailey has spent this last month on preparations for the Twelfth Night ball.”

James smiled, the last kiss he’d shared with Eleanor still lingering upon his lips. “I have no doubt she has spent the majority of my inheritance.” With a bit of a laugh, he met Crane’s worried features. “Is there anything left in my coffers?”

Crane’s face contorted a little, and then he allowed a nervous laugh to escape. “You have an interesting sense of humor, sir.”

James had been known to have a dry humor, though not notable enough to make people fall over themselves with gales of laughter. But he did expect a little more than a nervous twitch with such a lark. He had inherited more than enough to keep him solvent for at least three lifetimes. With proper investments, his posterity would stay in the same situation as he was now. “Well, let me see these papers.”

James held his hand out. He looked over the first—it was exactly what he had expected. There was a list of the shops where his mother had purchased the items she would use to finish decorating Granville House for the final ball of the Epiphany festivities. It would be the grandest ball of the season and double as his and Eleanor’s engagement party.

He signed that paper, and then set the quill on the blotter so he could review the next. Before his eyes fell upon the sheet, a young boy ran into the den, followed by a harassed looking Mr. Bishop.

“Mr. Bailey, you are needed at our home. There isn’t a moment to lose.” Tommy Gower’s words came out mingled with gasps, as he was attempting to catch his breath. The boy looked near to passing out, as though he had run the distance.

Realizing there wasn’t time to thoroughly check through this next bill, expecting it was an approval for a trip to the modiste and haberdashery for his mother had likely purchased a new evening frock and all sorts of notions to attend her hair for the party, he quickly signed his name without looking at it further. He passed it to Mr. Crane before he walked around the desk and knelt before the boy. “Tommy, take a deep breath and tell me what has happened?”

Thankfully, Mr. Bishop was the sympathetic sort and had poured a small glass of water for the boy. They allowed him to drink and gather himself before pressing him further. When Tommy was able to speak, he reached forward and took hold of James’s arms. “Mr. Bailey, my papa sent me. My sister has fallen ill again. We need medication, but the apothecary won’t send anything because my papa’s purse is pinched. He said he needs it upfront this time.”

It was the same old story, one he’d been fighting for years with the local chemist. He’d requested more than once for the bills to be sent to Granville House when his tenants couldn’t afford necessary or even lifesaving medications.

“Do not worry, Tommy.” James pulled a coin from his purse and pressed it into the boy’s hand. “Take this to the apothecary. Mr. Bishop will accompany you, and he will ensure you get that medication to your sister.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bailey.” Tommy looked down at the coin, his eyes wide. “A whole quid?”

“Mr. Bishop will ensure you not only have the medicine for your sister, but he will help you pick out sweets for you and the other children. Then you can give the remainder to your father in case more medication is needed.”

“Thank you, sir.” Tommy didn’t waste any time. He ran over to Mr. Bishop, taking his hand, and then they ran out of the room at the young boy’s pace heading to the apothecary.

James stood, expecting Crane to be waiting so they could finish their conversation, but it seemed the secretary had taken both papers and had left for the bank. Shrugging off the growing concern over Crane’s behavior of late, James went back to the library to find Eleanor. He would have to escort her back to Dove Hall and then take a detour out to the tenant farms before the party that evening. He would not be able to enjoy even one dance if he didn’t visit the Gower residence to ensure the medicine had been delivered.

His detour out to the tenant farms had taken longer than expected. When he arrived, he’d taken it upon himself to cheer the healthy children while the physician attended to the sick child. When all was pronounced well, James made certain Gower knew he was willing and able to help in any way.

By the time he arrived home, his mother had already left for the castle, not wanting to be late. James arrived far later than was fashionable. The greeting line had already been disbanded, which was likely best, given he had no desire to exchange fake pleasantries with Rothes. Their last discussion had not gone well, and there was no need for a repeat in front of local Society .

James had only one purpose that night. He wanted to dance every remaining set that evening with his lovely Eleanor. There was no better way for a man to declare to all of Society that he intended to marry a woman than to claim every dance and monopolize her time at the ball.

He scanned the room, looking from one group to the next, expecting to find the Dove family. Eleanor had been aware of his plans to visit the farms, but he’d hoped she would be standing in anticipation of his arrival. His senses caught the colors of the season—green, red, gold, and silver, each color vibrant upon the waistcoats of the men and the women’s evening frocks. Since this was the most prestigious evening of their Christmastide festivities, a night hosted by the Duke of Rothes, each guest was dressed in the latest fashions adorning the ballrooms in London.

The search stopped, captivated by an angelic vision of beauty making his heart skip a beat. Eleanor stood with a group of ladies, animatedly talking and laughing. The frock she’d chosen that evening was a rich shade of sapphire, accentuating her slender figure and delicate features, her cheeks bright with a cheery hue.

Her hair was arranged in an elegant chignon, with soft tendrils framing her face that curled against her cheek. James wanted to twirl his fingers around each one and pull her in for a long overdue kiss. He had missed her, since leaving her at Dove Hall that afternoon. But he hadn’t realized how much until that moment, when he was allowed to gaze upon her without her notice.

She laughed, a soft melody he could hear above the noise of the crush, one he wanted to hear for the rest of his life. James stood rooted to that spot, his future unfolding before him as he envisioned a lifetime of balls and parties to which he could escort Eleanor on his arm, her effortless grace enhanced by the kindness of her personality and a wit that was inviting and endearing.

Slowly, he put one foot in front of the other as he made his way across the ballroom. It took less time than he’d expected to navigate the crowd. His gaze was solely upon her, quieting any interruptions or greetings he might have received from the other guests.

He was nearly to Eleanor when she caught a glimpse of him. Her instant pleasure at his notice sent a wave of fluttering through his stomach. His pulse quickened, and for a moment he hoped their connection would never dissipate.

“Eleanor,” he said softly, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips. “You look exquisite.”

“James, I had hoped you would attend the party. Please tell me all is well at the Gower residence.”

James nodded. He didn’t want to talk about anything other than the way she sparkled among the candle flames around the room. He meant to ask her to dance, but he was momentarily tongue-tied by the knowledge that she had agreed to be his wife. In less than a month’s time, they would never have to be parted, not unless they wished it.

Neither of them spoke, lost in each other’s gazes as the other guests went on with conversations, laughter and chatter filling the air around them. When he finally found his voice, he pulled her closer, but not so close as to harm her reputation.

“Shall we dance?”

“I wish for every dance with you, James.”

James knew he likely looked like a fool in love, but he was her fool, and there was no reason to hide his regard any longer. “Then you shall have every dance with me for as long as I am able.”

He led her to the dance floor. They stood in the queue with the other dancers for each set called out that night. When they queued up for the fourth set together, there were a few curious glances in their direction, but for James, it felt like he and Eleanor were the only two participants in the room, with an orchestra playing for their pleasure alone.