Chapter 3

Chapter Three

E leanor wished for the fifth time since she’d entered the borders of Emerald Falls that she could have delayed her return by twelve days. What had she been thinking by introducing Montefeltro to local Society at Granville House? It was brazen. Harmful, if James still held a candle for her, although she was quite certain that was not a possibility. He was a man of action. If he’d had any remorse for how their courtship had ended, he would have righted the situation long before that night.

“Montefeltro and I should have stayed home.” She tried to live her life so as not to have regrets, but it seemed where James Bailey was concerned, there would always be something to cause her pain.

“Nonsense. Mrs. Bailey sent the invitation this morning by way of her footman. You and Montefeltro are expected.” Her mother simply didn’t understand, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. If Eleanor had shared the details that had led to the end of her courtship with James, her mother would not be so keen to flaunt her soon to be son-in-law.

Montefeltro, posture stiff with unwavering control, turned his head slightly, viewing her almost at a side glance. “ Amore ?”

Eleanor shook her head, not caring to explain her reticence. Most people would think it was a clear oversight on her part not to have explained her previous courtship and near engagement to another man, but when one considered the nature of her relationship with the count, it was understandable. They shared very little by way of feelings. She didn’t expect him to speak of past courtships, so why should she share something that had ended long ago?

She turned away from her mother, silently repeating her reasons for not sharing information about her past with Montefeltro. The reminder would help bolster her spirits for when she would find herself face to face with James Bailey. She would need considerable strength for that moment so as not to lose her stoic resolve.

Nothing about Emerald Falls had changed. The church steeple still towered high in the distance, with a bell that chimed the hour. Kenneth Castle loomed overhead, the turrets standing as watchtowers over the villagers, reminding everyone of the presence of the Duke of Rothes. The duke should have been their main benefactor, yet he’d chosen to allow another to assume the role. That man was James Bailey, and he had accepted the position quite admirably.

As she’d passed through the village that morning, each shop, most unchanged from her time growing up here, had added a sprinkle of cranberries and ivy for the holiday season. This was home. And although she was very content to be with her family once more, the thought of seeing James Bailey that evening left her shaken and short of breath.

Eleanor gazed out the window, taking note of the snow-laden trees and shrubs as their carriage slowly made its way up the drive. Granville House was large and majestic. It’s honey-stoned facade, softened by age, sat cozily in the newly fallen snow with a faint curl of smoke rising out of the chimneys. It was as beautiful as she remembered. And unfortunately, she felt a familiar pull to the grand home, just as she had the last time she’d been inside. The home was as ancient as the ancestry from which its owner, James Bailey, had been born.

“Can we not make our excuses? I have traveled for most of this day and all this week. A night at our home would be preferable to a ball.” Making one last plea, Eleanor pouted. It was a tactic she’d seen her cousin use many times to get her own way, and although she’d never employed such behavior in the past, this was one time she wouldn’t forego the opportunity to get her own way .

Her mother shook her head. “We are already here. Besides, it is tradition to start Christmastide at Granville House. You and Lord Montefeltro should plan to return each year for the celebration.”

Eleanor looked to her father, pleading with every silent thought she could muster for him to see her suggestion as valid enough to stop the carriage from joining the queue, but he chose to ignore her pointed gaze, and no one could hear her silent chanting. She had only one more option. Her brother, David.

Touching David’s arm, she squeezed it hard enough to inform him of her distress. “Do you not think we should announce my engagement at our home instead of the Baileys?”

Unbidden tears sprang to her eyes as she thought about the indecency of the entire affair. Wiping away the tears, she knew the only thing worse than showing up at James Bailey’s home with her intended was to arrive with red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

David did exactly as she expected: he put his arm around her and pulled her close. “I must agree with Eleanor, Mama. The announcement should be done at Dove Hall. It is the proper way to announce an engagement.”

Montefeltro frowned. “Perhaps you are correct, amore . I would not wish to have our betrothal met with sidelong glances and gossip.”

Her mother’s cheeks turned a rosy hue. “Very well, if you insist on delaying the announcement, then we will introduce the count as a family friend.”

Montefeltro held up a finger, his expression one of concern. “Mayhap Miss Dove is correct, and we should not attend this evening. I would not wish to distract from the celebration of Christ’s birth, nor do I want to deceive your neighbors by a false introduction. It would be unfair to our host.”

“You are correct, my lord. We must tell them exactly who you are.” Her mother leaned forward and took hold of Montefeltro’s hand, trapping it between her own. “No one will begrudge us this happy news. The entire village knows you have brought Eleanor home for this purpose alone. The announcement is expected, and I already sent a request to Mrs. Bailey for a few moments to make our special announcement.”

Montefeltro withdrew his hand, offering a pleasant smile. “If you insist, Mrs. Dove, then we will do as you wish.”

Eleanor placed her clasped hands in her lap. Arguing had done little good and pouting had gotten her nowhere, so she bowed her head to endure the rest of the ride in silence while her mother and Montefeltro spoke of the upcoming wedding.

Leaning against David’s shoulder, Eleanor spoke so only he could hear. “What of your prospects? Have you secured the first two sets with Miss Hartwell?”

David shook his head. “Miss Hartwell has set her cap for another gentleman.”

Eleanor smirked, “All is not lost…until they are engaged.”

“Even then, it is not final,” her father said from across the carriage. She hadn’t expected a response from her stoic father, but now that he had joined the conversation, her heart leapt with an unexpected shred of hope—familiar and very forbidden. Was it possible an engagement was not final? She didn’t dare hope for her father’s statement to be true.

“I suppose that means you have a plan for me,” David said.

Having been away from her family for so long, Eleanor had forgotten the little nuances. A twitch of the lips, a slight frown, and most famously, the quick flash of irritation as her father’s eyes went wide and then immediately returned to normal. Something was amiss between David and their father.

Her father’s eyes narrowed. “I expect you to make a match with Miss Hartwell. She is the Duke of Rothes’s cousin, and an intimate connection to His Grace will improve our standing in Society.”

David’s arm tightened around Eleanor’s shoulders before he pulled away. “Miss Hartwell has little to no interest in a match with me.”

“Mr. Bailey is as uninterested in Miss Hartwell as she is in you. We must use it to our advantage,” her father said. “A woman cannot resist a man who shows even a modicum of interest in her.”

As though the mention of James Bailey should have sent her spiraling, her mother reached out and patted her knee. “Do not concern yourself, dearest. Mr. Bailey has yet to set his cap for any other young lady.”

Eleanor would have laughed if she’d thought her mother was jesting. But for her mother to make such a statement in front of Montefeltro, well, it felt indecent. Eleanor quickly responded with one of her most rehearsed lines. “Mr. Bailey may court and marry the lady of his choosing. When that day arrives, I will wish him all the happiness he deserves. My letter of felicitations will arrive from the castle in which I reside, in Italy.”

She had formed the words with such practiced precision, one would think she had been in earnest. As it was, she hoped no one in the carriage noticed the shaking of her voice and the way her hand picked at the thread on her gloves. In truth, she didn’t want James to find happiness with anyone. Not even she deserved to make him happy. He was the most genuine and kind gentleman of her acquaintance…that was, when his temper didn’t flare up. But even in those instances, he wasn’t frightening, just unmovable. He cared deeply for his family and friends, which she’d counted herself part of not so many years past.

Before she was ready, the carriage came to a stop. The argument between her father and brother would continue another day. Any response her mother had for the placid comment she’d made about James would remain unspoken. Poor Montefeltro looked at each of her family members with curiosity and then exited the carriage without voicing his concerns. It had to be difficult, joining a family without understanding the history. It would not be long before she would be the one on the outside attempting to understand a new family. It was all very exhausting, and yet necessary if she were to make a happy life with Montefeltro.

Eleanor accepted Montefeltro’s arm, following behind her mother and father as their party entered the grand estate. The smells of Christmas: spruce, holly, and peppermint mixed with the scent of the yule log assaulted her senses, bringing back memories she’d spent years burying behind a lock and key. If not for Montefeltro’s sturdy support, Eleanor would have fainted the moment she caught sight of James Bailey in his green evening frock coat, the one that pulled specs of gold out of his magnetic chocolate eyes.

James stood with his hands clutched behind his back, his jaw tight. With an unassuming glance in her direction, he bowed and offered a rehearsed line. “I am very pleased to have you join us this evening.”

Eleanor dipped into a polite curtsey. Her knees buckled and her foot slipped as she clung to Montefeltro’s arm. When she spoke, her voice betrayed what little sense of poise she’d hoped to display. It was all for naught. The practiced speeches and reassurances were forgotten. The airiness of her voice made her sound like a debutante at her first ball. “Thank you, Mr. Bailey. I was most pleased to receive the invitation.”

James nodded to Montefeltro, then looked back to her. “I understand you are to be married. Your mother seemed quite pleased with the match when she sent the missive this afternoon. Is this your intended?”

Introducing Montefeltro to James had never been her intention. If there had been a large potted plant or a medieval suit of armor nearby, she would have inched away from the conversation to hide herself until all introductions had been completed. Unfortunately, an escape had not presented itself. “Mr. Bailey, may I introduce Count Antonio Montefeltro?”

With the cultured movements of a gentleman, James offered a friendly greeting. He and Montefeltro conversed in Italian as though they were destined to be friends from that moment forward, which would not have vexed her so greatly if it were any other man in Emerald Falls. But she didn’t want James to befriend her future husband.

“What do you think, Miss Dove?” Montefeltro’s question caught her off balance.

Eleanor’s cheeks heated as she removed her gaze from James’s eyes. He hadn’t noticed she was fixated upon him…at least, she hoped he hadn’t. “I am sorry. I was somewhere else entirely. What was the question?”

Montefeltro hadn’t missed her momentary lapse of judgment. She could see it in the careful way he regarded her, his eyes moving back and forth between her and James. “An invitation to our engagement ball should be sent to Mr. Bailey and his mother, is that not correct?”

“Oh…well, I suppose my mother has a list of neighbors she is determined to invite. We must consult her on the matter.” Eleanor turned around intending to get an answer, only to find her parents had already made their way through the hallway into the ballroom. She nervously turned back to the two men, who were awaiting her final reply to find David had stepped up. He had one hand on James’s shoulder and was shaking his other with a jovial greeting .

David’s voice boomed through the entry hall, bringing a momentary stop to all conversations nearby. “Bailey, what were you thinking when you decided to spend the morning on a roof? You must want for a quiet evening by the fire instead of this hullabaloo.”

“The Gowers’ home could not wait another night. I will rest easier knowing the snow will not fall on the little ones while they sleep.”

“I had heard it was bad. How many more of your tenant farms need repairs this winter?”

“Far too many. If you do not mind a bit of manual labor, I could use the help.”

David laughed as he lifted his gloved hands to indicate his soft hands, as though they could see beneath the white material. “I do not know how effective I will be, but I will gladly join you on the morrow. Whose home will it be this time?”

James clasped his hands behind his back once more. “The Taylor family home needs repairs. Their windows are loose. It is more of an icehouse than a home. A bit of patching should not take more than a few hours.”

“I am at your disposal. We might, if lucky, convince Lord Montefeltro to join us.”

Montefeltro dipped his head in agreement. “I would be delighted to assist.”

Eleanor didn’t miss the intentional focus James held upon her brother and her intended. His eyes never settled upon her, purposefully looking over her shoulder if he accidently strayed to her person. The light she’d once seen in his face and eyes was now dimmed. She didn’t blame him. A gentleman could not safely look upon a woman tenderly without finding himself bound in marriage, or in this instance, at the end of dueling pistols.

More importantly, it seemed he had found a way to forget his feelings for her, which meant she needed to do the same. Tired of giving her thoughts over to a man who no longer held her in his regard, Eleanor decided this would be her best Christmastide yet. She had very little time before her marriage to Montefeltro, and it was best she make herself merry this holiday season.

“Mr. Bailey,” she said, interrupting the conversation on windows and roofs. “Is Mr. Kaye or Mr. Deane to join the festivities this year? If not them, perhaps Mr. Cratchit?”

James’s expression was blank, unreadable, as he focused on a spot behind her right shoulder. “I am afraid not. My friends were unable to accept an invitation this year.”

“A pity. Please send my regards. I trust you are still in contact with them?”

“They are the best England has to offer. I would not wish to lose such friends.”

His gaze slipped a little, his expression softening as he finally looked upon her face. The harsh cold in his eyes melted into liquid, like a cup of drinking chocolate, and for a moment she was transported back to when all had been right between them. Lingering upon the past, even for a second, left her weak. If only she could erase the memories imprinted on her heart, perhaps then seeing him again wouldn’t hurt so completely.