Chapter 2

Chapter 2

" W ake up, lazy bones!" Edna's voice boomed through the silence of Eleanor's slumber.

Eleanor let out a groan as the vivid pictures of last night's ball vanished from her mind's eye, and became joltingly aware of her older sister's movements. Curtains were being flung open as Edna continued to insist that she wake, and accepting that she would not be allowed back to sleep, Eleanor begrudgingly opened her eyes. As she did so, Edna crawled onto her bed and gave her rump a sharp slap, making Eleanor yelp and suddenly sit up on her knees.

"Edna! What are you doing here?" Eleanor snapped, pushing her sister's pestering hands away from her tangled strands of hair. "Aren't you and your new husband supposed to be making the next line of Papa's legacy?"

"You are so wicked when you are grumpy!" Edna exclaimed, teasing her as only a big sister could. Her hands flew out again quickly, laying pinches on Eleanor's sides, and Eleanor hissed out a curse as she all but flung herself out of bed to get away from her sister's antics. At this, Edna only laughed.

"And you are such a child," Eleanor shot back, rolling her eyes as she walked to the washstand. She was not sure why her older sister was there but she did not like it.

"Seriously, what are you doing here?" She insisted, washing her face.

"Mama and Papa begged me to come," Edna replied, inspecting her nails casually as she dropped her act of affectionate big sister. "They wrote that they have arranged big plans for you today and that my attendance was absolutely crucial."

"What are you talking about?" Eleanor asked, taking a step back from Edna. "Mama and Papa have told me nothing."

Edna laughed as she lifted herself off of the bed and smoothed her expensive teal silk gown down her person.

"Why would they?" Edna asked, "You would only have messed it up if you had known. I will call for your lady's maid so get down quickly."

Something was not right. Edna was too gleeful about what she knew. But where would she run to? Where could she hide? Knowing she had no choice but to deal with what was waiting for her downstairs, Eleanor flew into action. Frightened or not, she decided she was not going to let her parents see her as such.

"Ah, here is our little, sleeping pup!" Edna exclaimed in a mocking tone as Eleanor walked into the drawing room. She clapped her hands in excitement above her plate of breakfast, which made their parents laugh.

"Good morning, little dove," Victor added, looking up at Eleanor gleefully as his big fingers continued to pull the flesh of his morning kippers off of their bones. "We have wonderful news for you today."

"Sit, Eleanor, sit," Laura insisted, fluttering her hand toward the seat between her and her husband. "Your father has done something positively amazing for you!"

The sinking feeling Eleanor had felt in her stomach earlier only grew worse as she took her seat, but she kept her chin up high and smiled as prettily at her father as she could.

"Do not keep me in suspense," she pleaded, trying to cover her dread with an excited tone, "Please, Papa, I am aching to know!"

"You are to be married!" Victor boomed, shooting to his feet in excitement as he triumphantly thumped his fist against the table. As he did so, Laura let out a sound of glee as she clapped her hands, and Edna started to hum as she danced two pieces of toast across her plate.

Whatever warmth Eleanor had been able to retain drained out of her right then.

"What?" She managed to breathe.

"Oh, I am so thrilled for you, darling," her mother gushed, reaching over to grasp her hand. "Your father has caught you the best husband! You are set for life! Your troubles, our troubles, are officially over!"

"No." The word came out of Eleanor's lips before she could stop it, ceasing the celebrations immediately. "I have not chosen anyone," Eleanor continued, refusing to back down. "My husband will be my choice, just as Edna was allowed to choose hers. That is what you always–"

"You will not be ungrateful for this," her father bellowed suddenly; his feigned kindness was now gone. "Edna was wise with her time and her choices. It has been two years now and you have failed to do the same."

"Do not dare be petulant, child," Laura hissed suddenly, coming to her husband's defense. "You have no idea the lengths your father has gone to accomplish this arrangement."

"I will not marry a man I do not know. I will marry for love!" Eleanor shouted suddenly, coming to her feet with a sudden gust of rage. "It is you that seek the social graces of the Ton, not me," she continued, "I will not tie myself to a man simply for social or financial gain, I refuse!"

"You have no choice!" Victor boomed, rising to his feet so fast that his rotund belly pushed over the nearby coffee pot. Eleanor's eyes moved to the black stain spreading across the white lace tablecloth and felt as if it was her own soul being blotted out by darkness.

The strength in her legs waned, her knees began to tremble, and as her father's wrath filled the room, Eleanor felt her body lower back down into her chair. Tears pricked at her honey eyes as Eleanor looked down at her plate; her head hanging above it as if she were waiting for the guillotine.

A few more tense, silent moments passed before Victor's ruddy complexion paled and he slowly lowered himself back down into his cushioned chair. With two meaty fingers, he beckoned a servant forth, and the family sat in further silence as the dirty tablecloth was quickly but carefully removed and taken away.

"This was an ugly morning," Victor announced, his deep tone calmer, but still ringing with annoyance. "Let us not all it continue into the evening. Eleanor, look at me."

Eleanor fought the urge to spit in her papa's direction and forced her head to turn toward him. What gross, awful creature had her father chained her to for his social gain?

"A recent turn of events has made it possible to accept an arrangement with the Duke of Larsen," he stated, his tone pragmatic and unemotional.

This brought up Eleanor short, and she straightened her posture a bit. The Duke of Larsen? Rumors about the heartless man flashed in her mind. How could be possible that such a man would want to marry her?

"I do understand that you had hoped to marry for something…" Her father continued, fluttering his fingers in the air- "That was more of a fairytale, but life is not such. Not for us. The man is extremely wealthy, well-respected, and powerful. He will make a formidable husband for you."

"Not to mention devilishly handsome," Edna jabbed in, resuming her earlier antics, "He has been the man to catch the last ten Seasons! And you have him, little sister."

Eleanor caught her sister's smug smile droop a little as she picked up her teacup and added, "Be grateful. Some of us were not that lucky."

"I suppose I am just confused," Eleanor admitted, still trying to grasp the dizzying array of events. "I do not know the duke," she continued gently, "the duke does not know me. Why would he want to marry me if he does not know me?"

"You must not worry yourself about such things, dear," Laura insisted, touching her fingertips to her perfectly styled hair. "Arranged marriages are a successful, longstanding tradition among our people, and you should simply thank your father for accomplishing such a match."

"Indeed," her father agreed, his voice finally settling down into its usual timber. He stood from the table again, this time more elegantly, and gave a single nod toward his family.

"Now," he continued, his gaze focusing in on Eleanor, "I have an appointment with your betrothed at White's in an hour, then he shall be joining us for dinner. I expect that by his arrival, your temperament will be much improved."

Eleanor felt herself nod numbly.

"Good," he stated, calmer now. "Now if you will excuse me. I must go change my coat."

Just as Eleanor's father reached the doorway to the drawing room, Bernard, the house butler, appeared, almost running into his Master.

"A thousand apologies, Sir," the balding servant stammered quickly, working as best as he could to get his wiry thin body to help stabilize Victor's much larger one.

"Blast, you fool!" Victor boomed, staggering back into the wall. "What in heaven's name are you doing? You know I have an important meeting to get to and you are knocking me off my feet!"

"Mr. Langley," Xander greeted sharply, stepping out of the shadows of the hallway. The portly man responsible for his ruin stopped shouting at the butler immediately, and his big eyes grew bigger as he realized his plan had been pushed slightly awry.

"I am so sorry , Sir, " Bernard apologized again, his voice pleading, "But that is why I have come. It appears that your appointment has come to you."

"Your Grace," Victor stated with agitation, his hands quickly working to adjust his mussed clothes and hair. "What are you doing here? I said we were to meet at White's to discuss your wedding details, and then you were to come here for dinner."

After a little digging, Xander discovered that Victor Langley was nothing but an avid social climber whose life goal was to somehow be born again into nobility, and Xander was simply a pawn in making that happen. So, when Xander found out just how many times the man had been denied membership at White's- their intended meeting place, he could not help but pull access away just a little bit longer.

"I know," Xander stated, smirking as he entered the room. As he did so, he heard the quiet gasps from the two ladies at the table, and he glanced toward them. His mind quickly scanned through the information he had been given, and identified them as Laura Langley and Lady Edna Wilten; the wife and eldest daughter of his newest nemesis.

Unlike his future bride, whose entire person sparkled like amber among ash, they had no startling features. Their straw blonde hair, dark brown eyes, and small upturned noses were like the countless others of the Ton. Ordinary wrapped in tulle. Xander drew his eyes back to Victor and strolled further into the room; his gait casual and confident.

"That was the original arrangement, yes," Xander replied matter-of-factly, walking past Victor and toward the bar cart beyond him, "But my days, to both of our dismay- are busier than most would like. I am afraid I simply cannot afford to give our business an entire day."

A wicked glee filled Xander as Victor began to stammer and object, but instead of paying the bastard any mind, he went about deliberating on his drink of choice before pouring himself an ample glass full- not for his temperament, but for his pain.

Though he was walking with confidence, his body was screaming at him for the pain he had put it through the last two nights. Needing an outlet, he had spent his time in the ring, boxing. The release of aggression had been glorious and the wins many, but he was now covered in bruises and ached beyond description. He drank the glass in one swallow, giving the strong brew a chance to delightfully numb his aching wounds, and then caught Victor off from whatever it was he had been rambling about.

"You see, the thing is, Langley," Xander pushed, "You have no choice in this, as I do not. So, we have this moment, and the two-" he paused, checking his pocket watch, "one hour and fifty-two minutes, to conclude this business. Shall we proceed, or scrap the contract altogether?"

Pleasure filled Xander as he saw his adversary finally wilt beneath his dominance. Did this man really think he would make it easy on him? Unable to help himself, his eyes flicked back toward his intended bride. Her full, rosy lips held a smirk of satisfaction; as if she was enjoying this scene immensely.

Interesting.

"Very well, Your Grace," Victor stated, pulling Xander from his brief distraction.

The defeated tone in Victor's voice suddenly sealed the second crack in his armor, and Xander reigned in his curiosity. After giving him a nod, Victor led Xander over to the table, where the three ladies had risen from their chairs. He introduced his wife first; whom he had also done some research on.

There was nothing special or particularly ruthless about her- at least, compared to what most mothers would do to arrange a high-profile marriage for their daughters- but it was reported that she was vainer than most, and spent quite a lot of Victor's new, mediocre-size fortune on crates of beauty creams, cosmetics, dresses, shoes, jewelry, and wigs from Paris.

"And this is my youngest daughter and your betrothed, Your Grace," Victor stated, finally arriving at the woman he would be forced to call wife. "Miss Eleanor Langley. Eleanor, come meet your soon-to-be-husband."

Unlike her mother and older sister, Eleanor did not smile or bat her eyelashes at Xander as she offered her hand to him. Instead, she raised her vivid honey eyes directly to his, her gaze once more shooting to the very core of him.

"It is a pleasure to formally meet you, Your Grace," she responded. The sheer coldness in her tone shocked him. It was the polar opposite of the warmth she radiated, and for the first time since he had been blackmailed, Xander wondered how she felt about the arrangement.

Shaking off his moment of surprise- a rarity for him, Xander accepted Eleanor's hand. The moment he did, a strong pulse of electricity jolted through him, spreading from his fingertips and going directly toward his inner armor.

Xander had been with women- many in fact, and quite enjoyed their touch and the way they allowed him to touch them. But never at any time had his hand come in contact with a woman- her mere hand, no less- and felt such a strong current. Unable to take the sensation or the confusion, Xander pulled his hand away swiftly and took a step backward. One of Eleanor's delicate brows perked up at him as he did so, but he refused to meet her eyes again.

"Right, then," he stated, walking toward the seat furthest away from all of them, "let's get this meeting started. We have a wedding to plan."