Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

T he King's ball took place a month after they had selected the dress and the jewelry for the occasion. Eleanor stood in front of the mirror while Isabel laced her into her stays and pulled them tight. There was a knock at the door.

"Who is it?"

"Your husband. I came to see how it all looks. May I enter?"

Eleanor blushed and glanced at Isabel.

"If His Grace desires to help instead, I will return when you are ready to put your hair back up, Your Grace."

"Can he do that?" Eleanor whispered, afraid that Phillip might hear her through the heavy wooden door.

Isabel shrugged. "I am not paid to know such things, Your Grace. Besides, I have never worked in this position before. I have no notion what goes on between a man and his wife."

"Oh." Eleanor fiddled with the bow of laces tied around her middle and then grabbed her petticoat, putting it on and fastening it around her waist. "I have not yet put the dress on, Your Grace," she finally called out to Phillip. "If you wish to assist me, you may enter."

The door opened, and Phillip slipped inside her bedchamber. His gaze roamed over her frame before settling on her face. He graced her with an affectionate smile. "I would be delighted to help you. Are the fastenings very complicated, Isabel?"

"No, Your Grace. This one is not pinned. You only have to fasten the hooks and ties."

"Wonderful. Then I think I can manage tolerably. When we are finished with all but her hair, I will fetch you to assist her with that. I am afraid my fingers are not well suited or trained for such a task."

Isabel hid a smile and curtsied. "As you wish, Your Graces."

"Thank you, Isabel. You may go," Eleanor murmured.

Phillip picked up the lightweight green silk gown they'd selected together and trailed his fingers over the golden stars that had been embroidered on the skirts. "You look a vision in this gown, you know. I think I might not have said that when were in the shop."

"You did." Eleanor smiled and joined him by her bed to look at the gown. "Several times and with more than one dress, actually. But I am delighted that you love it when I wear it. Shall I put it on so that you may fasten it for me?"

"Please." He handed her the dress and leaned against the bedpost, watching her every move.

Eleanor slipped the gown over her head and fastened the tie at the waist before turning to let Phillip handle the hooks on the bodice's back. He did so with nimble fingers, but he lingered longer than was strictly necessary, the tip of a finger or pad of a thumb brushing along the bare skin at her neck and then stroking her back gently where the stays allowed.

Biting her lip, she waited until he was finished, then released a shaky breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding at some point. "Is it all fastened?"

"Perfectly." He turned her to face him and kissed her softly. "There is one thing missing, though. Will you fetch the jewelry we bought? I will help you put it on before I fetch Isabel to do your hair."

Eleanor obliged him with a smile. These moments with him were the ones she loved the most when his affectionate, gentle side was at the forefront and his only focus was on the moment they were sharing. It was rare for him to be free to spend long stretches of time with her, but he was very good at making the most of whatever small bits of time he could snatch.

When Phillip put the emerald necklace around her neck, he trailed his fingers from the base of her neck where the clasp rested to the top of the low dipping back of her dress. Eleanor shivered and closed her eyes with a soft sigh. "Phillip, how did I ever think that marriage would be a prison with you?"

His mouth pressed to the juncture of her neck, surprising her, and he murmured his reply against her skin, "You had yet to learn better, my love."

She hummed softly in agreement.

He continued to kiss his way down to the same spot on her back that he'd stroked with his fingers, his touch featherlight and as comforting as it was enticing. She turned to him and held his face between her hands. "I am glad you taught me better, then."

"As am I." He brushed his knuckles across her cheek with a smile. "But we will be late to the King's ball if I do not fetch Isabel to finish your hair, dearest. We can while away the minutes in peace next to the fire later tonight. Perhaps I shall read to you while you comb out your hair like you love to do before bed."

Eleanor stepped back with an answering smile and a nod. Phillip had a good reading voice, though he rarely spared time for the light reading she preferred. For her, though, he had spared it once or twice at her father's estate, and she still treasured those moments dearly.

He kissed her fingers then stepped out of her bedchamber, leaving her to herself while she waited for Isabel's return. It was hard to imagine how she had ever believed him deceitful or cruel.

Anger truly does twist reality up in knots until a person no longer knows what is up and what is down.

Thankfully, Phillip hadn't allowed her anger to continue forever and had broken down her walls until she could see she had been mistaken. Now, she could admit that she couldn't see herself going on without him as her husband, her protector, her lover. Somewhere along the way, she realized that she had fallen hopelessly in love with him. She just hoped that he loved her as fiercely as she did him.

When they walked into the King's grand ballroom and greeted the people that Phillip needed to speak to, Eleanor couldn't help looking around for her father. It was unusual for William to miss an event like this. He had always accompanied her himself to the larger balls and parties the ton threw, reminding her that as much as they might prefer the quiet of home, they had an image to maintain and connections to nurture or create.

Eleanor didn't see him anywhere. She and Phillip had arrived at a fashionably late hour. They hadn't arrived so late as to have their appearance remarked upon poorly, but they hadn't arrived early either. Timing was everything at these events. William had taught his daughter that, and yet it seemed he was not following his own rule.

Phillip pulled Eleanor towards the dance floor where he was able to hold her close and speak to her more intimately with the music covering his words. "What is it, my love? You look worried."

"Oh, it is trivial."

"You do not fret about trivial matters, Eleanor."

"I…" Should she confide in him? He had been her support through all of this, even in moments when she had behaved abominably towards him. She shouldn't be hiding things from him. "I expected my father would be here."

"I see."

"He would not snub the King so by failing to attend, but he never arrives so late." Eleanor worried at the inside of her cheek with her teeth and tried to refocus on the steps of the waltz they were dancing. "But never mind, we are not here for him or even to see him. I shall put him out of my mind."

"Or you might talk to me. Are you worried about him?" Phillip parted from her for a moment before pulling her close again.

She sighed. "I should not be after everything he had put me through."

"It is natural for a daughter to worry about her father when he has broken his habits with no explanation, but I am certain he is merely away or unable to attend due to some urgent matter. The King favors him and would not hold it against him or take it as a slight."

Eleanor nodded slowly, but she continued to look for her father even after the dance ended and Phillip had engaged them both in conversation with others from the ton . She didn't know why it didn't settle right that William wasn't there. Phillip's explanation was perfectly reasonable, but for some reason, it still didn't feel right. Something seemed wrong about the whole thing, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"Eleanor, you look lovely tonight!" the Duchess of Bedford approached Eleanor with a friendly smile. "Did you receive my thank you card for the wonderful dinner you organized for us last week?"

"I did." Eleanor turned to face her with a warm smile of her own. She'd grown to like the woman immensely, and the two of them had already begun making plans to meet each week for tea and sewing. "And you received my invitation to tea?"

"I did, but you must let me extend a counter invitation! You have already entertained me and my husband several times, but we have not hosted you yet. Let me be the one to arrange tea this time."

"Very well."

The Duchess of Bedford linked her arm through Eleanor's and led her towards the edge of the room. "Shall we take a turn? I have not seen your father here tonight. Is he well?"

Eleanor's anxiety over her father's absence came roaring back to life, and she frowned. "I have not heard from him. My husband believes that my father may be away tending to business or simply on holiday somewhere too far away to attend."

"You sound as though you think it is not the case."

"I have no reason to believe it is not," Eleanor confessed. "Only, he has never missed an event of this magnitude. He always took care to teach me never to do so either if it is within my power to avoid such a snub, especially where the King is concerned. It is so very out of character that I cannot help thinking something has gone awry."

"Surely he would send word if it had! Your husband would not keep such a thing from you."

"Of course, you are likely right, Madam." Eleanor sighed. "I am being silly, and I should enjoy the evening instead of fretting over my father's absence. Besides, he and I are no longer close due to how my wedding came about. We parted poorly."

The Duchess of Bedford nodded sadly. "Your husband mentioned that to mine. You must not judge your father too harshly, though."

"Please, we should dispense with the formalities if we are to talk openly with one another." Eleanor straightened and glanced at the dancing couples. "Call me Eleanor.."

The Duchess of Bedford laughed. "I shall call you Eleanor if you prefer. And as we are on familiar terms now, you may call me Anne."

"Thank you, Anne. As for your remark, I feel justified in judging my father harshly when he lied to get me to my own wedding and failed to inform me I was to be wed until we were quite literally walking down the aisle. He did not even plan to tell me my intended's name. I cannot see how such behavior could warrant mercy in my judgment."

Anne hooked her arm through Eleanor's and hugged her close. "Sometimes our fathers must make difficult decisions that would make them seem the villains in our eyes, Eleanor. What we perceive is not always the whole truth of the matter."

"You speak as if you have experience."

"My father arranged my wedding with my husband without my knowledge or consent as well. He was desperate to keep me from becoming collateral in the fight to keep his estate's debts from dragging him to financial ruin. Had he not found Henry willing to step in to marry me, no man would have accepted to marry me shortly thereafter. Henry's name protected me, and I found my happiness even if I had not expected to back then. My father gave me no word of explanation, no reason for his decision or what happened. I learned of it later when his money finally ran dry and he took his own life because of the shame of it."

The story was heartbreaking, but it wasn't Eleanor's.

"My father had no debts and no reason that I can see, Anne. He paid off my husband's debts in exchange for his marrying me. While I am happy with Phillip and eternally grateful that the good Lord saw fit not to curse me with a terrible husband, it does not excuse what my father did."

Anne sighed and patted Eleanor's hand. "Well, perhaps not. I only meant to remind you that there is often more to the story than we see, just as there is likely a good reason for your father's absence tonight."

Eleanor smiled sadly. She didn't want to argue with her friend, but at the same time, she couldn't bring herself to agree either. "Perhaps so. But I think I see our husbands looking for us." She pointed to the two men, who had spotted them and headed their way.

"They likely wish to dance." Anne groaned. "Henry does not have your husband's talent for dancing, I am afraid. Fortunately, he has not yet managed to do worse than bruising my toes. We have hired an instructor, and he is making some progress, but I fear it is not enough to save my feet."

Eleanor laughed. "Perhaps Phillip can teach him a few things."

"We shall have to beg him to do so at the next opportunity," Anne agreed.

Eleanor tugged her forward. "Well, there is no sense in delaying it, is there? We had best meet our fate."

Anne laughed and followed along without protest. The two women joined their husbands for the next waltz. The Duke of Bedford was, indeed, a spectacularly bad dancer, and Eleanor and Anne spent the entire dance laughing over it as the two couples danced together. Eventually, Eleanor's worries over her father and his motives for marrying her off as he had were soon lost in the enjoyment of the music and the rhythm of the dance.