Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

E leanor greeted Phillip at the door with a smile. He was the only bright spot in a sea of loneliness and darkness as of late. Even Sarah was visiting less often now, saying that her mother wished her to spend her time with the young man who had begun calling on her, not with her spinster-bound best friend. That stung, but Eleanor knew it wasn't Sarah's fault, and she took solace in the fact that she still had Phillip to talk to whenever he would come by to see her father.

"This is the third time this week, Your Grace. If you keep stopping by, I shall believe you are here for me and not my father."

The smile Phillip gave her seemed a little off, but then he took off his top hat and stepped inside with a more genuine smile. "Would that bother you, Lady Eleanor?"

She crossed her arms as a maid took his coat. "I hardly think I have made a secret of my disinterest in marriage, Your Grace. While I find your company delightful, I have no desire to give up my freedom to have it permanently."

"I see." His tone was neutral but held a hint of irritation underneath the surface.

"It is not you who are the trouble, Your Grace. I do hope you will not take this as a personal offense."

"No, no. I know you meant no personal offense, Lady Eleanor. Shall we take a turn in the gardens while we wait for your father?"

Eleanor nodded, though all the talk of marriage lately left her feeling frustrated and anxious. Phillip's remark only left her feeling more out of sorts. "Only if you swear there will be no more talk of coming to call on me instead of my father, Your Grace."

"You have my word." He offered her a smile that looked more pained than genuine. "What shall we speak of instead?"

She suddenly wanted to tell him about the situation she was in, about her loneliness and sadness over it, about her fears that her father didn't want her anymore. Sarah wouldn't listen, and Phillip was the only other person Eleanor trusted at all.

"Lady Eleanor?" He guided her out to the garden and then urged her to sit on a bench. "You look upset. What is it?"

"Will you keep my confidence if I tell you something private, Your Grace?" she asked.

He took a seat beside her. "Of course, so long as it is nothing illegal or dangerous."

Eleanor laughed. "You give a mere woman too much credit, Your Grace. When do you think I had the opportunity to engage in anything illegal or dangerous?"

"You are full of surprises and secrets, Lady Eleanor. I do not find it hard to imagine you would have found a way to involve yourself in things no ordinary woman would."

"I do not know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult."

Phillip's lips curled into a smile. "A compliment, I suppose. What is it you wish to tell me?"

"My father has decided I am to wed," she replied. "I have made it clear that I do not wish to, but he does not care about what I wish. I am to wed soon, and he will not give me time to find my own way."

Phillip remained silent.

"He does not want me anymore." Eleanor's voice shook. "He will not even tell me why he suddenly insists upon this."

Still, he stayed quiet and did not interrupt.

"Speaking of this, my best friend will not even listen to me. She believes that my father must have a reason to do what he is doing, and she thinks it is wrong to feel as I do about the matter. She does not understand. If I marry, my wings will be clipped. No man wants a wife who is as learned as he is."

"I would not say ‘no man,' Lady Eleanor." He said in a low, gentle voice.

"Father will not find a man who wants me. He will find a man who is willing to marry me in exchange for my dowry."

He didn't respond to that.

"I… I apologize. You likely do not wish to listen to the distraught ramblings of a woman you barely know."

"I do not mind," Phillip assured her softly. "I am sorry for your predicament. Perhaps it will turn out better than you think. You might find grace. Perhaps the man your father will choose will be a good man, one who will treat you gently and kindly."

"I do not believe God would be so kind as to grant me a miracle," she muttered.

"Perhaps a little faith is all you need, Lady Eleanor."

Eleanor opened her mouth to reply, but she was cut off by her father's booming voice behind them.

"Richmond! Wonderful to see you again. I have had the fire lit in my office and tea brought up. Would you join me?"

The Duke, who had been so kind as to listen to her rantings, rose and smiled down at her gently. "It may turn out better than you imagine, Lady Eleanor. Have but a little faith."

She lowered her head as her tears threatened to spill over. A little faith? She had none at all. There seemed to be no true light in the darkness, no moorings by which she could anchor herself. Phillip was the closest thing to an anchor she had, but he was practically a stranger, and when she would be married, she would lose even him.

William held a cup of hot tea out to his guest. "What were you two talking about? My daughter looked upset when I walked out."

"She is." Phillip accepted the cup of tea and took a seat. "I cannot carry this on for much longer, Fife. She is hurting. She believes you wish to clip her wings, that you do not want her."

"That is not true! I could have given her to any other man who wanted my fortune if that were the case. I came to you because I have it on good authority that you are a good man, and having met you now, I believe that report." William eyed Phillip speculatively over the porcelain teacup. "You will not clip my daughter's wings."

"No." Phillip sighed. "But I want to know why you are doing this. Why now? If you were going to take this approach, you could have wed her off years ago. Why the haste in doing it now?"

"That is my secret to bear." William eased himself into his own chair with a groan and stared at the crackling fire. "This will come to an end soon, though. How quickly can you set up a wedding? I have already visited the Archbishop. He has signed the special license, and we have three months before it will be no longer of use."

"I can have everything ready next week, but if you wish to give your daughter the wedding she deserves, I will need a few more weeks."

"Then give her the wedding she deserves, Richmond. Let me know when it is done."

"Can we not tell her the truth now, Fife? Please. Seeing her like this… no one should have to suffer like that. Even her friend has sided with you, and she has turned to me, a near stranger, for a listening ear."

"That only means she will find it easier to turn to you when she discovers that it is you she is marrying. We will tell her nothing. I will bring her to the wedding ceremony when you have the date and time arranged." William sipped at his tea. "For now, tell her nothing. Nothing at all, Richmond. It is for the best."

"How can convincing your only daughter that she is unwanted be for the best?" Phillip snapped. "From where I stand, you look as much the cruel father as she believes you to be. Give me a reason to believe otherwise."

"Do you need one?" William drawled. "If I am the cruel father, you will be saving her from me by marrying her. If I am not and I have a good reason for all I am doing, you will still be doing what is best for her. I can tell you are fond of her. Whichever way you choose to see it, Richmond, you are doing what is best for my daughter."

Phillip sighed and stood up. He started pacing the room and rubbing a hand over his face. "It is because I am fond of her that I hate doing this to her! She will believe I was in league with you all along if we tell her nothing about this."

"She will not if you tell her after you are wed that you asked for her hand after she told you about her situation." William drained the rest of his tea. "Look, Richmond, I care little what you choose to tell her after the wedding. Just have things ready in a few weeks and pass along the date."

"I cannot come to see her again between now and then." Phillip ran his fingers through his hair. "I cannot watch her suffer knowing I have answers that would ease her mind and that I cannot give."

"I understand," William murmured. "Would you come visit again with the date?"

"As long as I do not have to see her before the wedding."

"I will see to it."

Phillip nodded. "I will see you then, Fife. I hope for her sake that you know what you are doing."

"I do." William stared over the rim of his empty cup at the crackling fire. As much as he knew it was hurting her, he knew what he was doing, and he knew this was for the best. Eleanor would be well cared for by Phillip once she let herself trust the man and let go of her irrational disdain for marriage. Phillip would not destroy her independence or fiery nature. He would cultivate it and temper it, making Eleanor a better woman. It would all be worth it in the end.

The Duke put his hat back on. "Good day, Fife."

"Good day, Richmond."

Eleanor was startled by a knock at the door of her painting studio. She looked up to find her father standing there with a large box in his hands. She frowned and stood up. "Father?"

"Eleanor, I know we have been going through a difficult spot in our relationship as of late, and I know I have not been able to offer many answers." William came in and set the box on her canvas table. "I hope you would accept this as a small token of apology so that we can put this all behind us."

She joined him at the table. "What is it?"

"I need you to accompany me to an event, and this is for you to wear."

Eleanor opened the box. Inside, she found a white muslin dress beautifully embroidered with gold and silver flowers and birds, with a gold ribbon sash between the full, delicate skirts and the bodice. She fingered the fine, gauzy lace laid over the skirts. "This is lovely, Father. Thank you. What is it for?"

"We are attending an event where there will be very important people. We need to look our best for it. You know how the ton can be, my dear." William smiled disarmingly.

"I adore it," she admitted.

"I hoped you would."

"When is this event?"

"In a week. I had the dress specially designed for it."

"I will wear it with pride." She picked up the box. "Thank you."

"You are welcome."

Eleanor watched her father leave with relief, glad that the enmity between them was finally coming to an end. She doubted he had entirely given up on his intent to marry her off, but at least this was better than the coldness that had settled between them for the last month. It was progress, and perhaps in time, he would soften further and give up this madness entirely. "You never said what it was for, though, Father?"

"In due time, my dear, in due time. Come. I thought we might go to the market and look for some embroidery supplies for you. Perhaps some ribbons for your hair to go with your dress? I have it on good authority that bandeau pieces are quite in style with the ladies. Perhaps you would like something of that nature to go with the dress?"

"That might go nicely with it." She fingered the heavily embroidered fabric once more, trying to guess what sort of event they would be attending that would require such a lavish gown with so many layers of fine muslin.

"Shall we go now?" William asked.

"What of lunch?"

"We will fetch something while we are out. I am certain the Cook will appreciate the time to herself."

"Very well." She pulled her fingers away from the dress. "Shall I put it away before we go?"

"I have already asked your maid to do it for you. Come, my dear, let us go, or I shall think you are making excuses to refuse my gesture of goodwill."

Eleanor bit her lip, but she nodded and followed her father out of her painting room. He offered her his arm and led her to the foyer, where she collected a coat and an umbrella for walking. Without a word, she let him guide her outside to their curricle. The tiger responsible for handling the horses while they were generally out on errands was already seated on the small seat at the back of the vehicle.

William helped his daughter step up into the curricle, and she adjusted her skirts. He joined her and took the reins, sending the vehicle rumbling down the cobblestone driveway and onto the country road towards town.

William glanced at Eleanor as they drove. "You and Richmond seem to get along well."

This could only be going in one direction. "Father, please do not spoil the afternoon with talk of marriage."

"No one has said anything about marriage but you, my dear."

"That is where this is going, though. I am no fool. You think we get along well and believe I might be able to bring the Duke up to scratch. If I cannot, you could, and you believe you might be able to pawn me off to a man I might not despise."

William smiled wryly. "You have it all figured out, I see."

"It is hardly the first time you have started delicate conversations with such transparency." Eleanor straightened and stared at the road ahead. "The Duke of Richmond is a good man. However, I still have no desire to marry, not to him or anyone else. There is no reason."

"So you have said." William sighed heavily. "Really, Eleanor, I have heard this enough times already. I know you believe there is no good reason."

"You have given me none, and I can't think of one."

"As you said, Eleanor, let us not spoil the afternoon. I really do wish to have a good time this afternoon."

Eleanor sat back in her seat with a shake of her head. "Fine. I suppose you have no good reason and simply wish to be rid of me. My stance remains the same on the Duke. As nice as he seems, I am uninterested."

"As you say," her father murmured noncommittally.

She wouldn't get anything else from him now, and she was beginning to doubt he had good reason for his sudden change of heart regarding her unwillingness to marry anyway, so she let it go. He was trying to show goodwill. It might not last for long, and as angry as she was with him for pressing her on the marriage issue, she also didn't want to lose him entirely. If he ever came to his senses, she didn't want to let this whole matter blow out of proportion to the point where they could no longer reconcile. So, she remained silent and prayed this wouldn't all end horribly wrong.