Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

T he day of the mystery event that William had yet to explain had finally arrived. Eleanor still had no idea what sort of event it was, but she dressed for it dutifully, smoothing her hands over the fine layer of white muslin that comprised her dress's skirt. The beadwork and embroidery looked even more beautiful now that she put the dress on.

She wished her father would tell her where they were going. It was earlier than usual for most events the ton would attend, but perhaps there was something going on at the palace. Her father might need someone to attend the event with him, and with her mother gone, Eleanor was the lady of the house, thus making that her responsibility. Either way, if her father was taking her to an event, he couldn't be too angry with her about her continued resistance to his plan to marry her off.

Tucking an errant hair back into place around the bandeau she wore, she took a moment to admire the work her lady's maid had done on her hair. Then, she picked up the reticule she'd chosen to carry with her and pulled on her gloves before going to join her father.

William stood waiting at the bottom of the staircase and looked up when he saw her coming down to see him. He smiled, though he looked near tears, which was unusual for him. Eleanor rushed to him and took his hands. "Father, What is it? You look upset."

"I am not upset, my dear." He squeezed her hands. "I am merely sorry your mother is not here to see what a beautiful young woman you have grown into. She would have been so very proud."

Eleanor squeezed his hands with a smile. "I am certain Mother is watching from heaven, Father."

"Nevertheless… I love you, as I always have, Eleanor. Will you always remember that?"

She frowned at the odd request and nodded. "Of course, Father."

He took a deep breath and pulled away. "The carriage awaits, my dear."

"Will you tell me now where we are going?"

"On the way." He guided her outside and helped her into the carriage before climbing in to sit beside her. "Do you like how the dress looks on you?"

"I do." Eleanor smoothed her palms over the beautifully worked muslin with a smile. "It is lovely."

"Good. It looks well on you. You will be the envy of all."

The carriage went into motion, rolling down the country roads towards London's busier streets. Eleanor folded her hands in her lap. "What is this mysterious event, then, Father? You promised to tell me on the way."

"Indeed." William looked away from her. "I know you are not fond of such events, but I needed you to accompany me to a wedding."

Eleanor stiffened. "Why do you need a companion for such event? Who is to be wed?"

He still wouldn't meet her gaze. "It is a duke's wedding, Eleanor. I could not arrive without the lady of the house on my arm. Please, do not be angry with me for not telling you about it sooner. I knew you would only fret and try to wheedle your way out of it. Besides, he is a friend, and we should show our support."

"Which friend?" Eleanor frowned. "And you should have told me anyway, Father."

"Oh, he is a friend of mine. You know him only through an acquaintance."

"Why have I seen no banns posted for it?" This was becoming stranger by the second.

"It was a rather hurried arrangement, I suppose." William waved her question off. "I believe he and the young lady have only known one another for a short time, but he did not wish to delay the inevitable. The bride's father arranged a special license."

Eleanor raised a brow. "A special license? They do not give those to anyone who wishes it! Who is the bride? Perhaps I know her."

Her father glanced at her and then went back to looking out the window at the rolling countryside as they approached the outskirts of London. "I do not believe you do. She is a smart, strong-willed woman, but I believe she and her duke are well-suited for each other."

Eleanor scoffed. "If she is smart and strong-willed, I doubt it to be so. She is foolish to wed. He will clip her wings and cage her like some captive songbird to sing and look pretty without doing anything more. He will drain the life from her as surely as the blood drains from a lamb at slaughter."

Her father's gaze flew to her, and his brows drew down. "Eleanor! You were raised better than this. I will hear no more of your comparisons of such a vaunted institution to such a sordid thing as butchering lambs."

Eleanor looked away this time, staring down at her lap. "Well, it is an apt description of what happens when a woman is leg-shackled. You all pretend that marrying a suitable man is the best thing that will happen to a woman short of bearing his children. I cannot see how you expect us to believe such a lie. Do you know how many brilliant women languish under the heavy thumbs of their husbands? How many perish in childbirth for their sakes? I cannot see it as anything but leading a lamb to the slaughter."

"Women are given protection, guidance and love. They are given a family and a place to belong in exchange for the risks they must bear. How can you believe it to be a bad thing?" William snapped. "If you do, then I have failed miserably. I know you are fiercely independent, Eleanor, regrettably so! I should have been harsh with you sooner, but I could not bear to discourage you. You were such a bright child. How you can be so bright and yet still fail to see the importance of marriage, I cannot see!"

Eleanor scowled at him. "So you regret encouraging me to pursue things that I found of interest? You wish you had been harsh like most men, then?"

"Yes," he hissed. "If I had, then perhaps you would have already been married to a man who could take care of you when I'm gone."

Shaking her head, she sat back with a bitter laugh. "You will be around for years. This obsession with marrying me off to whomever you choose is only out of your desire to be rid of me. I feel nothing but pity for this poor bride. Dukes are all the same, it seems. Proud, self-obsessed and entirely too demanding for their own good."

"Is that what you think of your Duke of Richmond?"

Staring at him wide-eyed, she struggled to find the words, fists clenched in her lap. "He is not my Duke of Richmond, Father."

"He could be if you only say the word. I think he might fancy you."

He is unbelievable! I have told him repeatedly my opinion about marriage, and now he is pushing this yet again!

"I will say no such word, even if a word from me could make it happen. I have told you again and again that I have no interest in marrying anyone, not even the Duke of Richmond."

"So you style him the same as every other duke?"

Eleanor fell silent.

That I cannot honestly say .

The Duke of Richmond was much different from the dukes she was accustomed to dealing with. Truth be told, if she didn't know what would happen when a woman would marry, she wouldn't mind being his. He seemed less inclined to lord over a woman, though she had only shared brief conversations with him before her father would make his way down from his office. She wouldn't risk her freedom in the hope that Phillip would turn out to be her fairytale prince. Such a thing did not exist, and it was best not to risk anything on things that could never be.

"Do you?" William pressed.

"No." Her voice rose along with her frustration. "Is that what you wish to hear? No! He seems the perfect gentleman, a man so secure in himself that he finds an intelligent woman a refreshing thing rather than a threat. But such a man does not exist. I will not wed the Duke on some silly notion that he may be the elusive one who truly is so self-confident he need not fear his wife being well-educated and wise as to overshadow him. Please, leave off this discussion. I do not want the Duke of Richmond."

That wasn't entirely true, though. Eleanor liked the Duke a great deal. He was smart, considerate and gentle. It helped that he had those beautiful hazel eyes that seemed older and wiser than his years allowed and a tall, lean build that spoke of hidden strength. She admired the way he looked as much at home looking over a book with her in her father's study as he did astride a horse to head out riding with her father.

William gave her the look he'd given her every time she'd lied as a child. He knew as well as she that she was not being entirely truthful. She did want Phillip, but she was terrified that the fairytale dream would end the moment she vowed to honor and obey him. She could not bear the idea of falling for an illusion and finding herself trapped in a nightmare. Thankfully, though, William did not press the issue as the carriage rolled further into the countryside surrounding London and the palace grounds.

"How far is the wedding venue? Where is it to take place?" Eleanor stared down at her lap. "The bride will not mind the finery of my gown, will she?"

"Only a little further. It will be on the Duke's grounds with many people from the ton in attendance. Finery is expected, my dear, and I do not believe the bride will… notice."

"Is she that enamored with her duke?"

"Nerves might be closer to the truth, I daresay," William murmured.

Eleanor raised an eyebrow. "I thought she was besotted with him given that they chose to wed so hastily."

"It does not dispel the nerves either individual feels when before a crowd at the altar, Eleanor."

"You believe the Duke will be nervous too?"

"I cannot say for certain if he will be. I think he may be, but he will likely not show it as she may." He wasn't looking at her anymore.

"If she is a lady of good breeding, she will not show it."

"I hope she will comport herself as a lady of good breeding should." William spared her a single glance. "But one never knows how a woman who is both stubborn and temperamental might react."

The carriage turned onto a dirt road that wound its way towards a large mansion and a vast lawn in front of it. Eleanor could just make out the guests milling about there. As they drew a little closer, she could also tell that there were a great many guests as her father had promised. To the side of the mansion, she spotted all of the stationed carriages, their horses already stabled for the duration of the ceremony and the following reception.

William tapped on the roof of the carriage with his walking stick. "Stop here. We will walk the rest of the way."

Eleanor frowned. "Walk? But whatever for? Look over there. Other guests have had their carriages stationed by the stables." She pointed out the window to the stables. "We can surely let our driver drop us off closer to the venue. All the guests are already here, and is that the groom waiting at the altar? Look, the guests are sitting. Where is the bride?"

The carriage came to a stop on the dirt path, and William climbed out. "Walk with me, Eleanor. I need to speak with you before we join the other guests."

Her stomach somersaulted. The tone in his voice was as strange as it had been when she had come downstairs to meet him. Whatever he had to tell her, she was suddenly afraid it would be dreadful news. She alighted from the carriage, which then continued rolling towards the stables, leaving the two of them a little less than half a mile from the back of the wedding venue. He extended his arm to her, and she took it, still feeling a little ill.

"Father, what are they all waiting for? Has the bride not arrived? We seem to have arrived late, but there is no music and no sign of the woman the Duke is to marry." She squinted at the altar, trying to make out the features of the groom, but he was too far away.

"Eleanor, I need to tell you something. You will be very angry, but you must know there is no other way."

Eleanor's heart pounded in her chest, and sweat trickled down her back despite the gentle summer breeze. She pulled her father to a stop and faced him. "Father, what is happening?"

He cupped her cheek in his hand. "Ah, Eleanor, my dear… you look so much like your mother on the day we wed."

She swallowed hard, glancing at the waiting guests. "Father…" Her voice was stuck in her throat. "W-what are you saying?"

"We should not keep them waiting, Eleanor."

Her fingers felt cold, and she stared at him as if it might change what he had just implied. "P-please… what are you saying?" Tears filled her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"They are not waiting for another woman, Eleanor. They are waiting for you. Let us not make them wait any longer."

A cry of pain and anger broke free. "You cannot have!"

"It is your wedding day. Put a smile on your face and look as though you are happy." William's expression hardened, and he pulled away. "There is no way out of this now, Eleanor."

"H-how could you!" She clenched her fists at her sides, crumpling the skirts of her elegant gown. "How could you!"

"I did what I had to do. There is no time left for dallying. Collect yourself and that stubborn nature of yours. Behave as if this is a wedding and not your funeral."

Terror clawed at her. He had not even told her who she was to marry. "What is his name?"

"You will discover it soon enough. Does it matter? You have told me many times that it would not matter because you would despise any man I would choose for you." He offered his arm again.

Eleanor's chest squeezed, and she took her father's arm, forcing back her tears. He would not allow her to escape this now. She could only compose herself and pretend that she was not furious, not terrified and not hurt all at once. Digging her nails into the fabric of his jacket, she forced herself to walk alongside him, but she did not look up. She could not. If she were to get through this behaving as a chaste, submissive bride should, she would not bear to look any of the people there in the eye. That included her groom. She would discover his identity when it was over.