“Not at all. I’d love to meet him,” Eleanor said, a deep smile on her face, before a touch of red rose to her cheeks that made him frown. “After all, he will be my brother soon, too.” Biting her lower lip, she beamed at him before turning toward her horse. “I shall ride out again tomorrow. Maybe−”
Unable to let her leave, Henry strode over and reached around her, placing her hands on hers before she could mount her horse and vanish from his life. Who knew when he would see her again? Who knew what could go wrong?
Surprised, she turned to face him, the pulse in her slim neck hammering as fast as his own. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
Sliding his hands down her arms and back around her waist, pulling her closer, Henry inhaled deeply, his eyes fixed on her full lips. “May I kiss you?” he forced himself to ask despite the waning control he had on his desire. However, he did not wish to frighten her. After all, the only kiss they had ever shared had been a soft peck on the lips amidst a sea of onlookers.
Her body trembled in his arms as she looked at him with wide eyes. For a moment, she seemed to hesitate and his hopes sank, but then she nodded her head shyly and leaned closer.
Slipping a hand to the back of her neck to hold her against him, Henry captured her lips with his own, unable to wait a moment longer. Her mouth felt soft and yielding under his, and shots of desire coursed through his body that urged him on. Her arms came around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair, as she parted her lips.
Feeling his desire for her rise beyond his control, Henry forced himself to take a step back. Still, his arms remained wrapped around her, unwilling to release her just yet. Meeting her eyes, intense and, yet, shy as they looked into his, he inhaled deeply. “You’re mine,” he whispered hoarsely. “Mine alone. I shall never let you go.”
Chapter Five − Doubts
With relief Eleanor received letter after letter of acceptance from her friends regarding her impromptu house party, and thus her days were spent readying Stanhope Grove for the event that would hopefully lead to an engagement celebration some time later. If only her mother could see what she saw, Eleanor thought with a sigh.
Whenever she and Henry’s paths crossed these days, he acted the perfect gentleman, kind and respectful and always considerate of her feelings. Although she had to admit that−to her utter delight−his gaze often strayed to her lips, a deep desire to draw her into his arms only too visible in his eyes, Eleanor marvelled at the power of his restraint. Was it not the true definition of a gentleman to have these emotions course through him but not allow them to cloud his judgement? His notion of right and wrong? His decency?
Admittedly, Eleanor could have done with a little less restraint on his part; however, as they were rarely alone, mostly in the company of her brother and sister-in-law, she understood his need for discretion. After all, once they were married−if that day should ever come−there would be more than enough time for…intimacies.
“Are you ready to leave?” Diana asked from behind her as Eleanor fastened her new bonnet on her head.
“I am,” she breathed, casting a last glance in the mirror, her heart still thudding in her chest as it constantly did these days when her thoughts strayed to Henry.
A knowing smile touched Diana’s face as she stepped closer, leaning in conspiratorially. “Being in love truly becomes you, dear sister.”
Unable to suppress a pleased grin, Eleanor averted her gaze, then closed her eyes for a short moment, savouring the precious feeling in her chest, hoping that it would last a lifetime.
As they rode south toward Sanford Manor, Eleanor could barely contain the expectant joy that danced through her body. The closer they drew to the small manor house situated in a cluster of trees, the more she feared she would not be able to keep herself in the saddle.
The moment Henry stepped out of the door, his eyes fixed on her as they approached, she felt herself sway slightly. Gripping the mane of her mare, she felt the muscles in her thighs tense, working to keep her from falling off as her head spun with the usual light-headedness that always seemed to engulf her whenever he drew near.
In answer to her slight sway, his shoulders seemed to tense and he stepped forward, completely oblivious to the other two riders.
Drawing up the reins as her mare stepped through the small gate and toward the house, Eleanor breathed a sigh of relief.
Instantly, Henry appeared beside her. “Are you all right?” he asked, concern clouding his eyes as he took her mare’s reins. Without lifting his eyes off her, he led her horse toward the side of the house where her brother and Diana were just dismounting, stable hands seeing to their mounts.
“I’m fine,” Eleanor breathed, slightly annoyed with her loss of control over her own emotions. Avoiding his enquiring gaze, Eleanor felt her cheeks flush with heat as embarrassment settled in her chest. Was she the only one who had her emotions so clearly written all over her face?
Beside her, Henry chuckled, and her head jerked toward him, her gaze meeting his. “I feel the same way,” he whispered, reaching out to assist her down.
“You do?” Eleanor replied before her eyes travelled to just above his collar where his pulse beat frantically, matching her own. A soft smile came to her lips, and she leaned forward, allowing herself to slide into Henry’s open arms.
Holding her gaze, Henry pulled her tight against him as her feet touched the ground. “Sometimes I feel as though my heart will jump out of my chest at the mere sight of you,” he whispered, his dark eyes aglow as they looked into hers as though they were the only two people in the world.
As though on cue, her brother cleared his throat rather loudly.
A jolt went through them, and Henry immediately stepped back, his hands slowly−and to her delight, rather reluctantly−sliding off her waist. Swallowing, he turned to her brother. “Welcome to Sanford Manor,” he greeted Lord Stanhope and his wife. “Once again, I wish to express my gratitude for allowing us to stay here.”
Her brother nodded, his shoulders slightly tense as his gaze travelled back and forth between his sister and the man she wished to marry. “My pleasure,” he mumbled before his wife rather openly elbowed him in the side. “I…I hope you’ve found it to your convenience.”
“Indeed, we have,” Henry replied as he stepped forward, gesturing to the entrance while holding out his hand to Eleanor. “Shall we?”
As he escorted her inside, her brother and Diana following on their heels, Eleanor felt a new excitement grow in her chest. Although she had occasionally seen his brothers at social events, she had never exchanged a word with any of them. From the way Henry had spoken of Nick, Eleanor knew that he was deeply concerned about his brother, and she hoped with all her heart that their house party would do him good. After all, if it were her own brother, she would wish for nothing less.
Since it was not yet time for dinner to be served, Henry showed them to the drawing room, ringing for tea and asking the butler to inform his brother that their guests had arrived. “It is truly beautiful out here,” Henry observed, his voice a bit strained, and Eleanor could see that he almost desperately searched for something to say while his eyes strayed to her again and again.
“It is indeed,” her brother agreed. “It is in stark contrast to the noise of the city. I admit I do prefer the quiet solitude of the country.”
Diana chuckled, her face the only one free of nervous tension. “Solitude is all good and well. However, if I were stuck out here without another soul to speak to, I know I should go raging mad.” She smiled at Eleanor. “Hence, the house party.”
Smiling, Eleanor nodded. “Indeed, good friends are necessary for one’s happiness. I am delighted that they have all agreed to join us out here on such short notice.”
“Mr. Waltham,” Diana addressed Henry, “from my cousin I’ve heard that you are acquainted with her husband, Lord Norwood.”
Before Henry could answer, a snort escaped Arthur, and all eyes turned to him. Swallowing, he cleared
his throat, then reached for his tea. “I apologise,” he mumbled, taking a sip before making a show of clearing his throat again and again as though something had lodged there.
Eleanor sighed, casting a disapproving glance at her brother. Yes, Henry was acquainted with Lord Norwood, and yes, before his marriage to Diana’s cousin Rose, Lord Norwood had been the most notorious rake in all of London. However, there was no reason to hold such an acquaintance against Henry. After all, many people had made Lord Norwood’s acquaintance at some point or another, and had he not changed his ways since meeting his young wife? From what Diana had told her, Eleanor knew that more than a year after their wedding, the young couple was still madly in love.
“Yes,” Henry finally replied, a slight tension coming to his shoulders as he, too, understood only too well the implications of such an acquaintance. “He and my eldest brother, Stephen, went to Eton together. I myself haven’t seen him in a few years. However, I am delighted that he will be at the house party as I haven’t yet had the opportunity to congratulated him on his nuptials.”
“Well spoken,” Diana commented, her eyes aglow with delight as they glanced at Eleanor. “Friends of my husband’s will also be in attendance. I do not know if you’re acquainted with them: Lord Harrington as well as his younger brother, Mr. Wesley Everett.”
Eleanor could hardly suppress a grin as her brother rolled his eyes. Like Lord Norwood, Wesley Everett had been a rake in his day as well…until he had met his wife and fallen head over heels in love with her.
“I haven’t had the pleasure,” Henry replied, his shoulders relaxing as he saw the large smile on Eleanor’s face, and the tension in the room dissipated. “However, I am looking forward to making their acquaintance.”
Shaking his head, Eleanor’s brother sighed, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’m certain we shall have a marvellous time.” He turned his gaze to his wife, and a deep smile lit up his face. “A house party was a wonderful idea.”
As Diana returned his smile, footsteps echoed from down the hall.
“This will be my brother Nick,” Henry said, rising to his feet a moment before the door opened, and the man in question stepped over the threshold.
Watching him with curious eyes, Eleanor immediately noticed a certain resemblance between Nick and Henry. Nick shared his brother’s dark hair and watchful gaze as he took in the room and those seated in it. However, while Henry always appeared amiable, his eyes kind as he met friends and strangers alike, his brother’s gaze was dark, troubled, almost tortured.
Eleanor drew in a steadying breath, understanding Henry’s concern for his brother.
“Nick,” Henry began, gesturing to their guests, “may I introduce you to−”
“I’m afraid I cannot stay,” Nick interrupted, his voice almost a growl as he took a step back. Tension held his body rigid, and his lips were pressed into a thin line as though to hold back words he knew he ought not to speak. Shaking his head, he retreated farther until he suddenly spun around and stormed from the room.
Taken aback, Henry stared after him, then cleared his throat, a touch of embarrassment colouring his cheeks. “I do apologise for my brother’s behaviour,” he said, his voice holding displeasure as well as concern. “If you’ll excuse me.”
Hastening after his brother, he gently closed the door behind him, casting Eleanor an apologetic glance.
“That was odd,” Diana observed, turning enquiring eyes on Eleanor. “Do you have any idea what upset him so?”
Eleanor shook her head, deeply troubled by the thought that yet another member of their two families seemed to disapprove of her and Henry’s union.
In the distance, they could hear mumbled voices arguing, their tones harsh and unyielding.
Arthur sighed, “Apparently, Mother is not the only one opposing your match,” he said, regretful eyes meeting Eleanor’s as though he had read her thoughts.
Drawing in a deep breath, Eleanor closed her eyes, wondering if it would always be like this. Whenever she felt as though they were one step closer toward their happily-ever-after, something happened that would force them two steps back.
***
Outrage giving his legs speed, Henry rushed from the room, humiliation and a sense of terror heating his face. As much as he had expected his brother’s presence to complicate things, he had never anticipated that his brother’s behaviour would present such a problem. How could he have done this? Did Nick not know how important it was to make a good impression? What if Lord Stanhope changed his mind and decided to side with his mother’s opinion after all?
All would be lost. Henry was certain of it.
In the hall, he finally caught up with Nick, grabbed him by the arm without a word and dragged him into the library. Only when he had shut the door firmly behind them did he spin around, fixing his brother with an icy stare. “Why?” he growled, words eluding him. Shaking his head, he stared at Nick, barely noting the trembling fury that seemed to hold him in his grip as his hands clenched and unclenched as though he had no control over them. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
Gritting his teeth, Nick met his angry gaze, his lips pressed into a tight line, the muscles in his jaw tense to the point of breaking. “I told you I shouldn’t have come,” he forced out, his voice hoarse, “but you wouldn’t listen.”
Swallowing, Henry inhaled deeply, hoping to calm the anger that coursed through his veins. “So, you acted out of spite? Is that it? I forced you to accompany me, and this is your revenge?”
Nick’s nostrils flared at the accusation, and he raised his chin. “Do you truly believe I would intentionally hurt you, Brother?”
Henry shook his head, not knowing what to believe. “How would I know? These past few months you have been so different that I hardly recognise you. All you do is drown your sorrows−whatever they are−in one drink after another. What happened to you?”
Again, Nick clamped his mouth shut, his eyes closing for the barest of moments as though he could not bear to look at the world any longer.
Torn between compassion and anger, Henry took a step toward his brother. “I love her,” he said, allowing all the emotions that thudded in his chest to show in his voice. “She is my other half, and the thought of losing her is the worst torture.”
Blinking his eyes rapidly, Nick turned his head toward the floor, and for a split second, Henry thought to see the hint of tears in his eyes. What had happened to his brother?
“This is my chance,” Henry went on, hoping that Nick would listen−truly listen−and understand what was at stake. “Lady Stanhope is dead-set against the match, and Eleanor cannot bring herself to go against her mother. At least we have her brother’s support−or we did until you acted the way you did−but it will not be enough. We already need a miracle to occur,” placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder, Henry waited until Nick met his eyes, “please do not make this anymore impossible than it already is.”
Feeling his brother’s shoulder tremble under his grasp, Henry found his anger waning. He took note of the pain clearly visible in his brother's eyes as well, his face alternately flashing hot and then paling again as though he, too, felt torn. “I would never seek to ruin your chances,” Nick finally said, meeting his brother’s gaze, his own eyes shining with tortured determination. “However, I must implore you to forget Eleanor and return to London before this ends badly.”
Henry swallowed, his heart frozen as though dipped into ice at the mere thought of losing her. “I cannot do that,” he breathed, his voice barely audible, shrouded in shock. “How can you ask that of me? I thought you understood. I thought despite everything you knew how much I love her.”
Nick’s face contorted into a grimace. “You love her, yes, I am aware. But does she love you as well?”
Stunned beyond comprehension, Henry stumbled backwards, his eyes focused on his brother’s face, and yet, he could not help but feel as though he was talking to a stranger.
&nbs
p; Nick swallowed, regret and resolve waging a war within him. “I’m not saying this to hurt you. Quite the contrary, I seek to put you on your guard.” Again, he swallowed, and deep pain came to his face. “The regard of a woman can be as fleeting as that of a man.”
Still stunned into speechlessness, Henry forced himself to look at his brother. He forced himself to see the tension that held him rigid, the heavy weight resting on his shoulders that threatened to crush him at any moment as well as the anguish that echoed in his voice whenever he spoke. Taking a deep breath, Henry held the need to lash out at Nick at bay. “I’ve asked you this before,” he began, his gaze trained on his brother, “do you speak from experience?”
Instantly, Nick averted his gaze, his hands once more clenching into fists.
“I cannot believe that you would speak the way you do without cause, without an emotional involvement,” Henry continued, watching his brother’s face carefully. After a long moment of heavy silence, he finally asked the question he should have asked months ago…only he had been too occupied with his own misery to notice his brother’s. “Who broke your heart? Who was she?”
Nick’s head snapped up like an arrow released from a bow, his eyes ablaze as he stared at Henry. His lips quivered, and for a moment, Henry thought he would finally receive an answer. However, a second later, Nick once more turned away and stormed off, slamming the door shut behind him.
Hanging his head, Henry drew in a deep breath, wondering who the woman was who had stolen his brother’s heart and then ripped it to pieces. He remembered Nick’s shocked reaction when he had told him that they were to spend the summer in the country at Sanford Manor…near Stanhope Grove.
Henry swallowed, then closed his eyes as some of the pieces fell into place. Could it be that the woman in question had a connection to Eleanor’s family? To Eleanor herself?