A Little Bit Sinful (30 page)

“On that point we most definitely agree.”

She sent him a blistering glare, then stalked toward the door, picking up her luggage on the way. “Farewell, my lord.”

“Wait!” His voice was raw. “Where are you going? How will you get there?”

Her back stiffened, taut as a wire, but then her head lowered until it rested against her chest. She felt so tired. “My great-aunt in Bath will offer me refuge.”

“Are you certain? Shouldn’t you send a message first and make sure you will be welcomed?”

Eleanor refused to even think about it. To be turned away was simply too unbearable a concept. “Aunt Jane is the sister of my maternal grandmother. She has never married, but is a progressive-minded female who has always disliked the earl. I have only met her twice, but we exchange letters several times a year. She will shelter me until I sort myself out.”

Saying the words out loud gave Eleanor a confidence she did not entirely feel. But it helped enough to still the panic whirling inside her. She observed Sebastian fumbling in his pocket and had a sudden inkling of what he meant to do. “I swear by all that is holy, if you try to give me any money I will slap you.”

His arms stilled, his hands slumped to his sides. “At least take my carriage. It is comfortable and safe. You can’t possibly travel on a public coach without a proper lady’s maid.”

“Ah, yes, my precious reputation again.”

“Eleanor, please. Be sensible.”

Though she hated to admit it, he was right. Being contrary just to prove a point was foolish. It was like her Scottish housekeeper liked to say,
‘Twas a foolish lass indeed who cut off her nose to spite her face.

“I’ll use your coach,” she said grudgingly. “But I need to leave
now.”

He nodded. “It will only take a few minutes to have the team harnessed.”

Reminding herself to breathe, Eleanor descended the staircase, Sebastian at her heels. Thankfully none of the servants were in view. It would have been too humiliating to see Mrs. Florid or Higgins. As it was, she could only imagine the talk that was going on below stairs.

Agitated, she paced the foyer while Sebastian made the arrangements. Though it felt like hours, it was only a few minutes until he returned. Her muscles drew up tightly as he approached. Either seeing or sensing her resistance, he did not offer his arm. In tense silence they walked out the front door, side by side.

Eleanor scrambled inelegantly inside the carriage without assistance, making certain there was no chance for a final good-bye. Her pride in shreds, she pulled the carriage door shut with a resounding thud. Her nerves were at the breaking point and she knew she could not endure another word or even a glance from him.

She heard Sebastian give the order to drive on. Eyes planted straight ahead, Eleanor refused to look out the window until they had turned off the drive and started on the main road.

It was then that she noticed how blue the sky was, how brightly the sun was shining, how warm and lovely the temperature. It was a beautiful day, picture perfect in nearly every way. The type of day she would have relished taking a leisurely stroll in the garden, or an afternoon reading under a shady elm.

Or best of all, a day joyfully spent in Sebastian’s company, in Sebastian’s arms.

No, that will never happen.
Eleanor closed her eyes, fighting back the pain, trying to smother her sobs with her hand. But it was no use. Her heart was shattered, her dreams destroyed. The tears rolled down her face unchecked. She cried, not only for what she had lost, but for what she would never have—a partnership with a loving husband who understood and respected her, and children to raise and cherish.

Yet she sobbed hardest of all because she knew, despite everything, she would never cease to love Sebastian.

The carriage ride to Bath was surprisingly uneventful. The coach driver was skilled and knowledgeable, the two grooms efficient. They chose the cleanest, safest posting inns, making all the arrangements for meals, rooms, and fresh horses. They also paid for everything, though Eleanor never witnessed an exchange of coin.

She was treated with the utmost courtesy and respect. Even the weather cooperated, remaining sunny and rain-free for the duration. It had all the elements of a pleasant trip, but of course Eleanor could not shut down her mind, turn off her memories, or ignore the reason she was going to Bath in the first place.

Sebastian. How could you?
Her thoughts and emotions in constant turmoil day and night, Eleanor struggled to get a grip on the situation and herself. Regret was a constant companion, accompanied by uncertainty and heartache. Yet it was anger that surfaced most often, anger at Sebastian for his callous treatment of her. Anger at herself for being such a
naive fool. Anger at her father for his cruelty toward all the women in his life.

By the time she arrived at her aunt’s townhome, numbness had set in and Eleanor knew she was functioning on sheer will alone. She allowed one of the grooms to guide her to the front stoop and knock on the door, making no protest when he informed the butler who she was and whom she wanted to see.

Great-Aunt Jane took one look at her beleaguered face and hastened her inside. Eleanor was profoundly grateful. She was shown to the best guest chamber in the house, a pretty, airy room done in lovely shades of yellow, appointed with delicate, feminine French furniture.

After a warm bath and a strong cup of tea, Eleanor climbed into the big four-poster bed, huddled under the pale yellow satin counterpane, and slipped into oblivion.

She stayed in bed for two days, forcing herself to eat a few bites of food from the trays the solemn-faced maid brought to her, telling herself that tomorrow the heavy-limbed fatigue she felt would lessen and she would rouse herself from the bed.

On the morning of the third day, Eleanor scolded herself severely, then literally dragged her weary body to the dressing table. She sat listless as the maid arranged her hair, then helped her dress in a simple, high-waisted day gown. Ready at last, Eleanor made her way to the dining room, still uncertain precisely what she was going to say to Aunt Jane.

“‘Tis good to see you standing on your feet, Eleanor.” Aunt Jane was a short, slender woman
with silver hair and piercing, intelligent blue eyes. She smiled with closed lips, then released the lorgnette she had been using. It dangled from her neck at the end of a silver chain, resting comfortably against her flat chest. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Marginally.”

Aunt Jane nodded. “Sit. Some hot food will put the color back in your cheeks.”

Smiling her thanks at the footman who pulled out her chair, Eleanor did as she was commanded. Feeling no hunger, she stared listlessly down at the plate of food placed in front of her. Then realizing she was being ungrateful, Eleanor gingerly picked up a fork and attempted to eat.

“I’ve been reading yesterday’s
Times,”
Aunt Jane said as the footman refilled her coffee cup.

Eleanor’s fork clattered noisily on the edge of her still-full plate. “Oh?”

“There is nothing in there about you.” Aunt Jane rattled the newspaper as she folded it, gesturing for the servants to leave. “I think it’s a good sign, don’t you agree?”

“Yes,” Eleanor whispered. “Though an item might yet appear. I think it only fair to warn you.”

“I am a respectable woman, Eleanor, received in all of the best homes. If you’ll pardon my boast, many consider me a pillar of our close-knit community. I am not, however, a prude.” Aunt Jane reached across the table and patted Eleanor’s hand. “I assume your father has forsaken you in your time of trouble?”

Eleanor struggled to swallow. “We are estranged, a breach that is in all likelihood permanent.”

“A pity. For him.” Aunt Jane pushed her empty plate away. “Not that I am surprised to hear of it. The earl always was a horse’s arse.”

Eleanor grimaced and Aunt Jane continued. “If you want to talk about what happened, I shall listen and give my opinion and advice.”

“Forgive me, I … I … cannot as of yet.”

“That is perfectly fine,” Aunt Jane replied soothingly. “Thanks to the foresight of my mother, I am a woman of independent means. Since you are no longer under the earl’s protection, you may make your home with me for as long as you wish.”

Eleanor sagged visibly with relief. “I don’t want to impose. If you do not employ one, perhaps you would consider me for the position of companion?”

Aunt Jane squinted harshly. “You are the daughter of an earl, Eleanor, a lady born and bred. Do not seek to lower your position by demeaning yourself with work.”

“I am not used to being idle, Aunt. I will concede to your wishes, but I am determined to make myself useful to you.”

Aunt Jane’s features softened. “I am so glad you have come to me, Eleanor. For reasons he never explained, the earl deliberately kept you and your sister from me. I always wanted a closer relationship with the two of you, and regret mightily that I did not push harder to achieve it.

“Alas, women have little power in this world of men. We must not squander it, but use it wisely. Though I am sad for the circumstances, I am delighted to have the chance to help. Your letters have been much appreciated over the years, especially since I have no other family.”

Eleanor cleared her throat. “I am more grateful than I can say, Aunt Jane. Without you, I truly do not know where I would have gone, what would have become of me.”

Though she fought to keep herself composed, Eleanor’s voice quavered on her final words.

“Chin up, Eleanor,” Aunt Jane commanded. “‘Tis far too early in the day to be so maudlin. Now, if you are finished pushing the food around on that plate, I’d like to show you the rest of
our
home.”

Eleanor’s throat tightened. She felt the tears burning behind her eyes and could not quiet the sob that escaped. Aunt Jane’s expression remained calm, though her eyes became noticeably shiny. “Go on, dear girl. Have a good, hard cry. Then dry your eyes, hold up your head, and consign those who have put you through such misery to the devil.”

Over the next two weeks, Eleanor’s days took on a strange, routine pattern. Breakfast with Aunt Jane, accompanied by a lively discussion of the events reported in the newspaper. The remainder of the morning was devoted to correspondence, though Eleanor had only Bianca to write to and no reply was received. The lack of communication distressed Eleanor greatly, yet she was not surprised, for there was a strong possibility her letters were being intercepted by the earl.

Once their correspondence was attended to, Eleanor usually read or embroidered while Aunt Jane handled the household matters. After a light luncheon, there were calls to make, shops to visit, and weather permitting, a brisk walk in the park.
Evenings were occupied with supper parties, card parties, concerts, and the occasional assembly. Thanks to Aunt Jane’s influence, Eleanor was easily accepted into the small circle of Bath society and if there was speculation as to her sudden appearance it was never repeated within Eleanor’s hearing.

It was not the frantic pace of London during the Season, but there was plenty to do if one was of a mind to keep busy. The majority of Aunt Jane’s friends and acquaintances were advanced in years, but Eleanor also met people nearer to her own age. She was always polite and distant among company, and unfailingly grateful she encountered no one she had previously met in London society.

It was the simple, uncomplicated life of a genteel noblewoman, confining in some ways, yet because they were a female household, ‘twas liberating in others. Eleanor repeatedly told herself she would eventually adjust and come to accept that with the exception of a few variations, this was more than likely how the rest of her life would play out.

Considering all that had happened, Eleanor knew she was a very fortunate woman. Even if she didn’t always feel like one.

Losing contact with Bianca was the worst part of her banishment. She missed her sister constantly and worried what the earl might have told his younger daughter about Eleanor’s abrupt departure from Town. She was also very aware that Bianca’s wedding was scheduled to take place in a few short weeks. When she expressed her concern to Aunt Jane, the older woman concurred with the need for caution, since Bianca still lived under the earl’s protection and was subject to his whims.

Once Bianca was married, however, it should be much easier to reestablish a connection. As for the wedding, well, Aunt Jane decreed they would attend, invited or not.

Two weeks to the day that she arrived, Eleanor sat in the drawing room, a book in hand, while Aunt Jane reviewed the weekly menus. The quiet was soothing, the atmosphere pleasant. Like most older people, Aunt Jane was rather set in her ways, but Eleanor found they got along very well together.

Aunt Jane never questioned her when she appeared at the breakfast table listless and red-eyed after a difficult night, never pushed her to participate in social events if she asked to stay behind. Eleanor was more grateful than she could say for the kindness and understanding she had been shown. Without it, she feared she might have lost her sanity.

“There is a gentleman at the door, Madame,” the butler announced as he shuffled into the drawing room, then held out the visitor’s card on a silver tray.

“At this hour of the day? ‘Tis far too early to be paying calls.” Aunt Jane reached for the ever-present lorgnette dangling around her neck, lifted it to her eyes, and peered at the card. “Are you certain the gentleman asked for me, not Lady Eleanor?”

“He asked to see you, Madame,” the butler confirmed.

Eleanor glanced up from her book and frowned. Aunt Jane’s butler was an elderly man, with fading eyesight and rheumatic knees. His stiffness came from his physical limitations rather than his proper attitude. He was long past the age to be pensioned
off, yet insisted working gave him purpose and thus Aunt Jane kept him on staff.

“Clearly the gentleman has come to the wrong establishment,” Aunt Jane bristled. “I am not acquainted with him, nor any of his people.”