stoical presence of William and one of the new footmen, Peter.
‘No doubt his guilty conscience,’ Matthew said.
Eleanor glared at him. ‘Mayhap you should not come inside with us, if you are determined to stir the coals. James is hardly likely to attack me in his own house. Even if he is guilty.’
‘Please do not desert us now, Mr Thomas. I feel so much safer with you here. I begged Ellie not to call upon James unannounced like this, but she would not listen to me.’
‘Why did you not just send him a note and ask him to call on you?’ Matthew said. ‘Then you would meet him on your territory.’
‘I cannot sit at home on tenterhooks waiting and wondering when he might appear. Surely that is understandable?’
‘I understand you are impatient, Eleanor. Just like your mama.’
Eleanor stiffened. Just like her mama. That was exactly what no one must think any more. Apprehension had churned her stomach on and off all day, for tonight marked the beginning of her assault on society, at the Barringtons’ ball. Aunt Lucy had been busy leaving cards with her old acquaintances and the invitations had started to trickle in.
Their new gowns had been delivered that morning and Eleanor was both looking forward to and dreading the moment she must enter the Barringtons’ house and find all those eyes upon her. This time, however, she would not allow the whispers and innuendoes to overset her. She would hold her head high and prove she was not like her mother. At least visiting James gave her something else to worry about.
Aunt Lucy grabbed Eleanor’s hand. ‘I am sorry, Ellie. I don’t know why I said that. I dare say I am nervous at the thought of facing James and what to say to him. I know you are nothing like my silly, selfish sister.’ She halted outside a tall, narrow house. ‘Look, isn’t this James’s house?’
‘Yes,’ Eleanor said, her stomach beginning to churn. ‘This is it.’
She inhaled deeply to settle her nerves as Matthew rapped on the door.
‘Mr Thomas, I know I do not have to say this, but please do not say anything to provoke James.’
‘Me? Provoke?’ Matthew’s brows shot up.
Eleanor laughed. ‘Of course, you would never dream of such behaviour, would you?’
For a long time there was no sound from within but, just as Matthew lifted the brass knocker to rap again, the door opened.
Eleanor stepped forward. ‘Be so good as to inform Mr Weare that his cousin, Lady Ashby, is here and begs a few moments of his time.’
The footman stared at her with a doubtful expression and then stood aside. ‘Good afternoon, Lady Ashby. I shall inform the master you are here. If you would care to follow me?’
They entered a dim hallway that, despite the good address and smart external appearance of the house, showed signs of wear and neglect. The house smelled in need of a good dose of fresh air, to blast away the stale cooking odours. The footman led them into a small reception room—equally musty and shabby, with heavy, dusty-looking dark green curtains framing the dirty glass of the window. Eleanor stripped off her gloves to await her cousin, trying to conceal her increasing unease.
Within a few short minutes, the door flew open and James appeared. Eleanor went to him, her hands held out in greeting, smiling, genuinely pleased to see him again. One look into those clear grey eyes banished many of her doubts. This was James—her beloved cousin, her childhood playmate.
‘James, my dearest cousin, it has been much, much too long. Do please forgive us for calling unannounced, but I could not wait to see you. I do hope we are not putting you out?’ She looked him up and down, then added, teasingly, ‘You look very well, Cousin, but it seems you might have gained one or two pounds since last I saw you. You remember my aunt, Lady Rothley, do you not?’
‘Indeed I do,’ James responded, with a brief bow in Aunt Lucy’s direction. ‘How do you do, Lady Rothley?’
‘And this is Mr Thomas.’ Eleanor sent Matthew a warning look, which he returned with an innocent lift of his brows. How should she explain his presence? ‘He kindly escorted us here.’
‘In addition to the two footmen loitering in my hall?’ James asked, but nevertheless shook Matthew’s hand. ‘You are looking very well, Eleanor,’ he continued, ‘but you should have informed me of your arrival. I would have called upon you.’
Eleanor frowned, puzzled by his manner. As James entered the room his surprise had been palpable, but there had been no sign of pleasure, and his greeting—although polite—held no warmth. Neither had he reassured her that they were welcome. Indeed, his words held more of a scold than a greeting. There was something about his manner—an edginess—she could not understand. Her doubts began to stir again.
Surely Matthew can’t be right about James? No! I will not believe it.
Her stomach started to churn and she clenched her hands, digging her nails into her palms. ‘You must have been aware we were to arrive on Saturday.’ She squared her shoulders, steeling herself to keep her voice steady. ‘It was you, after all, who made the arrangements for the journey. For which, by the by, I thank you.’
James frowned. ‘I am sorry, Eleanor. I left the arrangements to my man and I seem to have lost track of the days somewhat.’
It is up to me to bridge this divide between us.
‘Well, never mind now. It is not so very far to come. Oh, it is so very good to see you again, James.’ Eleanor determinedly quashed her doubts as she clasped his hands again. ‘We have become virtual strangers since you left Ashby. I do so wish it could be otherwise.’
James’s face darkened at the mention of the Manor. ‘There is nothing for me there, Eleanor, as you very well know. We are better off in town.’
Again, an underlying wariness. ‘Is there anything amiss, James? You do not seem completely happy to see us and you have not even invited us to take a seat. Have we called at an inconvenient time?’
He had the grace to look ashamed, casting a fleeting glance at the door as he said, ‘I’m sorry. I’m afraid I have an appointment in half an hour, one I cannot cancel. May I arrange to call upon you tomorrow instead?’
The door opened and Ruth—a slight woman with wispy, fair hair—entered the room. On seeing Eleanor, she stopped abruptly, her pale face set in its customary peeved expression.
‘You did not tell me we were expecting visitors, James,’ she said.
‘I am sorry, my dear.’ He hurried to her side, placing one hand under her elbow. ‘Come and say hello to Cousin Eleanor. Her aunt Lady Rothley is here, too. And this is Mr Thomas. I was just explaining to Eleanor about our appointment.’
‘I am sure they can have no interest in that,’ Ruth said, as James urged her forward.
Reflecting that uncivil behaviour in another did not mean one should forget one’s own manners, Eleanor smiled at Ruth, extending her hand.
‘Cousin Ruth, how do you do? I hope we find you in good health?’
Ruth
