James hesitated. ‘I don’t...are you sure you will be all right?’
Eleanor stared in puzzlement. As James met her gaze, his jaw clenched. ‘Eleanor?’
‘A drink would be most welcome. Thank you.’
‘Very well.’ He found them two vacant chairs in an alcove. ‘Do not move from here,’ he said in a warning voice.
Eleanor raised a brow. James caught her look and reddened. ‘It is very crowded. I am afraid I will not find you easily,’ he said before hurrying away.
As soon as they were alone, Ruth turned to Eleanor and, taking her hand, regarded her earnestly.
‘I am pleased to have this opportunity to apologise to you, Cousin Eleanor, for I fear I might have appeared unfriendly when last we met.’
‘Think nothing of it, Ruth, for it is quite forgotten.’
Ruth’s intensity unnerved Eleanor. She leant so close as she spoke that Eleanor had to force herself not to recoil. She could not help but look around for reassurance that her guardians were in view. They were. She relaxed.
‘I was anxious about the appointment with my doctor.’
‘Yes. James did explain.’
‘Oh, James.’ Ruth chewed at her lip, momentarily silent. ‘He has changed, Eleanor. I do not know... Oh, it is nothing really.’ She swayed closer and Eleanor, despite her best efforts, drew back. Ruth tightened her grip on Eleanor’s hand and lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘I know I can unburden my heart to you, dearest Eleanor. If only things had been different, we would be sisters now and I know my beloved Donald would urge me to trust you. I know that you love James and will not allow my worries to alter your regard for him, but I have no one else I can talk to.’
Eleanor swallowed hard. Where was James with their wine? What was Ruth implying? She had never liked Eleanor and had blamed her for her brother’s death, yet here she was, introducing Donald into the conversation without a blink of emotion or blame.
‘It is a sensitive subject—’ Ruth continued.
‘Then I implore you to say nothing,’ Eleanor said, pulling her hands free. ‘To be honest, Ruth, if you and James have problems, they should be resolved between the two of you. Do not forget I have loved James from childhood— I am unlikely to take your side in any marital squabble.’
‘No, no! You misunderstand me.’ Ruth grabbed Eleanor’s hands again. ‘I do not seek to drive a wedge between you, but I need to talk of this, in case...in case...the worst comes to pass.’ She gave a low sob and held a handkerchief to her lips. ‘I am sorry. I am a little overwrought.’
‘Very well.’ Eleanor saw that she was unlikely to escape Ruth’s confidences. ‘What is the matter?’
‘James is desperate for a son. But...but...I have been unable to get with child. Oh, Eleanor, he blames me, I know he does. Our appointment the other day was to determine whether anything can be done to help, but the doctor offered no hope. And now...I am so afraid... What if he should...what if he decides he wants a new wife? Mayhap you can understand the strain I have been under and forgive my unwelcoming attitude?’
‘I am so sorry to hear that, Ruth, and of course I forgive you.’ Eleanor buried her instinctive dislike for the other woman under her very real sympathy and patted Ruth’s hand. The woman was so brittle it felt as though she might shatter into a thousand pieces and there was still a fervent glitter in her eye that made Eleanor uneasy. ‘I am always available, if you should feel the need to confide in someone, but I am convinced your worries are without foundation. James is an honourable man. He would never cast you aside.’
‘It is not being cast aside that I fear,’ Ruth said.
‘Then—?’
Ruth turned her head away and Eleanor strained to hear her words. What she said made Eleanor’s blood run cold.
‘It is James.’
Matthew cursed—with fluent inventiveness—under his breath as he watched a succession of wealthy, handsome, titled men dancing with Eleanor. A lead weight anchored in his chest as yet another of her self-appointed guardians led her from the dance floor. He was reconciled—most of the time—to never being worthy of Eleanor, but it was agony to watch her with these men, any one of whom would be a perfect match for her.
‘You’re back.’
Matthew whipped round at the sound of that familiar voice. Every muscle tensed and his chest swelled as he drew in a seemingly never-ending breath. Familiar hard grey eyes assessed him and it was as though the last eight years had dissolved, leaving his eighteen-year-old self facing the man whose love and approval he had craved above all else. He held his father’s gaze as his brain battled for control of both his body and his speech. The colourful, noisy ballroom receded until there was just Matthew, facing his father.
Breathe out. Now.
He willed his voice into the open. ‘You got my letter, then.’
‘What are your plans?’
No welcome. No softening of those stern features. No pleasure in seeing his youngest son—now a man grown—after eight long years.
‘I’m back for good.’
Matthew swung away, but...suddenly, Eleanor was by his side, with a swish of satin and the scent of jasmine. She grabbed his arm, pushed him back round to face his father.
‘Mr Damerel,’ she said. ‘Would you do me the honour of introducing us?’
No! The silent roar reverberated around his head. He scanned the nearby guests; curious faces had turned in their direction. His jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached as he looked his father in the eye again. He stilled, momentarily breathless. Was that uncertainty in those familiar grey orbs?
Not out-and-out rejection, then.
Maybe? Possibly? Hopefully?
‘Eleanor, Lady Ashby, this is my father, Lord Rushock.’
Eleanor dipped into a curtsy. ‘I am delighted to make your acquaintance, my lord. Your son has proved such an invaluable support to me over the past few weeks. He is, if I may say, a son of whom any father would be proud.’
Matthew fought his inclination to close his eyes in despair. What on earth was she thinking?
His father inclined his head. ‘Good evening, Lady Ashby.’
He said no more. The silence loomed around them, prodding Matthew to say something...anything...to fill that void.
‘I am sorry to speak to you of such things in company, but you must know that I intend to pay the debts I owe you.’
A frown creased his father’s brow. ‘That is not
