Behind the Mask (House of Lords) (19 page)

TWELVE

For a moment that seemed like an eternity, Eleanor could not breathe. Her brother stared down at her from atop his horse, his gaze piercing. There was no doubt he knew—or guessed well enough—what had happened inside the cottage, what she and Colin had been doing. She had always had an excellent imagination, but even she could not attempt to persuade herself that he could be convinced nothing had happened. And even if it had not, the appearance that it had was enough to ruin her. But as her brother’s glare shifted from her to Colin, Eleanor realized that it was not her own ruination she should fear, but what her brother might do to the man at her side.

She took a few quick steps towards Leo, opening her mouth to utter some explanation, but he held up a hand.

“Get on your horse and go back to the house, Eleanor,” he said in a voice that indicated he would not listen to any arguments.

She did not even hesitate. She crossed the clearing to where Mabon waited, climbed into the saddle, and cast a rueful glance back at where Colin still stood in the shade of the cottage’s overhang before she rode away towards the great house.

Once she was out of sight of the clearing, however, she turned her horse and urged him into a gallop, speeding away through the trees towards the south hill. She did not stop until they reached the ruins, and by then she had already begun to cry. She practically fell from the saddle, brushing errant strands of hair from her face, wiping at her tears as she did. She sucked in a shaky breath and began to pace, trying to fight back a sob.

How could she have been so stupid? How had she managed to convince herself that they would not be caught? Just because she had managed to keep her first indiscretion a secret did not mean that she would always be able to do so. She had succumbed to the temptation, the lascivious side of her nature, and it had gotten her into trouble again. Only this time her mother would not be able to save her, and nor, she suspected, would Leo.

Her brother would be honor bound to either force Colin to offer for her or challenge him to a duel. Eleanor tried to imagine her brother dueling with anyone—he didn’t even fence, though she knew he could fire a gun reliably enough.

But he and Colin were friends, or they had been at one time. Just like before, Eleanor had destroyed that. Now, unless she married him, it would be impossible for her brother to associate with Colin again.

Cursing her foolishness, Eleanor threw herself down onto one of the low, loose stones that had once made up part of the castle’s wall. Absurdly, she found herself thinking of
Pride and Prejudice
. She, like every girl of sixteen, had read it a dozen times. Just like every other girl who had ever picked up a copy of the tale, she had known what she was meant to think of Lydia Bennet: poor, stupid, wanton girl, undone by her own wild and unprincipled behavior. But instead of cursing Lydia for an unrepentant strumpet, Eleanor had been ashamed to discover on her fourth or fifth reading of the story that she sympathized with her. In the wake of her own downfall, Eleanor had seen not a spoiled, selfish, reckless child but a girl who craved love and affection, who saw that she was a disappointment and an embarrassment to everyone around her, who jumped at the chance to be valued by someone. Eleanor was no student of human nature, but even she was able to recognize the gaping void that had been left in her life by her father’s death, and the desperation she had felt to fill it. He had been the only person who had ever wholeheartedly approved of her, who had never told her to change, who had always valued her for exactly what she was. With only her mother’s increasingly hopeless expectations, was it any wonder Eleanor had fallen for the one person who seemed to believe that she was perfect, that she could never be a disappointment?

Yet even at the age of sixteen Eleanor had been able to recognize that there was some flaw in her character, that there was something in her nature that was not as it ought to be. For what girl who was worthy of a parent’s love and approval would do what she had done, would throw herself away on a man she knew she would never be allowed to marry?

So Eleanor had hidden what had happened between her and Toby, had spent a terrified month praying that there would never be any evidence of her shame, and had hoped that she would never have to reveal to her family how wicked she had been. She had played the role well, she thought. She had managed until now to avoid a marriage, which she knew would force her to reveal her disgrace, for even though she was a fallen woman she still had her pride. She could not bear the thought of a man treating her like damaged goods for the rest of her life because of a youthful indiscretion. And until now she had managed to suppress that dark part of herself, that wanting she had felt for Toby.

But the desire she felt for Colin was a different thing. It was like a fire inside her, a hunger that could not be sated. With Toby she had felt the wanting, the desire for something more than the relatively chaste kisses they had shared, but when it was over she had felt only shame and despair. Now, however, even through her embarrassment, she could not regret what had happened. The encounter in the lodge had only left her wanting more, and God help her, she could not truly be sorry that they would be forced to marry. She knew she ought to regret the inconvenience she would cause him, the trouble that would no doubt arise from this horribly bungled situation, but she could not find it within herself to do so. She could, however, feel ashamed at her lack of remorse, and she certainly did.

Wiping the last of her tears from her cheeks, she tucked her knees up against her chest and wrapped her arms around them, giving herself over to a fit of melancholy. She was not sure how long she sat there, but the sun when winning to descend when she began to wonder if she hadn't better go back to the house and face her doom.

Far in the distance she heard the thunder of hooves approaching. She could not bring herself to look back along the ridge. She tried to prepare herself for the confrontation, for who else could it be but Leo, come to scold her for her idiotic selfishness?

The hoof beats slowed, and she finally forced herself to turn. It was not Leo, after all.

"Eleanor, thank God!" Colin cried as he leapt from the back of his still-slowing horse and rushed towards her. "Why couldn't you go back to the house as you were bid?"

She laughed bitterly. "Haven't you discovered yet that I rarely live up to expectations, My Lord?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at her. "So it's 'My Lord' again, is it?"

She shrugged, but said nothing more.

"Dammit, Eleanor, look at me."

She lifted her chin and met his eyes defiantly.

But in his expression she read not anger, but relief. "Do you have any idea how worried I was? How worried we all were?"

"Leo would have known where to find me," she protested, though in truth she was not certain her brother knew her that well any longer.

He shook his head. "He didn't know. He was terrified you had been hurt or taken like...like Yates, until I remembered this place."

"How did you know I would be here?"

"Remember what I told you—you don't hide your thoughts well. I saw the day before yesterday how important this place is to you."

Had it only been two days ago that she had brought him here? "I suppose you're right," she said. "But you needn't have worried."

He dropped down onto the rock, resting his head in his hands. "You don't know what these men are capable of, Eleanor."

"On the contrary," she said, thinking of the body by the river, "I have a very good idea."

But now he lifted his head to meet her eyes. "That was nothing. If they had found you, if they had taken you..." He didn't need to finish.

"Well, they didn't."

He reached out and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin atop her head. "Please don't do that again," he said. He was trembling, and it frightened her as his words hadn't.

"All right," she said.

"This isn't why I came up here," he said.

"I know."

"Leo and I had a...well, I won't pretend it was anything less than a tongue-lashing," he said, laughing softly. "I think we're very lucky your brother didn't shoot me on the spot."

She pulled away and looked up at him, seeing for the first time the swelling beginning to appear under his left eye. “He did a little more than scold you, didn’t he?”

Colin nodded. “He let me escape with my life, though.”

“I’m glad he did.”

"You may not be when you hear what I have to say next."

She steeled her nerves. "Go ahead."

He smiled. "Try not to sound so thrilled," he said.

"We have made our bed," she said, and then she looked away, "and I must admit that I won't be sorry to lie in it."

"I'm glad to hear it. It will make your brother's wishes easier to carry out."

"And what does Viscount Sidney command?"

"We are to be married on Tuesday."

"Why Tuesday?"

He frowned. "The Princess Victoria and her retinue will be arriving as planned on Wednesday."

"Oh, dear," she said.

"My sentiments...well, not exactly. I used rather coarser words."

"I don't blame you."

"Anyway, it would not be appropriate for us to be under the same roof and unmarried with her in the house, so it is to be Tuesday. Your brother will ride to Norwich tomorrow for the license."

She nodded. "Very well," she said.

"Eleanor," he said, his voice suddenly very serious, "you are not of age, and your brother has the final say over your husband, but that does not mean his is the only opinion that matters. I will not marry you unwilling."

"I don't believe I have been asked yet," she said.

"You are right," he laughed, and he slid off the rock and went down on one knee. Then he took her hand in his and looked earnestly up at her.

Eleanor thought that this was perhaps the most absurd thing that had ever happened to her. She wondered if another woman had ever been proposed to in the ruins of a castle with her face still red from weeping. “Eleanor,” Colin said, looking very determined, “will you marry me?”

She nodded. “I will.”

He kissed her hand, holding it to his lips for a long moment. “Good,” he said at last. “Now, we had better return to the house before your brother goes mad with worry.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, allowing him to help her up off the rock. “My brother has never worried about me a moment in his life.”

He squeezed her hand. “You do not see how precious you are to them. Perhaps they have not made you feel it.” She smiled and tried to pull away, but he held her tightly, pulling her back to him for a kiss. “I will not make the same mistake, Eleanor. You will always know just how important you are to me.”

“Colin,” she protested, “we have barely known each other five days.”

He cupped her face in his hands and forced her to look up at him. “I feel as though it has been five years,” he said. “I
know
you, Eleanor. I see you for who you are, and I would never ask you to change.”

She felt tears spring to her eyes. He wiped them away.

“Why are you crying?” he asked.

She made a rather indelicate snuffling sound and then laughed at her silliness. “You said exactly the right thing,” she explained.

“Thank God,” he said. “If your brother thought I had made you cry, he would probably shoot me still, engaged or not. Now, let’s get back to the house before he sends out a search party.”