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Authors: Samantha Holt

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Lucian tipped his hat and
hurried out of the hall as fast as he could. How that woman forced these words
from his lips was beyond him. Little Ellie was a mystery. Soft and tender one
moment, while declaring bold intentions the next. Forgiving and soft then
shooting daggers of annoyance his way. A portrait of plainness with berry lips
and soft skin. Even his body didn’t know what to do with itself. Just the
thought of those lips made his blood boil.

It was no good, he thought,
as he strode down the steps and in what he hoped was the direction of the
stables. He’d not even stopped to ask for his horse to be fetched. He would
simply have to behave more a cad than he already was. Scare her off completely.
It had worked last time. Hell, she had gone and travelled the world after he
had kissed her. Maybe she would take off and do it again if only he managed to
keep his wits about him and make her realise she had no place in the world of
cotton. Or even in his world.

Chapter
Nine

Mama is Always Right

Two days later, a letter had arrived from Eleanor’s mama,
announcing her imminent arrival. Now, on the third day, Eleanor had finished
her meeting with the housekeeper and the butler and they were just about ready
for the Baroness’s visit. Her father was to stay in London it seemed, but Mama
had tired of it now that the season was coming to an end and after all she had
not seen her daughter in over a year. The last time had been at Edward’s
funeral and there had been no time to catch up. Both their lives were busy but
Eleanor had to admit, she had missed her mother’s positive presence.

Now that enough food had
been bought in for mama and her entourage—her Aunt Sylvia, two lady’s maids and
a handful of other servants—the menus had been planned and the guest rooms had
been prepared, there was nothing left to do but wait.

Eleanor peered out of the
window of the Box Room, so called because of its shape, and twined her hands
together. Heavy clouds hung in the sky and she prayed they did not bring rain.
Being trapped indoors didn’t appeal, even if they did have much to catch up on.
She had hoped to give Mama a proper tour of the estate, particularly as her
previous stays had only been brief on her and Edward’s infrequent stays in
England, and Aunt Sylvia had not visited Broadstone Hall at all as she usually
remained in Scotland for much of the year.

She allowed herself a smile.
Aunt Sylvia had probably seen her opportunity to poke around the hall and spend
time with her niece, the countess, and had thus made the effort to travel to
the south in the hopes of the baroness arranging a visit. Eleanor did not know
her aunt all that well with her reluctance to travel to England but, as with
her mama, she had been told she was prodigiously proud of her niece’s
accomplishment at gaining such a rank. What sort of achievement it was to gain
a rank by marrying an old man, she didn’t know.

And still Lucian had not
sent the accounts. A fine thing, probably, with all she had to deal with now,
but she suspected he was delaying. If she had time, she would ride over to
Balmead and demand to know what the delay was, but alas she did not have time.

Not to mention his odd
behaviour the other day. He had seemed concerned for her, then snappish and
then out came these strange admissions... It was all very vexing. How was she
to continue nurturing her dislike of him when he spoke of her being the better
person? It was untrue. Oh, morally, she might be, but in looks and manner, and
achievement, he was far better. Whatever she thought of his past antics, she
had to admit he seemed to work hard at keeping his father’s businesses thriving
and from what she had heard, he took care of his estates well. What could she
say for herself? She had travelled the world, hanging onto the coattails of her
husband and achieved a rank merely by being available and a sort of unfussy
type of woman. Edward had admitted in the past that her lack of ‘
pomp and
prissiness’
appealed to him because he knew he would have no trouble
travelling with her.

What he meant was she was
plain and dull, and would not worry should her hair get messy or her dress get
crinkled. Not that he had ever said as much. Edward had been a kind man—more
than many ladies could say of their husbands.

The sight of a carriage
rounding the corner made her straighten. Butterflies filled her stomach, ready
to take off. It was so important Mama enjoyed her stay at Broadstone. She had
always harboured big dreams for her daughter, dreams Eleanor feared she would
never achieve. She still recalled her mama’s beaming smile on her wedding day.
That, and the proud look on her father’s face had been the best moments of that
day.

The closed carriage drew
close, travelling up through the pruned trees and carefully plotted gardens.
Eleanor was out on the front step before the carriage had come to a halt. The
two footmen came forward to open the door and pull down the stairs and four
women alighted from the vehicle.

A burst of warmth bubbled in
her chest and it took all her strength of keep her feet still and wait for her
mama to ascend the steps towards her.

The baroness, a lady of
slender figure and absolute elegance, hurried towards her daughter and took her
in a warm embrace. “My dear, you look so well. It has been too long. I am sorry
I couldn’t get away sooner. You know how it is and your father was being a terrible
nuisance. I had hoped to bring him with me but business would not allow it. He
shall, however, be along before the winter sets in, I promise you that.”
Breathless, her mama drew back and grinned. “Oh, how I have missed you.” She
pressed a kiss to Eleanor’s cheek and Eleanor laughed.

“I have missed you too,
Mama.”

The lonely ache in her chest
had dissipated in a moment with the arrival of her mother. Eleanor took a
second to study her mother and saw she looked in good health. Her cheeks were
vibrant and though her skin could not be described as youthful, her mama’s
lively eyes and wide smile never failed to make her look young and beautiful.

“Of course you remember Aunt
Sylvia.”

“Of course I do. It’s a
pleasure to see you again, Aunt.”

The tall woman, as slender
as herself and her mother, smiled warmly. They were all of similar looks, the
women in their family. Slightly severe brows, strong noses and unshapely
figures. Yet her mother and Aunt Sylvia always carried it off with far more
grace than she did. Aunt Sylvia’s dark hair had only the merest spot of grey
and while Mama had Eleanor’s colouring, her hair had always been lighter,
adding a delicate effect. It was now almost white but with it swept under her
hat, she still looked elegant and endearingly petite.

Her aunt drew her close and
tears touched Eleanor’s eyes. It had been so very long since she’d had much
physical affection. Edward tried his best but he simply wasn’t interested in
touching her. Not that she blamed him.

She led them into the Cube
Room while the footman brought in tea and cakes, and laid them on the marble
table in the centre of the chairs. Mama settled herself on the long settee and
Aunt Sylvia followed suit. The admiration on her aunt’s face was abundantly
clear and Eleanor smiled.

None of the women in her
family could be accused of possessing the talent of hiding their
emotions—though Eleanor had always been the worst for blurting out every
thought or emotion that ran through her head. That was, until she had been
dragged away from Lucian that night. After that she had been determined to do
better, to prove herself a better person.

“How was your journey,
Mama?”

The baroness leaned forwards
and helped herself to a delicate meringue. “A little bumpy, dear. Some of the
roads from the train station were a little rough but at least it is dry here.”

“Yes, we’ve had quite a dry
spell though I fear we shall see rain by this evening. I am glad you have come,
Mama, Aunt. How long shall you be staying?”

“Several weeks, I expect,”
Aunt Sylvia put in, before running her gaze about the room. “Eleanor, this room
is simply divine.”

Eleanor smiled her
acknowledgement. She rarely used the Single Cube Room, but it still even stole
her breath occasionally. The high painted ceilings and gilded cornicing created
a grandeur that rivalled some of the palaces in England. One large portrait of
Edward’s family spanned the rear wall while several older paintings occupied
the rest of the white walls.

“Tell me, do you have word
from Jane?” Eleanor asked eagerly. She’d not heard about her favourite maid for
some time.

“She is not so well I am
afraid,” her mother said. “You know she has always been fragile, at least
since...”

Eleanor nodded. Jane had
doted on her as a young girl but after a factory accident harmed Jane’s
daughter, she withdrew into herself. For people like Jane, she had to make a
difference, and the mill was just the opportunity to do that.

“Anyway, how are things
since Edward’s passing, Ellie? I hope you are not too lonely. I longed to come
and see you in Paris, but your papa said you would not welcome it.” Her mama
sounded quite put out.

“Edward was quite ill, Mama.
It wouldn’t have been advisable and you know I do not need you to hold my hand
any longer.”

The baroness sighed. “Yes, you
have been terribly insistent on being independent, but you must allow me to
worry for my daughter. Have you met many of the families around here?”

“A few visited with me when
I first returned, but I have no need for parties and suchlike. I would much rather
spend my time on other matters.”

“I must say, Eleanor, I do
not remember you being quite so serious,” Aunt Sylvia declared. “You always
enjoyed parties and dances.”

“Oh Ellie is quite the
serious creature now,” her mama said with a smile. “She has travelled the world
and of course though she might still be little Ellie to us, she is a countess.
We must not forget that, Sylvia.” Her mama lifted both her brows in a teasing
manner and they all laughed.

“Mama, if you keep speaking
so, I shall have no choice but to believe myself entirely above your company
and send you all away.”

Her mother leaned across and
laid a hand across hers. “You know I jest, my dear, but I am so very proud of
you. That said, you really must spend more time with the local families. You
are well out of mourning and it would not be disrespectful to start thinking of
your future.”

“Another husband you mean?”
She knew it was inevitable. She would have to marry again eventually, if only
to make sure the un-entailed estates did not fall to ruin. She had no control
over the Scottish estate that had passed to Edward’s cousin but Broadstone had
been his favourite house. He had made her promise to ensure that nothing
happened to it once he willed everything he could over to her. Not that she was
sure she was even capable of creating those heirs every man so sorely longed
for.

“Well, there is no need to
rush. What of...a companion?”

Eleanor shifted her gaze
from her aunt to her mama, warmth flowing into her cheeks. But both women
looked completely placid. Had she misunderstood? “A companion?”

“Why, yes. Your aunt and I
were just saying we thought you deserved something just for yourself.”

“Yes,” Aunt Sylvia
concurred. “You have achieved more than many of the women in our family have, but
you are not an innocent any longer.”

“Mama! Aunt!”

“We are simply saying there
would be no harm in you taking a little time for yourself and maybe taking
a...a lover,” Mama whispered the last part. “With your status, you’re
practically above reproach.”

Resisting the desire to slap
her hands over her face and hide, Eleanor shook her head. “Mama...”

“Just think on it. We cannot
all be lucky enough to have love matches or for our relationships to even grow
into one. Goodness knows, my mother never expected me to fall for your father,
but thank the Lord I did or I should not be able to put up with his terrible
habits. But a mother wants two things for her daughter. For her to be well
looked after, which you are, and for her to be happy. I’m not sure you have
achieved that yet. You are a wonderful daughter and I am blessed to have such a
dutiful child, but I would not object to you being a little selfish for a
while.”

Exhaustion swamped Eleanor
suddenly. She had spent the past seven years trying her best to be the dutiful
daughter, to live up to expectations that she had feared she had dashed as a
hopeless young girl who had allowed herself to be kissed by a rake. And now her
mama wanted something different from her. She hardly knew what to think.

“I appreciate your concern,
Mama, but I have no need or want to take a...a lover.”

Aunt Sylvia stuffed a
meringue into her mouth and eyed them both avidly as if she were watching an
exciting scene at the theatre.

Her mother nodded. “You know
I only speak out of love for you. You are no innocent, my dear, no matter what
your father may say. But will you at least make an attempt to make some new
friends? A female friend would do wonders for you. You have spent far too long
in the company of one man and you used to have several female friends if you
remember?”

Eleanor remembered. There
were several girls she spent time with but none liked her all that much. She
was too clumsy and ugly to be seen with them. They merely tolerated her. But in
her eagerness to see good in the world, she overlooked their disdain for so
many years.

“I shall try my best, Mama.”

“A ball,” Aunt Sylvia
declared suddenly, as if it was the most original idea on Earth.

“Oh, yes, what a fine idea,”
the baroness agreed.

Eleanor narrowed her gaze at
both the older women. Had they been planning this all along? Or perhaps even
talked of her taking a lover? Was this some plan to find her a one?

“If you shall forget the
idea of a lover, then I shall consent to holding a ball,” Eleanor replied
coolly.

Her mother sat up straight
and her smile widened. “Wonderful idea, Ellie. And do not forget to invite your
neighbour, Lord Rushbourne. I’ve not seen him in years and I hear he is quite
handsome.”

BOOK: Once Upon a Rake
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