The Scandal of Lady Eleanor (18 page)

“I held this riddle in my arms and tried to offer comfort while my beauty cried softly against my shoulder, and then I carried this
wood sprite to her bed. This apparition came to me on three other occasions during my stay at Thorn Hall, and each time I held her close, my heart opened to the pain she had suffered, and I wanted to protect her from such anguish. True—I do not know exactly what my wood sprite suffered at the hands of a despicable, foul overlord, but it did not destroy her, and like the phoenix, she rose to be my life's light.Without her, only darkness looms on the horizon, and now that I have seen the light, I can no longer live in the darkness; for the light is love and truth. Some day I may be worthy of holding the light in my arms.”

Tears coursed down Ella's cheeks, and she forced the sobs down deep within her chest. “You know some of my secrets and still want me in your life?” she whispered hoarsely. His words stunned her senses. “You knew about my nighttime ramblings, but you still kissed me?” Disbelief played across her face.

“Actually, I have kissed you several times since then, and I would gladly do it again if you need reassurance,” he teased.

“James, I cannot fathom how you entered my life.”

Ella seemed pleased with his earlier responses, and he allowed himself a sigh of relief. “Actually, Lady Eleanor, you stumbled into my arms. Fate has a wicked sense of humor, does she not?”

“She does, Lord Worthing; yet, I am blessed she has showed me such favor.”

It was the closest to a declaration of affection he had ever received from Eleanor Fowler, and James beamed with happiness. “I have a strong desire for a cream ice. May I interest you in a side trip to Berkeley Square, Lady Eleanor?”

“Decadence, my Lord?” she taunted.

“The way to a man's heart, my Lady.” He meant it as a tease, but Ella contracted when he touched her arm. Instantly, James regretted his words. “Eleanor, it was a jest,” he whispered to her hair. “Nothing more than a jest.You must believe me.”

“It is fine, my Lord Worthing. Just a taste of reality—it is sometimes a bitter pill to swallow.”

“But you do trust me?”

“With my life, my Lord.”

Two days before her Come Out ball, Ella joined James Kerrington, along with the rest of the Fowlers, at the theatre, her brother making use of his private box. Although they spent time together every day, the
ton
only suspected the viscount's preference for Thornhill's sister, having seen them in each other's company only upon occasion, for they were generally in the company of her brother and her aunt, the Dowager Duchess of Norfield. Occasionally, someone made a comment regarding their public embrace after Ella's horse tried to throw her, but they all explained it away as being true concern for dear friends. As they became better known to the gossips, they both took more care to assure their privacy. However, on this night things changed. Ella entered the theatre on James's arm. In a fortnight, he would declare his intentions publicly, and then they could make plans for a marriage. Having Eleanor by his side gave him contentment—his life finally coming together after so many years of loneliness.

“It is a beautiful building; just look at the architecture,” she spoke softly to James alone.

“Only you, Ella, would come to the theatre for one of Shakespeare's finest and comment on the building itself.”

“Do not tease me, Lord Worthing.You know my nature.”

“Indeed, I do, Lady Eleanor.” They shared a moment of intimacy before turning to the crowd.

Climbing the stairs behind Fowler and the Dowager Duchess, James had never experienced such pride as he did at that moment. Then, his world tilted, for at the top of the steps, a figure appeared, and he felt himself stiffen: Mary Cavendish stood on the upper level, clinging to a gentleman of some fifty years or so. She blushed and took a step back from the railing when their eyes met. James suffered a twinge of guilt, seeing the fear in her eyes—she thought
him upset—after all, he still paid her bills—technically, Mary was his mistress, although he had called upon her but once in two months.

Having Fowler and Godown as part of the group complicated the situation. None of them could acknowledge Mary in public, especially with fine ladies on their arms, but James could tell she wished to offer an explanation as to whom her escort might be. Yet, Mary would not risk his wrath; she knew her place in his life.

 

Ella felt the change in the tension in James's arm, in his bearing as they climbed the stairs. He hid it well, but something he had seen affected his mood. Her eyes began to search the crowd gathered on the upper landing. She half expected to see Sir Louis; such was the way Lord Worthing reacted to the baronet's frequent intrusions, but Levering was not in the throng making its way to the seating.

Nearly at the top, Ella caught the slightest tilt of her brother's head as he passed a rather buxom lady and an elderly gentleman on their right. They exchanged no words, but recognition was obvious.
Who was the woman?
It was not the man to whom Brantley inclined his head; the gentleman looked off to the side.
It was the woman.
Her eyebrow raised in amusement as Bran walked past, and then it was her turn. She and James came abreast of the couple, and Lord Worthing purposely turned his gaze away and increased their pace. Ella had never seen him give anyone a direct cut, and she could not help but to glance over her shoulder at the woman who dropped a quick curtsy to Gabriel's simple nod of acknowledgement.

All at once, she felt sick—her stomach began to turn. Her brother and Lord Godown at least recognized the woman's presence, but James did not. That meant that all three of them held an acquaintance with her, but Ella feared that only Lord Worthing knew the woman intimately. She thought she might swoon. Instinctively, James steadied her steps with his weight, but he did not look at her. His mouth remained set in a tight line; his thoughts were not on her, and Ella knew it.

They entered her brother's box, and Worthing intentionally allowed the Marquis and Velvet to join Bran and Aunt Agatha on the front row. Normally, Ella would have enjoyed the privacy of the second row, thinking it romantic to be separated from their party, but not tonight. Tonight she wanted answers. Her eyes searched the crowd. The gentleman from before seemed well to do, but not fashionable, so although she realized it seemed snobbish, she did not search the plusher boxes for the couple. Instead, her eyes scanned the boxes and alcoves at the stage level until she found them in one of the two-chair box seats on the side incline of the pit area.

The gentleman seated the lady and then moved in close where he might hold her hand. Ella watched the woman smile at the man, but, predictably, her eyes came to where James sat. Ella noted how Lord Worthing stared intently at the empty stage as if expecting it to perform some sort of conjuring trick.

Needing to know and needing to know now, Ella caught his hand resting in his lap, oblivious to the fact the lights had not yet dimmed for the performance. He turned his head to look at her and tried to smile, but it came strained at best. Leaning toward him, she whispered in his ear, “Would you care to tell me who the woman at whom you are trying not to look might be, Lord Worthing?”

He looked deep in her eyes, obviously searching for an answer. “What woman?”

Tears sprang instantly to Ella's eyes. He had lied to her. “Excuse me,” she said loud enough for the others. “I will step to the ladies' retiring room before the play begins.”

“Shall I go with you?”Velvet offered.

Ella shook her head in the negative before springing to her feet. As she reached the draped opening, she turned to the left, needing to be away from him. Lord Worthing had looked in her eyes and lied to her.
If he lied about the woman, where were the other lies?

She was nearly ready to break into a run when he caught her arm, pulling Ella off balance and back into his side. “Do not run,” he hissed under his breath. “We will settle this.
Ba man bia
. Come
with me.” Opening the door to a closet containing brooms and mops and buckets, he pulled Ella in and blocked the door with his shoulder.

“Leave me alone!” Ella pushed against him trying to escape the semi-darkened space.

James set her away from him, as gently as possible. “Not until you listen to what I have to say.”

“Why? So you can lie to me again? Are you going to try to pretend you did not just lie to me? How could you?”Tears flowed, but Ella never backed down.

“Eleanor, please.” Panic constricted his breathing.

“Did you or did you not just purposely tell me an untruth?” She threw up her hands in disgust.

“Yes, I lied,” he sneered, “but I did it to protect you.”

Deflated by his words, Ella turned her back on him. “I do not need protecting, Lord Worthing. In fact, it is I who protects the others in my family. Remember, I am the phoenix—I survive.” Her voice came out hard and unforgiving.

“Ella,” he pleaded, “
Bebakhshid.
I am sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.You have been hurt before, and I promised I would never let it happen to you again.”

“But you did hurt me, James, by not trusting me.” She turned slowly to him. “You hurt me as no one else can because I allowed you to see me—to know my hopes and dreams.” Alarm spread through her veins.

Something between anger and desperation colored his tone. “She means nothing to me, Ella. I swear it.”

“The woman means something, James. You gave her a direct cut—she means enough that you wish to hide her from me.”

“What do you want of me, Eleanor?”

Ella took a half step forward. “I expect you, Lord Worthing, to first tell me your relationship to the lady, and then I expect you to be the gentleman I know you are. You will acknowledge the woman and her escort by introducing me to them.”

“Ella, it is just not done. His Grace would be furious.” He tried to reason with her.

“My almighty brother at least inclined his head to the woman,” she asserted.

Indicating defeat, Worthing just shook his head in disbelief. “You are like no woman I have ever known. May we, at least, wait until the intermission, Lady Eleanor, to meet the woman who was once my mistress?”

Ella swallowed hard, not wanting him to see how much his words affected her. “The lady's name?” she insisted.

“Mary Cavendish.”

“And when did Mary Cavendish stop being your mistress?”Again, the thoughts of his being with anyone else ripped through her.

Kerrington rolled his eyes up in an act of supplication. “Do you realize how embarrassing this is?” He waited for a response, but when none came, he answered her question. “Mary is still my mistress although I have not been with her since before a
demanding… totally irritating…Amazon
stumbled into my arms one day in Kent. I should have released her; I know that; I do not intend on keeping Mary—I guess I did not know how to tell her. She is a kind woman. Mary is a friend; I have never treated her as anything less than a friend until tonight.”

“Then why did you do so this evening?” Ella let hope back into her heart.

“I thought I was doing the proper thing by you. Most women of the
ton
would be appalled.”

“I am
not
most women of the
ton
, Lord Worthing. I have empathy for a woman who must shackle herself to a man in order to survive. Society gives us so few options. The fact that you speak highly of Miss Cavendish addresses the lady's true character.”

“Actually, she is Mrs. Cavendish, a war widow.”

“Then I will meet Mrs. Cavendish, and you will release her from your service before we take the next step.”

“Just like that.”

“Just like that.” Ella looked as determined as before, but the anger had disappeared.

The viscount took a cautious step toward her. “Eleanor, are we well—I mean,
us
?”

Ella snaked her arms around his neck. “
We
, Lord Worthing, are better than
well
, but if you ever lie to me again, there will be hell to pay.” She went on her tiptoes to brush her lips across his.

Breathing a sigh of relief, James quickly deepened the kiss, pulling Ella into his embrace. “I should have known better than to take your brother's advice.”

An eyebrow raised in amusement. “Bran gave you advice about your mistress?”

“More about how to handle you than Mary,” he confessed.

“The man who cannot make up his mind about how to win his cousin's love? That man? That is whose advice you accepted about me? I swear, Lord Worthing, sometimes I wonder about your intelligence,” she taunted.