Page 28 of Foolish Bride
Dory said, “No tears tonight. Go and calm yourself in the sitting room upstairs. We shall make your excuses.”
“Good idea.” She took a step toward the door.
“Don’t take too long,” Dory called after her.
They all three smiled, and Elinor left the room.
She pulled herself together and rejoined the party. Then she spent the rest of the evening avoiding Michael. It was easier than she would have thought. He seemed to be avoiding her as well. They were seated at opposite ends of the table during dinner. Afterwards he joined the men having brandy and smoking cigars while she sat with the ladies waiting for the cake to be served.
“I think I shall go out on the terrace for some fresh air.” Elinor put down her lemonade and stood.
She let herself out, closing the door behind her. August had come, and the weather was warm, but the evening afforded a nice breeze. She walked to the low stone wall, leaned forward, closed her eyes, and breathed in the scent of roses and other assorted greenery.
With her eyes closed, she could pretend her life was as it had been four months earlier. She could imagine she was soon to be married to a man she loved and trusted, and all would be well.
She opened her eyes.
Michael stood a few feet away, watching her.
“Your grace,” she said, “I did not realize I was being watched.”
“I am sorry. I came out to get away from the cigar smoke. When I saw you, I didn’t know what to do. You looked so peaceful, I hated to disturb you, and yet I didn’t want to run away.” He shrugged and winced.
“I am glad that I have a moment to congratulate you, your grace.”
“Please don’t call me that, Elinor.” He closed the gap between them.
She couldn’t bear his sorrowful tone, but she insisted on keeping her head. “Whatever would you have me call you?”
“Michael, if you please.”
“I cannot.” Her heart pounded. She wanted to feel nothing, but it was impossible.
Frowning, he stepped closer still. “I heard that Preston Knowles is courting you.”
“We danced at a ball.” London gossip was appalling.
He put his hands behind his back. “Preston and I went to school together.”
“Yes, he said as much.”
“You talked to Preston about me?”
“Briefly.”
An awkward silence fell between them. She longed to run to him and hold him in her arms. Longed for the days when there was no awkwardness between them. They could talk or be silent for hours without feeling odd.
Michael combed his fingers through his hair. “He is a good man. I wish you every felicity.”
“It was only a dance. His grace has not proposed, nor do I expect him to.”
“Then he is a fool.” He clenched his hand into a fist as his jaw twitched. “But he is no fool, so I am sure he will ask for your hand in no time.”
“Is that what you want?” Her heart was near exploding. As hard as she tried not to care about Michael, she still loved him.
He opened his eyes wide. “What I want?”
It was all she could do to keep her temper from erupting. “Yes. It occurs to me that it would be much easier for you if I were married and no longer causing you guilt.”
