Page 2 of Courting the Earl
Lydia pouted. “Is Lord Hargrove expected soon?”
Eleanor picked up the small basket one of the maids had brought down earlier so she could continue to work on her embroidery. While she wasn’t a fan of tagging along with her aunt and cousin as they continued with their unspoken mission of visiting every modiste on Bond Street, she liked embroidery even less. But it kept her thoughts partially occupied as the pair went over the long list of items they wanted to purchase for Lydia’s upcoming season. It seemed that the list kept growing longer. They’d been in town for two days now and had spent most of that time shopping.
She supposed it was a good thing her uncle was wealthy. Heaven knew Lady Appleby would be content to purchase the world for her only child.
The two discussed returning to the modiste that afternoon to order even more dresses. It was almost identical to the conversation they’d had yesterday, only then they’d been discussing milliners.
“I don’t know why you’re wearing that horrid dress. It makes you look quite ill.”
Eleanor wasn’t really paying attention to the conversation, and so it took her a few seconds to realize the comment had been addressed to her.
She looked up to find Lydia frowning at her.
Eleanor lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. “It doesn’t matter what I’m wearing. Lord Hargrove is coming here to see you and not me.”
Lydia arched one brow. “You’re coming with us when we go shopping.”
Eleanor held back her wince. “Aunt and Uncle have already been very generous with me. I’m sure my wardrobe will suffice for those occasions when I’m called upon to act as your chaperone in Aunt Helen’s absence.”
“I insist,” Lydia said with a shake of her head. “This might be your last chance to find a husband. Just because I’m already betrothed doesn’t mean the two of us can’t enjoy the season.”
Lydia’s generosity was only one of the reasons Eleanor loved her cousin so much. It was true that Lydia was spoiled, but she wasn’t selfish.
“Of course I’ll come with you. But truly I don’t need anything. I’m quite content with the dresses in my wardrobe.”
“Well, we’ll need to find one to replace that ghastly thing because I plan to burn it later. Honestly, how is it possible that you can help me choose the perfect dress this morning but decide to wear that?”
Eleanor had no reply to Lydia’s criticism. Her cousin was exactly right, but the last thing she wanted was Aunt Helen thinking she was trying to overshadow her cousin. It wouldn’t be possible of course, but still. She was very aware that she was at the mercy of her father’s brother and his wife. They’d always been kind to Eleanor, but it was very clear that their world revolved around Lydia. She didn’t want to behave in any way that might lead to their censure.
A knock sounded then, unnaturally loud. Eleanor set her embroidery down on her lap and waited. She glanced at Lydia, who smiled back at her with a wide grin.
“Patience,” Aunt Helen murmured.
“Yes, Mama,” Lydia said before taking a few deep breaths and working to keep her expression even.
When she heard the deep voice of a man speaking to their butler, Eleanor was surprised at the nerves that fluttered to life in her belly. She attributed it to concern for Lydia.
And then her cousin’s betrothed stepped into the room.
Aunt Helen stood to greet him and dipped into a curtsy. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord. I know Lord Appleby reached out to you last year, but I was sorry to hear about your father’s passing and wanted to extend my condolences personally.”
Eleanor tried not to stare, but she couldn’t help but be taken aback by the man’s appearance. He was quite tall. Light brown hair was brushed back from his face, and when his gaze made a quick survey of the room and its occupants, she noticed his eyes were an attractive shade of blue.
“Thank you,” he said with a small bow. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
His bow was executed with a casual elegance, and Eleanor had to hold back a sigh. Heavens, Lord Hargrove and Lydia would make beautiful babies.
Aunt Helen turned toward the settee. “Allow me to introduce my daughter, Lydia Pearson.”
Lydia stood and dipped into a flawless curtsy.
Eleanor was content to watch the scene play out from her seat on the settee. This was the part where Lord Hargrove would flush, perhaps even stammer, as he gazed upon the woman who was to be his bride. Instead, he murmured a smooth “A pleasure” and then turned to look at Eleanor.
There was a tense moment where Eleanor felt her heart trip in her chest under his scrutiny.
Finally her aunt gave a small laugh. “Oh, and this is my niece, Miss Eleanor Pearson.”
Eleanor stood and dipped into her own curtsy. “My lord.” She hadn’t expected to be a participant in the morning’s tableau.
