Page 11 of A Marriage of Convenience with a Rake
“Please do,” Papa replied, stamping his boots dry on the doormat and then turning to Eleanor with a grin. “Let’s go up, my dear.”
“Yes, Papa,” Eleanor murmured. She felt her stomach twist with nerves.
The butler hung their wet outer clothing by the door and then they went upstairs with him to the drawing room.
“Good afternoon!” Lord Ramsgate greeted them, smiling at Papa and bowing low to Eleanor. “Very pleased to welcome you, Mr. Montague. Miss Montague.”
“Thank you,” Eleanor said quietly. She dropped a low curtsey, bobbing another one to Lord Glenfield, who stepped forward to greet them. She tried to ignore him, but her heart strained to look at him, to see if he looked exactly as she recalled him from last time. His image had been oddly difficult to dislodge from her thoughts. She recalled those dark eyes, that thin, sardonic mouth, at odd times during the day and found herself flushing.
It’s anger, she reminded herself crossly. I’m furious with him.
She gazed up at him, holding his stare angrily. He looked back and she saw one brow raise, his lips lifting.
“Miss Montague,” he greeted, bowing low.
Eleanor felt her stomach twist with discomfort. She did not understand the way he looked at her, the light in those dark eyes. Was it amusement? Was he amused by her? She looked away, cheeks flushing.
“Miss Montague! Will you come and take some tea?” Lord Ramsgate asked. Eleanor glanced over at the table, where Papa was already waiting to take a seat, grateful to him for the distraction.
“Yes, Lord Ramsgate. I would be glad to,” she said swiftly. That was true—after the cold, bumpy ride in the coach she wanted a cup of tea to warm up and to refresh herself.
She went to sit at the table. Lord Glenfield drew out a chair for her. She looked up at him, a strange mix of annoyance and appreciation filling her. Annoyance, because someone who clearly had no manners was polite, and appreciation because she dearly wanted to sit down, and it was kind of him to do so.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“Mr. Epping,” Lord Ramsgate called to the butler. “Please come and pour the tea.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Eleanor thanked the butler as he poured some tea into her cup, and he looked surprised at her politeness but nodded formally despite his surprise.
“So,” Lord Ramsgate continued as the butler poured tea for the rest of the guests and wandered out of the room again, “I believe that investments in jute have been hard-hit lately.”
“Papa,” Lord Glenfield objected, as Eleanor’s father cleared his throat to comment. “I don’t think this is an appropriate topic to discuss.”
“What, son?” Lord Ramsgate frowned. “What is unsavoryabout it?”
“There is a lady present,” Lord Glenfield said. “She will find it tiresome.”
“On the contrary,” Eleanor said swiftly, her cheeks reddening, “I find it interesting. Papa told me only yesterday that it would be sensible to find a means of investing in hempen cord instead.”
Lord Ramsgate roared with laughter. “Well! There you are. Tiresome seems not to be the case.”
Eleanor blushed again, this time with shyness.
“My daughter has always paid attention to matters of business,” Papa explained, smiling at Eleanor. “She has a fine head for numbers, too.”
“Papa,” Eleanor said awkwardly.
“It’s true,” Papa told her firmly. “I think there is nothing within the realm of seemly conversation that we cannot discuss with Eleanor being present.”
“Grand. Grand,” Lord Ramsgate continued. Eleanor looked up at Lord Glenfield, who was looking out of the window, seeming embarrassed. She felt a little guilty, but then reminded herself that he had insisted on her being here, even when she had all but pleaded not to be. That made her straighten her spine, feeling only defiant towards him.
The two older men continued to talk about investments and business, and Eleanor listened distractedly, sneaking looks at Lord Glenfield across the table as often as possible without letting him see she was studying him. He had a fine jawline, broad shoulders and that long oval face that had a handsome, tranquil appearance. With those dark eyes and chocolate-brown hair he was very handsome indeed, she thought with some annoyance.
Handsome he might be, but she already knew she did not find him pleasant company. He was difficult and opinionated;she could see that much already.
“Well!” Lord Ramsgate exclaimed, as he poured himself another cup of tea. “I declare. I wonder if it might be permitted for me to show Mr. Montague that interesting prospect that I was offered last week?” Lord Ramsgate turned to Lord Glenfield with his square face lit with a pleasant smile. Lord Ramsgate, Eleanor thought a little sadly, had the nicer character of the two of them. He was open, direct, kind and funny. He seemed to have a larger share of pleasant attributes than his son did.
