The Unaccomplished Lady Eleanor (24 page)

‘
Oh,
of course I am, ma’m,
’
blustered Lady Madeleine. 
‘
But I really
have no idea of my plans.  If I may, M.
Aminieux, I will inform you of my arrangements as and when I have made them.
’

‘
Of course,
’
beam
ed M
.
Aminieux. 
‘
But
do not leave it too long. 
Madam
e Aminieux will be most upset
if I do not arrange something very soon.
’

Madeleine
toss
ed
him
another winning smile and inclined her head before making a dart for the door, whic
h Giles was holding open
.  She disappeared through it like a shot.
  

Having
deemed
Viscount Grayson’s
visit a complete
success, the
d
owager
talked of little else.  Did Eleanor know
, for example, that the Grayson
s were one of the mo
st respected families in all
England?  Was she aware that they were one of the largest landowner
s?  Could she believe that the v
iscount’s great-great-great-great-grandfather had personally rescued Queen Elizabeth when she had been attacked by a band
of marauders whilst out hawking?
 
Unable to
suffer her godmother’s enthusings  a second longer, Eleanor escape
d
to the library with a c
opy of Lord Byron’s latest poem
,
The Corsair
.  She
made herself
comfortable
in a
damask high-backed chair there, tuck
ing her legs under her.  She had been
there for over an hour, enjoying the poem and the solitude, when her peace was rudely interrupted by the sound of footsteps making their way briskly along the corridor. 
All too aware
of the
d
owager
’s opinion
on Lord Byron’s work
, she had, in preparation of an unexpected visit from her godmother, left the library door slightly aj
ar in order that she could hear the old lady
approaching and quickly exchange her book for another. 
A copy of
One Hundred Essential Etiquette Tips for Young Ladies
lay
on the drum table in front of her for this very purpose. 
It quickly became apparent,
however, that it wasn’t her godmother approaching, but several men, all
dressed in black, and all
bearing
large
bundles of papers.  They
marched
briskly
in the direction of the
drawing
-
room.  James wa
lked
behind them
, deep in conversation with a man sporting a greying beard
. 

   Their conversation was interrupted by the nasally tones of Derek Lovell, hailing James from further down the cor
ridor.  He sounded
out of breath.  Eleanor re
coiled
.  She had not seen
him
since
the Carmichaels’ ball.  H
e appeared rarely to be at the c
astle, a fact for which she was exceedingly grateful. 

‘
Prestonville
, wait up
, old chap
.
I couldn’t have a quick word could I?
’
he puffed, obviously running to catch up with his host.

James came to a halt directly outside the library door allowing Eleanor
a
perfect view of h
im. 
‘
I have a meeting w
ith my solicitors
, Lovell
. 
Can’t it wait until later?
’

‘
I’m afraid not. 
It’s a bit …
sensitive
.’ 

Eleanor could see all three men now.  She watched as
James rolled his eyes. 
‘
I’ll be with you in a moment, Richard,
’
he said to the bearded man, who nodded
a
nd walked on after his colleagues.     

James placed his hands on his hips. 
‘
Now
what is it?
’
he
demanded
irritably.

‘
You couldn’
t lend me some money,
could you?
’

James sighed and ran a hand through his dark glossy hair. 
‘
I lent you
money yesterday
.  And
the day before that
.  A
nd the day before that.
’

‘
I know.  I know,
’
replied Lovell, with a forced laugh. 
‘
It’s ju
st that things haven’t been
going very well, if you know what I mean.
’

‘
Oh, I know what you mean, all right
. 
You’ve been losing hand ov
er fist at the gaming tables
.  Well, I’m sorry, Lovell
,
but I’m not prepared to fund your gambling any longer.  I
refuse
your request and would be grateful if you could refrain from asking me again.
’

Lovell
’s face flushed puce. 
‘
But you can’t refuse me. 
What
will I do?
’

‘
That
is not my problem.  Now
,
I have neither the time nor the inclination to
continue this discussion. 
I have a
n
impo
rtant meeting
, which
will take
some time.
I bid you good day, sir.
’

James inclined his
head
, turned on his heel
and
continued his march
down the corridor.  Lovell
stood,
rooted to the spot, for several long seconds before
spinning around and stalking off
in the opposite direction.
The look upon his face as he left was one of red-hot anger.

Ever since Lady Ormiston’s garden party, the weather had continued on its glorious way to summer
,
the balmy days
stretching
to equall
y balmy evenings
. 
T
he last two evenings Eleanor had slept with her bedroom windows open
.  This evening, ho
wever, she awoke shivering.  Slipp
ing
out of bed
, she
padded over to th
e windows, noting from the
timepiece on the mantel that it was a little after two o
’
clock.  She secured the
window
catches
, but left the shutters open
.

She had just climbed back into bed, when the sound of shuffling outside her door caught her attention.  He
r heart skipp
ed a beat.  Convincing herself that it was probably mice, she closed her eyes tightly again and began furiously counting sheep. 
A minute later, there
was a low moaning sound which could definitely not, however vivid one’s imagination, be attributed to a
ny
rodent. 

Eleanor sat bolt upright, her heart pounding wildly against her ribcage.
The sound was ominous and ghostly: exactly the sound one would associate with the Wailing
Whitlock
Widow.
But it could not be a ghost, she reminded herself. 
Ghosts did not exist. 
S
he
tip-toed
to the door.  Taking a deep breath
in
, she
yanked it
open and stepp
ed
out into the corridor.  There was nothing out of the ordinary to be seen
.  Nothing, that is,
other than a grey-white chiffon scarf caught on the arm of a suit of armour
,
blowing in the draught of the cold corridor. 

TWELVE

‘
Goodness
,
miss,
’
puff
ed Milly as she arranged Eleanor’s
hair for the Stanningtons’ picnic
,
‘
I ain’t never seen you looking so miserable.  What I woul
dn’t give to go to some lovely
picnic and there’s you looking like you’ve just lost a leg and
ha
ve crawled home only to
find
some b
eggar
’s
shot your dog.
’

Eleanor couldn’t resist a smile at Milly’s bleak scenario. 
‘
Sorry, Milly
. 
I will try and cheer up.
’

But the truth was
that she couldn’t think of
one
thing about the day looming ominously ahead of her that would cheer her up.  She had not the slightest inclination to go to the Stanningtons’ picnic.  Feigning some sort of debilitating illness had briefly crossed her mind, but it would have been pointless
.  N
othing short of death would prevent the
d
owager
from present
ing her goddaughter to Viscount Grayson
. 
The notion
of spending even a minute in the presence of the l
eering man filled her with dread.  But
there was one other person Eleanor had no desire
to see.  One
who would certainly be attending the event
: 
Felicity Carmichael.  Whilst the thought
of
the v
iscount was unpleasant enough, the thought of
F
elicity caused Eleanor’s stomach to churn uncontrollably.

A
fter a hesitant start
, the sun
eventually broke
through the
wispy cloud, resulting in a
glorious summer
’s
day
–
perfect
for a picnic
.  Eleanor was
g
rateful to Milly
for insisting
she wore her jonquil muslin
; t
he girl
appeared
to have
a
sixth sense regarding
the
weather.

What Eleanor had failed to sense
, however,
was that
, as well as the v
iscount and Felicity
Carmichael
, another of her least favourite people
would be
attending the picnic.  As she climb
ed
into the
carriage, she was amazed to find
Derek Lovell
already seated within, opposite James and Madeleine.  She would have thought a
picnic far too tame for his tastes
, but then again,
with
no funds to indulge his gambling,
perhaps he was
temper
ing
his amusements. 
M
adeleine,
most likely
in an attempt not to have to look at the man, had turned in her seat
to
gaze
out of the window. 

‘
Ah,
’
he exclaimed
sarcastically as Eleanor settled herself on the
s
eat next to him,
‘
t
he lovely Lady Eleanor.
’

Eleanor
tossed
him a frosty glare.  Neither Madeleine nor James, who was
e
ngrossed in a study of his fingernails, paid her any attention at all. 

As the carriage
rattled
down the gravelled drive, it was M
adeleine who broke the silence.

‘
Do you know, James,
I am sure I had a visit from the Whitlock Widow
last night
.
’

Eleanor’s heart stop
ped for a moment.  James, though
, was less impressed
. 
‘
Don’t be ridi
culous, Madeleine. 
You know I pay no attention to such nonsense.
’

‘
But it is not nonsense
,
’
asserted Madeleine. 
‘
I have a gift regarding the spirits.  Wherever I go
,
they seek me out.
’

‘
Do they now
?
’
sneered Lovell. 
‘
And what do they do when they find you, Lady Madeleine?
’

‘
I
was not aware
that
you were included in this conversation, Mr Lovell,
’
snappe
d Madeleine.  Surprisingly, she then turn
ed
her attention to Eleanor. 
‘
May I ask if you believe in ghosts, Lady Eleanor?
’

A
shiver shot down Eleanor’s sp
ine as an image of the
piece of
grey-white chiffon blowing eerily in the drau
ghty corridor
, flashed
before her
.  She had been re
lieved when she had
opened her bedchamber door that morning to find the offending item had disappeared.
‘
I
,
er
,
confess
I have not
given the matter
much consideration, ma’am,
’
she muttered.

Madeleine tutted. 
‘
Well, may I suggest you do, Lady Eleanor, particularly when one is residing in a b
uilding such as Whitlock.  T
he place is crawling with spirits.
’

At this statement,
Eleanor had the strange sensation of something crawling over
her skin
. 

‘
I must confess,
’
continue
d
Madeleine
wistfully
,
‘
that I thought the Widow
quite beautiful.  One can
imagine her the day she threw herself from the tower – he
r long black hair streaming
behind her as she fell to her death in the same white chiffon nightdress she wore on h
er wedding night. 
I can think of nothing more romantic.
’

For one brief moment, Eleanor th
ought she was about to have a fit of the vapours
until
Derek Lovell piped up,
‘
Well at least the chit had the pleasure of her wedding night.  Can you imagine how upset she would have been if she’d been denied that treat?
Not that you,
Lady Eleanor, will have the slightest idea of the pl
easures to which I am referring,
’
he sniggered. 

‘
Leave her alone, Lovell,
’
commanded James.
  His authoritative tone discouraged any argument.
 

They travelled in silence for some ten minutes, Eleanor pondering the ghostly happenings
,
James pondering his fingernails and a
n obviously
slighted
M
adeleine pondering James’s fervent
protection
of
Eleanor.  

‘
Oh my goodness!
’
the Hungarian suddenly cried
, clutching a hand to her left breast
. 
‘
Stop the carriage immediately!
’

‘
Good God.  What is it, Madeleine?
’
demand
ed James anxiously.
‘
Have you taken ill?
’

Madeleine gazed up at h
im with her ravishing blue eyes. 
‘
I am not
ill,
’
she bleated,
wringing her hands.  ‘But
I do not feel very fine, James.
In fact I feel quite … quite …
ugly
.  I
should like to
return to Whitlock so that I may change my gown.
’

Eleanor rolled her eyes.  If Madeleine did not look fine in her
lovely
high-waisted gown of soft apricot, then there was little hope for anyone else.  The woman was, as usual, playing one of her attention-seeking games.

‘
Come now, Madeleine,
’
chide
d James, his tone ripe with impatience. 
‘
You look beautiful
,
as well you know.
’

Her large blue eyes conveniently filled with tears. 
‘
But I do not
feel
beautiful
, James. 
And I want to feel beautiful - for you, my darling.  It would not do at all for you to turn up at such a
n
affair with an ugly woman.
’

‘
For God’s sake, Madeleine,
’
snapped James, frustration colouring his features
.
‘
I am telling you, you look beautiful.  You always look beautiful.
’

T
aken aback at James’s abrupt
ness
, but obviously having achieved the reaction
she was seeking, Madeleine beamed victoriously at
Eleanor and
,
with a toss of her blonde head,
resumed her gazing out
of the window.  Eleanor felt a stab of
something
she had never before experienced
.  Something
she had a strong suspicion was that disturbing emotion known as jealousy.  Indeed, it
was all she could do
not to reach across and slap Madeleine’s smug face. 

For all Lady Ormiston was not one of
her favourite people, Eleanor
wish
ed
the old
lady
was accompanying them in the carriage t
hat morning,
instead of travelling ahead
.
Had the dowager
been present, Eleanor doubt
ed
they would
have been
subjected to
Derek Lovell’s gutter monologue on his conquests with the fairer sex.

‘
Do you really think, Mr Lovell,
’
Madeleine e
nquired icily,
‘
that
we are
remotely interested in your alleged conquests?
’

‘
Ooh.
Do I detect a hint of
jealousy
, Lady Madeleine?
’

Madeleine
fixed him with an ingenuous smile. 
‘
Alas no
, sir
. 
You are
obviously
confusing jealousy with sympathy. 
One
can only hope that the vast amounts of money you
pai
d these poor girls
eased their suffering in some way.
’

Lovell
snort
ed with
laughter. 
‘
I can assure you
that not one of the
women
was paid for the pleasure.
’

Madeleine lift
ed a suspicious eyebrow. 
‘
Really?
 
Then I do
hope you returned them safely to the institution from which they came.
’

Lovell opened his m
outh to reply but, before he could
utter a word, James cut in. 

‘
That’s enough, you two,
’
he
snapped
-
so
vehement
ly that
the pair immediat
ely shut up
. 

Eleanor
breathed
a sigh of relief.  But t
he peace lasted only
a few minutes
, until James lost himself in his thoughts
again
and
Derek
Lovell
began
another
of his ‘
interesting
’
stories
.  Eleanor was not fooled. 
The
man was
obviously
doing his utmost to embarrass her and Madele
ine.  Refusing to permit him
the slightest hint of how uncomfortable his detailed descriptions were making her, she adopted a nonchalant air
, s
taring out of the window.