The Unaccomplished Lady Eleanor (33 page)

Upon finding a dishevelled Felicity alone with James, the
two ladies
could not conceal their horror
.  The conclusion to which
they immediately jumped, was writt
en all over their rouged faces.  It was the Duke of Swinton
,
however, who spoke first. 

‘
Miss Carmichael,
’
he began, in a tone that
gave little doubt that he was of the same opinion as the two tabbies,
‘
what on ea
rth has happened?  I hope
this man has not been
forcing his attentions upon you.
’

James’s expression grew dark. 
‘
I can assure, sir,
that nothing at all has happened to her.
’

The two women gawped disbelievingly at
James.  The Duke of Swinton narrowed his eyes. 
‘
Well
, it
certainly does not look like that to me,
sir
. 
The girl
is obviously distressed.
’

All eyes turned to Felicity who was pressing a hand to her forehead. 
‘
Oh, forgive me,
’
she fluttered. 
‘
I didn’t know … that is … I didn’t understand w
hen he said that he wanted to …
Oh,
’
she
rasped,
‘
I have been such a silly innocent.  
I believe
I feel quite
faint.  Would you assist me, your grace,
in seeking out my mama?  I think it best, given what has …
occurred
,
’
she
glanced accusingly
at James,
‘
that I return home immediately.
’

All three new arrivals were now eyeing James suspiciously.  Lydia Armstrong had produced a lace handkerchief, which she was holding to her mouth. 

‘
Hmm,’ muttered the duke, scratching his head as if wondering how to proceed with matters.  ‘
I think that a wis
e idea, madam.’

Felicity affected
a grateful smile, which encompassed all three of her rescuers, before waltzing victoriously out of the room on the Duke of Swinton’s arm. 

Lady Illingsworth
and
Lady Armstrong continued to stare
at an astonished James for what seemed like an eternity, before both wheeling around and
taking their leave.  It seemed
to Eleanor
another ete
rnity before James left the room
and she cou
ld slip out of her hiding place
and sink into one of the room’s armchairs
,
attempting to make some sense of the incredible scene she had just witnessed. 

SIXTEEN

When
Eleanor eventually returned to the supper
-
room,
she found
James
already there. 
Despite his furious expression,
Madeleine
, who was standing
alongside
him,
appeared not to have noticed anything untoward
.  Obviously doing her best
to incite a reaction from him
,
she
was waxing
lyrical on
what a fascinating character she
considered
Viscount Grayson
to be.  Eleanor was only grateful that the
viscount
, her godmother and indeed Felicity Carmic
hael were no
where to be seen.  What was very much in evidence
, though
, was th
e work of the
gossipmongers.  Lady Armstrong and Lady
Illingsworth
, one ei
ther side of the room, had
each
gathered around them a gaggle of
middle-aged
matrons
.  F
rom the gasps and glances emanating from the two groups,
they
were obviously
freely
embellishing
details of the scene they had just witnessed.  The Duke of Swinton,
meanwhile, looking deadly earnest
,
was deep in conversation with his wife
.  A
sweep of horror crept over the d
uchess’s features as her eyes
flitted back and forth from her husband to
James.  Eleanor
observ
ed
a muscle ticking in
James’s
jaw as he, too, observed, the
happen
ings.
 

Madeleine
suddenly
whipped open her f
an and began fluttering it furi
ously.
‘
I am in need of some air, James
. 
Will you join me in a stro
ll around the garden
?  Or
perha
ps,
’
she
added coyly
,
‘
I should ask the v
iscount
.
’

James heaved a weary
sigh
and raked his fingers through his hair
. 
‘
There
is no nee
d for that, Madeleine. 
I
feel in dire
need of some fresh air myself.
’

Madeleine’s beautiful face glowed with
victory. 
‘
Oh, how splendid,
’
she
coo
ed,
tossin
g Eleanor another of her triumphant smiles
.
‘
I wi
ll
fix my hair
a little
,
t
hen I shall meet you beside the fountain.
’
  She tossed
him a knowing look before whisking away in a wh
irl of emerald satin, leaving James
and Eleanor alone. 
Eleanor’s head was spinning.  She had no idea what she should do. 
James was
obviously
aware of the questioning looks
being shot
in his direction and of the gossip
wafting around the room
with every flutter of the ladies’ fans
.  She could put an end to it all by revealing what s
he had witnessed.
But
, given that Felicity would deny everything,
would anyone believe her
?  Perhaps then, she should
inform James that she knew of the girl’s scheming
.  But how
would he react?  Would he think she was meddling?  Following him around?  Stalking him even? 

‘
Would you care to accompany Lady Madeleine and myself in a stroll around the garden, Lady Eleanor?
’
James suddenly a
sked
.  ‘
If you don’t mind me say
ing so, you are looking a little
peaked.
’

Elea
nor’s mind ground to a
halt.  She opened her mouth hoping that
some meaningful semblance
words would emanate from it.  It didn’t. 

James tugged at the sleeves of his coat. 
‘
Come along,
’
he
said impatiently
,
already
striding o
ver
to the
open
French windows. 
‘
The a
tmosphere in this room
is stifling
.
’

At a loss as to what else to do, Eleanor trotted
meekly
after him.  Quite what Madeleine’s reaction to her tagging along would be, she did not
d
are
imagine.

To her surprise James had obviously managed to curb his impatience somewhat and was waiting for her just outside the doors.  They walked together in silence along the g
ravelled path that ran around
the house.

‘
I say, Prestonville, you couldn’t come and settle a wager for us could you?
’

Eleanor and James
stopped abruptly and
spun around to find a group of men
,
which included
Smithers
– the
drunken oaf who had attempted to kiss her
at the Carmichaels’ ball – sitting around a garden table
. 

‘
Come on, Prestonville,
’
they all jeered.
‘
It won’t take
a minute.
’

James closed his eyes for a moment, as if counting to ten. 
‘
Excuse me for a moment, Lady Eleanor,
’
he muttere
d through clenched teeth. 

Eleanor gave
a brief nod, before he strode
off towards
the men.  Having no desire to
be within a mile of the
hideous
Smithers, she carried on following the path around the
enormous h
ouse.  As she turned a corner, she
found that none of the lanterns on that side of the house
appeared
to be
lit and she could barely see where she w
as walking. 
She could hear the fountain, though, and therefore assumed she had only a little further to walk before she would be in a much better illuminated part of the garden.  She had only taken a few steps, however, when she found that the ground was no longer beneath her.  She had stepped out into
thin air. 
And s
he was falling. 
A dozen thoughts skittered through her mind – not least that these might be her last living moments. 
But then,
out of the blue
,
two s
trong arms ca
ught her
as easily as if she weighed nothing more than a feather.  Looking up,
Eleanor
found herself gazing into the
f
ace of a man who loo
ked exactly like the Illingsworth
s’ butler. 

‘
Lord
, miss,
’
he
p
uffe
d
,
‘
you’s lucky I were ’
ere
.  Dread to think what state you’d be in otherwise.
’

Eleanor gla
nced down at the floor where a
picka
xe was embedded, point up,
directly below the trap door.

An
ice-cold shiver
shot
down her spine. 

La
dy Ormiston, unable
to conceal her
impat
ience with Eleanor’s
calamitous
exploits, had
been
more concerned with
the embarrassment
the
incident
might have caused
the
ir hosts, rather than
the
narrowly avoided skewering of
her goddaughter. 

‘
My dear girl,
’
she had chided,
‘
you really
must
learn to look where you are go
ing.
I dare not even
think
of the embarrassment you would have caused Lord and Lady
Illingsworth
if something …
dreadful
had happened to you.
’

Eleanor, weak with relief, had wanted to reply that causing
e
mbarrassment to their hosts
was the last thing on her mind.  She was so overcome with the thought
of
the fate that might have befallen
her,
that she had been robbed of her ability to speak for some thirty minutes afterwards.  Mr Stanley Mortimer, the hero of the hour, and the butler’s younger brother, had
spotted the open door
only
minutes
before the incident
and had ‘nipped down’ to make sure all was in order.   Having
completed
a rapid search
of the cellar
,
Mr Mortimer had informed that
he
had
found nothing
to arouse suspicion other than the
position of the
pickaxe, which was generally kept in a garden shed.   

Milly
, however,
had her own view on the incident. 
‘
I
f I didn’t know better, miss,
’
she’d remarked solemnly
,
as she’d prepared Eleanor for bed that evening
,
‘
I’d think someone were trying to do away with you.
  I
t ain’t normal all these so-called accidents happening every time you go out.
’

Having immediately dismissed
Milly’s
theory as absurd,
the girl’s
words had continued to play on Eleanor’s mind
.  At two o’
clock, in the dead of the night, she
allowed
the
m
serious cons
ideration
and concluded that Milly may well be correct
.  What she failed to comprehend, though, was why anyone would want to kill her.  She was
just an ordinary girl of no significance whatsoever and, as far as she was aware, there was no one who would benefit from her death. 

She was still de
liberating the matter a half
hour later, when she heard
footsteps on
the stone f
loor of the corridor. 
Her blood ran cold.  Was she about to receive another visit
from the Wailing
Whitlock
Widow
?   But it didn’t take her long to realize t
hat the
re was nothing ghostly about these footsteps.  She r
an
quietly
to the door and
pressed
her eye to the keyhole just in ti
me to see a man, wearing a
blue brocade dressing gow
n, march by
.  Eleanor’s stomach lurched,
causing her to fall
back on to the floor.  There was only one reason James Prestonville would be visiting Lady Madeleine’s room at this hour of the morning
.  And that
reason made her
feel decidedly
nauseous.

By breakfast time, Eleanor had
had no
sleep and had
worked
herself up into the foulest of humours. 
D
ownstairs, she found, to her
vexation
, James and
Madeleine already
at the breakfast table.  Had they dared to come down together
?
  Surely even Madeleine wouldn’t be that brazen.  Beneath lowered lashes, Eleanor studied th
em
as she slipped into her seat.  The di
fference
between their two appearances could not have been greater: while Madeleine
looke
d
as fresh as a daisy in an apple-green morning dress, James’s countenance was one of pure ex
haustion.  Eleanor had sympathiz
ed with his plight the evening before
but n
ow
she
was
devoid of any compassion
at all
for the man. 
Evidently he was
not sufficiently concerned about Felicity Carmichael’s threats to be distracted from other
recreational pursuits
.  In no mood for pleasantries, she merely grunted in reply to the pair’s greetings
and shook out her napkin.