Frank did not immediately have the opportunity to speak privately to his cousin the following morning, and he strongly suspected that she was avoiding him. Still Frank was determined to talk to her sooner or later; to discover what Skelling had told her about the incident at Lady Weston's ball, and to make it clear to Serena that she was not going to win anything by spreading malicious gossip about Eleanor. He was determined to defend Eleanor at all cost, and if this meant risking his relationship with his uncle's family which had never been all that good to start with so be it. He did not expect Eleanor to marry into a family that did not respect her. If there was anyone among his relations who disapproved of the match he was going to renounce them. It was not what he wished for, knowing that this course of action would cause quite a stir in Society, but Society could say whatever they liked about him; he could not care less. If Serena continued to avoid him this morning, Frank thought, he'd have no choice but employ the means Serena had successfully taken against him ever since they'd been children he'd have to speak to her father behind her back. Given the choice he had rather not resort to underhand methods, but if Serena forced him into it this was what she would get.
In the meantime he had to oblige his guests and time their sledding race in the garden as he had promised the day before. For once, even Frank's aunt consented to take part, if only to watch the race, and so the entire house party made their way to the race-track after breakfast. Shaw had outdone himself. He'd summoned several young men from the village and they'd not only cleared a path from the house to the hill but also prepared a perfect track for the race to be run on. Shaw was already there when they arrived, leaning his crutch and awaiting further orders. As always when Frank saw him, he was reminded of how close he'd come to losing his own leg. Had it not been for his friend Gilbert, who'd somehow got the best surgeon available to take care of his injury and held the would-be-sawbones at bay until he'd arrived, Frank, too, would be hobbling around on a crutch by now. As it was, he still had his leg and the hope that at one point in the future he'd be able to use it as he'd done before he'd been hit. But he considered Shaw a model of what he should do come to terms with his injury even though it still incapacitated him, and get on with his life. He'd been luckier than Shaw however, by inheriting his uncle's fortune at a time when he'd needed it most. It was easier to cope with being disabled knowing that he had a comfortable fortune to live on whether he fully recovered or not.
"Well done, Shaw," Frank said to him. "You should go back to the lodge now, and sit down by the fire. We don't want you to catch a cold!"
"I won't, sir," Shaw replied.
"Still, you've earned some rest," Frank said. "You've been working hard all night I guess."
"It was the lads from the village that did most of the work. I just made sure they didn't dawdle, sir," Shaw said, grinning.
"I'm sure you are good at that," Frank said, handing his gatekeeper a guinea piece. "I can recognise drill sergeant material when I see it."
"Ah sir, who knows what might have been if it hadn't been for the Frenchies," Shaw replied, touched his forelock and left.
Frank's mother, his aunt, Lady Gilbert and Mrs Swinford took their seats alongside the race track Shaw's brigade had built a kind of bench for them out of snow, and covered it with rugs and pillows to make the seat as comfortable as one made of snow could possibly be. The gentlemen not taking part in the race stayed with their wives, while everyone else gathered at the bottom of the race-track. Frank's cousins Elizabeth and Serena, although not taking part either, were with them. Elizabeth was doing her utmost to ingratiate herself with Simon Gilbert, but while Gilbert was too polite to ignore her completely his behaviour was not at all encouraging. Serena glared at Frank as he approached their group, and then turned away in so pointed a manner that Frank had to suppress a grin. Her conduct reminded him of a petulant child, which was highly amusing considering how much store she usually set by ladylike behaviour.
He was happy to see that Eleanor, far from feeling awkward in his company, welcomed him with a smile. Frank had wondered how things would continue between them now that she'd confided in him he'd worried that she would regret having told him about Skelling's assault. Luckily she did not appear to regret it; on the contrary she acted like someone who'd had a huge weight taken off her shoulders. In a way that was true. The worst had happened Frank knew what had happened at Lady Weston's ball and it turned out to be not as bad as Eleanor had feared. Frank was no nearer to marrying her, he knew there were those scruples of hers he had to deal with first, and Skelling, too. But at least Eleanor was feeling better now that she had told him; this had to count for something; and she had told him that she still loved him. That piece of knowledge would keep him going whenever he became frustrated with his situation again, he knew.
There was some argument going on among the contestants, for Powell had jokingly remarked that quite a few of them were related in some way to the ladies on the sleds, a remark which had led to a discussion as to how to make the race fair for everyone.
"This is complete nonsense, of course," Eleanor said to Frank, smiling. "No one in their right mind can imagine I'd make myself heavier or lighter, depending on whether it is my brother or cousin pulling the sled or somebody else."
Frank laughed. "No; but there might be some way to obstruct them nevertheless. Never mind, they will come up with some rules to make sure you cannot. Edenthorpe is good at these things."
"I shall depend on Mr Edenthorpe's resourcefulness then."
"Do not corrupt our judges, Eleanor!" Miss Gilbert joined them.
"By simply talking to them, Miss Gilbert?" Frank asked in mock horror. "I put my price rather higher than that."
Eleanor blushed slightly and developed a sudden interest in the tips of her half-boots. She certainly studied them very closely; but there was a hint of a smile, Frank was glad to notice.
"Besides, all the gentlemen taking part are good friends of mine, and I would by no means deprive any of them of his chance to win," Frank added. "I'll adhere strictly to the rules, Miss Gilbert."
As the race started, Frank's cousins Elizabeth and Serena returned to their mother and took their seat on the bench, while Frank took his watch out of his pocket and handed it to Mrs Gilbert.
"Will you time the race, ma'am? I'll write down the results," he said. Mrs Gilbert nodded, and the race began.
"Eleanor seems to be much more at ease now than she was yesterday," Mrs Gilbert remarked as she watched Walter Swinford pull his laughing sister up the hill. "She even appears to be enjoying herself!"
"I am glad," Frank replied. "It was painful to watch how unhappy she has been."
"True. Although I sometimes suspected that it was fear rather than sadness."
"It may have been," Frank conceded.
"I have always hoped that you would be the one to make her happy again. She speaks of you with so much affection; it was only a question of time until you did." She smiled. "And a question of opportunity, I guess."
"Do you know what she is afraid of, and why?" Frank asked. It would be good to have someone with whom to discuss Eleanor's predicament without having to betray her confidence; and her good sense would enable Mrs Gilbert to advise him in the matter. Her advice would be sound, too.
"She did not confide in me, I am afraid," Mrs Gilbert replied apologetically. Another hope crushed then, Frank thought.
As he had expected, Edenthorpe won the race, with Powell as a close second and Ben Gilbert coming in third. They walked back to the house to celebrate this outcome, and Frank's mother came up to him while he was waiting for his guests to enter the house ahead of him.
"Are you making progress?" she wanted to know, with a glance at Eleanor.
"I'm not sure," Frank said cautiously. "I might."
"She is a lovely girl, Frank. I am very fond of her," Mrs Morrison whispered.
"That's excellent news, but I'm still not sure if she'll have me."
"She will. I have seen the glow in her eyes whenever she looks at you," Frank's mother reassured him.
"There's more to it than that," Frank replied. There was no time for any further confidences, but Frank decided to visit his mother in her dressing room that evening. He was not going to tell her exactly what had happened to Eleanor, but enough to convince her that she need not start planning his wedding just yet. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to go about getting rid of Skelling, and it did not look as if he was going to hit on some way or other in the near future.
Luck would have it that Frank found his cousin Serena alone in the drawing room when he came downstairs before dinner. It would not be long before the rest of the house party descended on them, but Frank viewed that fact as an advantage. Serena would refrain from making a scene, knowing that they were going to have company soon. There was a touch of hostility in her attitude, Frank noticed, but since this was far more like her usual behaviour towards him than her recent attempts at friendliness he did not mind at all. In a way he was even glad to have things as they had always been.
Deciding not to waste valuable time by beating about the bush, Frank said, "I am glad to find you here already, cousin. I believe there is something we need to talk about."
"I do not know what you mean," Serena replied stiffly.
"Come, come; this is not like you!" Frank said. "After the way you have treated Miss Swinford ever since she arrived here you cannot believe that I have not noticed! It is quite obvious that you hate her, and I want to know what makes you behave in such a deplorable manner to one who I am sure has never done you any harm."
"You have joined the ranks of her protectors, I see."
"I consider it one of my duties as a host to make sure none of my guests insults another," Frank said. "You may think of Miss Swinford whatever you like, but I shall not tolerate your aggressive conduct any longer. If you cannot stay under the same roof with Miss Swinford without taking every opportunity to offend her you will have to go."
"I shall have to go while that that " Serena was apparently struggling to find an appropriate word to describe Eleanor. "That woman can stay?"
"Be careful what you say," Frank said, in a tone that would have sent any of the men in his company running for cover, or at least made them wish themselves far away. Sensing the danger, Serena reasoned, "After what I have seen her do you can hardly expect me to treat her like a respectable young lady."
"I expect you to treat every guest in my house with proper civility, Serena; respectable or not. Besides, did it ever occur to you that Miss Swinford may not have been entirely to blame for what happened at Lady Weston's ball? That it was a lucky coincidence that led you to the spot? That it was your arrival that prevented worse things from happening? No; you need not answer me. I know the idea did not occur to you, or you'd have pitied Miss Swinford rather than hated her. You'd have tried to help her, and not added to her pain and humiliation afterwards. Skelling found himself a willing tool, didn't he? What did he tell you?"
"He told me that Miss Swinford had been very eager to receive his caresses and had only struggled in his arms when she realised they were going to be caught."
"And you believed his tale?"
"I saw no reason for disbelieving it."
"You are forgetting the evidence of what happened the next day, Serena. If Miss Swinford had enjoyed Skelling's embrace as much as he wanted you to believe, what made her refuse him when he offered for her? Why did she not jump at the chance to become his wife?"
The sound of laughter in the hallway heralded the arrival of Miss Gilbert and her brothers. Frank only had the time to say, "Give the matter some thought, Serena. And remember, one more of your spells of malice and you will leave this house."
Serena appeared to heed Frank's warning; at least she behaved in an exemplary fashion that evening. She was not friendly with Eleanor that would have been too much to ask, Frank knew but she chose to ignore her and leave her in peace. If this state of affairs continued, Frank thought, he would be well satisfied with the outcome of his conversation with his cousin. He feared, however, that Serena's spell of polite behaviour would be short-lived.
After dinner, they settled down in the drawing room and while the older generation chose to entertain themselves with whist and chess, the younger set preferred to play a noisy game of lottery tickets. Again, Frank noticed that Eleanor's reserve towards him had almost gone, and that for the first time since her arrival at Hanley Park she truly appeared to enjoy herself. She even responded in kind to some light-hearted jokes one of her cousins made, and seemed content to be on the receiving end of Frank's flirtatious remarks. Things boded well, if only Serena did not decide to put an end to his happiness.
Before retiring to her room, Frank's mother requested him to pay her a visit in her dressing-room in half an hour, a wish he was even happier to grant because it coincided with his own. However, before he could do so his uncle demanded speech with him, too, and remained with him in the drawing-room for that purpose while the other gentlemen went to the library to round the evening off with a glass of brandy or two.
"How can I serve you, sir?" Frank asked politely.
"I want to know your intentions." Frank's uncle said brusquely.
"My intentions regarding what, sir?" Frank asked.
"Don't act like a dunce, Francis. What do you think I am talking about?"
"There are several possibilities. You might wish to know if and when I am planning to return to Spain; or you might be curious what I am going to do with this property of mine now that you have become acquainted with it."
"I was talking about your cousin Serena."
"I am sorry, sir, but what makes you think I have any intentions regarding her?" Frank asked. Apart from strangling her if she continued to harass Eleanor, he silently added.
"Why else have you invited us to stay here, if not to show us your property and establish yourself as a suitable marriage candidate?"
"I was of the opinion mistakenly, as it turns out that you might be happy for me, and wanted you to share my happiness," Frank said. "Serena has never shown a decided preference for my company, and to be honest I was grateful for that circumstance. I do hope she will make a good match, and I do not doubt that she will, but as for marrying her myself no, sir, the thought has never crossed my mind."
"Serena has come here expecting you to offer for her," his uncle cried, his temper rising.
"Indeed? I am sorry to hear it. If she has such expectations, I was not the one who can have caused them. On the contrary; I have been at pains not to rouse any expectations in her. If she has any, they must have their roots elsewhere."
"In other words you are not going to marry Serena."
"No, sir, I am not, and have never even considered it. I hope you will not take offence at my telling you that my preference lies with someone else."
"I have become aware of some flirtation existing between you and Miss Swinford," Frank's uncle said. "You will listen to the advice of one who is older and more experienced than you; and who stands in the place of your father. Miss Swinford is a flirt and a jilt. I would not waste another moment on her if I was you. She will disappoint you just as she disappointed her other suitors. She has had plenty, I have been told; yet she has married none of them."
"Thank you for your concern, sir, but let me remind you that I am old enough to make my own decisions and that my personal life is none of your business," Frank replied. "Will that be all? Only I will have to go upstairs and speak to my mother; she has made a point of seeing me before she goes to bed."
"No more midnight assignations in the library?" his uncle asked maliciously. So Serena had been before him. It was probably she who'd set his uncle on him, as she'd always done. Or she'd told her mama, who'd made her husband interfere. His aunt was quite capable of that, Frank knew.
"Who knows? If you stay up for long enough you may even witness them," Frank replied, smiling. "Though you might find them quite unexciting I believe. Nothing could be more unexceptionable than my behaviour towards my guests. Male or female."
"Since you have no wish to marry your cousin, we will leave this place as soon as the roads are passable," his uncle announced.
"I am sorry to hear it, and hope you will reconsider your decision," Frank answered. "Do stay until Christmas at least. As far as I know one of our neighbours is planning a dance on Christmas Eve; it will be a treat for my cousins. Let us behave like the happy family that our neighbours think us, sir it will not do to disappoint them."
Frank knew that What The Neighbours Thought was of utmost importance to his uncle he might be angry with Frank for not bestowing his hand and fortune on his eldest cousin, but he was not going to tolerate becoming the subject of local gossip. It was therefore not surprising that Mr Morrison relented almost immediately.
"I suppose it would be unjust to deprive your cousins of their Christmas festivities," he said stiffly.
"I quite agree, sir," Frank said, smiling politely. "Not to speak of my mother, who would be severely disappointed to lose my aunt's company so soon. Only the other day she told me how glad she was to have an opportunity to get to know her better them having met so rarely before."
Reddening, Frank's uncle rose from his chair and, without another word, repaired to the library. It was obvious that he did not relish Frank's allusion to his family's past indifference to their poor relatives. But some things just had to be said, Frank thought. Or hinted at, at the very least, to show his uncle that he was not quite as stupid as he looked.
Frank's mother was sitting by the fire in her dressing-room, wearing her nightcap and dressing gown. She had been reading her brother's diary to pass the time, but now she shut the book and put it aside.
"What kept you?" she asked, and, without waiting for Frank's reply, invited him to sit down in the chair opposite hers.
"My uncle. He wished to know my intentions regarding Serena."
"Oh? I was not aware you had any."
"Neither was I, but my uncle and aunt disagree. I set him right, however. It may have given him a distaste of our company, but I have managed to persuade him to stay until Christmas."
"That's good. They are family, after all," Mrs Morrison observed. "But let us not talk about them. I have observed you with Miss Swinford tonight are you making progress?"
"Not as much as I would have hoped," Frank said. "The good news is that she does feel some affection for me. She told me so. But for some reasons I must keep to myself she feels she cannot marry me."
"Foolish notions, I daresay."
"Not at all. They do not weigh with me, but I can see how they must weigh with her. I'll just have to convince her, and I am not entirely without hope of achieving it."
"I am glad to hear it. If you need help, let me know." Mrs Morrison smiled. "I have missed sitting and chatting with you in private for a while."
"We should do so more often," Frank agreed, and nodded at the collection of his uncle's diaries sitting on his mother's dressing table. "How are you getting on with those?"
"I find them highly interesting and surprising even. I never knew that Lady Skelling bore him a son!"
Frank jumped. "What did you just say?"
"That Lady oh dear, now I have told you her name even though I was determined not to! Well, the scandal was all over Town at the time, and there are plenty of people around who know all about it. It was foolish of me to think I could keep it secret."
"And you say she and Uncle Peter had a son?" Frank asked.
"They might have had she appears to have thought the child was his. She wrote him a letter, entreating him to take her abroad for her husband would kill her if he discovered that she was carrying another man's child. But she was a married woman; the baby might have been her husband's for all we know."
"I'd say if anyone was in the position to know the truth Lady Skelling was that person," Frank said dryly. "And her husband, possibly. It was this letter of hers that made my uncle try to elope with her, I gather."
"Oh yes, and if that was the reason I do not blame him for attempting it. Not much. He may have had some idea of doing the right thing by her and the child."
"How, with her still married to Skelling?" Frank asked. "He must have known it to be impossible."
"Not if Skelling got a divorce," Frank's mother pointed out. "It is not at all what I would have wished for my brother at that time, and can you imagine what your poor papa would have had to say to the matter? My brother marrying a a ruined woman?"
Frank laughed. "The shock would have killed him," he said. "But did the child survive?"
"Oh yes, and what's more Skelling accepted him as his own. It's a good thing he did, for Lady Skelling never had any other children."
"Are you telling me that the present Lord Skelling is or might be my uncle's illegitimate son?" Frank asked.
"I'd say the evidence points in that direction," Mrs Morrison said. "Your uncle appears to have thought so; he often refers to his son in his diaries."
"It is strange that he did not leave his fortune to Skelling then, if he was convinced he was his son," Frank remarked.
"And cause another scandal after all those years? I do not think so."
"There is that, of course," Frank reflected. "That explains why he wanted to come back to England to meet the man whom he thought to be his son."
"It is not impossible. I wish he'd had the chance of meeting him," Frank's mother admitted.
"He would have been severely disappointed in the fellow," Frank said darkly. "It is a good thing they never met. Skelling is a blackguard."
"Then he does not take after his father," Mrs Morrison said. "For Peter was not."
There were quite a few people, Frank thought, who would disagree with that notion. He did not say so to his mother, however.
"I take it that young Skelling's uncertain parentage is not generally known," he said instead.
"Oh no, not even I knew! Peter must have been aware that once their plans for an elopement had been foiled it would be better for him to remain quiet about the matter; and Lady Skelling certainly told no one. She was not as foolish as that!"
"True. Do you happen to know if Lady Skelling is still alive?"
"I seem to remember reading the announcement of her death in the papers a couple of years ago, but I am not certain."
"My aunt will know, surely," Frank said. "She and my cousins are acquainted with Skelling; if his mother is still alive they must have met her. By the way, why did you want to speak to me in the first place?"
"Oh, I just wanted to discuss Mrs Chalmers' Christmas ball with you," his mother said and with that, for the time being, they let the matter rest. But Frank was determined to find out if Lady Skelling was still alive. If she was, her love affair with Frank's uncle and her subsequent pregnancy was not going to help Frank at all. He was not villain enough to threaten a lady with public humiliation. It would put him on the same level with young Skelling, and he was not going to use the same methods as he.
If Lady Skelling was dead and gone, however, the only person likely to suffer from a scandal was her son. In that case, Frank felt no compunction about using the information against him. He had obtained a means of making sure that Skelling kept quiet about the incident at Lady Weston's ball, and he was going to make use of it if he could.
Mrs Chalmers was one of Frank's new neighbours, and she had been quick to become acquainted with Frank's mother when she had moved to Hanley Park to prepare for Frank's house party. Frank did not entirely absolve the lady of ulterior motives for striking up a friendship with his mother Mrs Chalmers had two daughters of marriageable age, and even if his uncle had not suddenly discovered his affection for a nephew who'd recently inherited a fortune, Frank would have been well aware of what Mrs Chalmers hopes regarding this acquaintance must be. It was only natural that a mother did her best to promote an advantageous match for one of her daughters.
He had therefore been wary of accepting any invitations from the lady, but Mrs Chalmers was not the kind of woman to take no for an answer. Frank and his mother had not been able to escape dining in Mrs Chalmers' house twice since Frank's arrival, and to be fair Frank had to admit that both the lady and her husband were kind, respectable people and that the Misses Chalmers were fairly pretty and very agreeable young ladies. If it had not been for Eleanor, Frank might even have been inclined to become better acquainted with the eldest Miss Chalmers, but as things were he had been careful not to raise any expectations in her. Luckily, Miss Chalmers had too much good sense to have any expectations regarding him, and while it was evident that she enjoyed his company she also made it quite obvious that this was as far as she wished their friendship to go, and Frank was happy to have things that way. But if Eleanor ever married him and moved to Hanley Park, he would be happy to encourage a friendship between her and Miss Chalmers. He rather thought that they would take to each other.
Still, Frank had been reluctant to attend Mrs Chalmers' Christmas ball. He had pointed out to her that his injuries had rendered him unable to dance, and that he was still supposed to be in mourning for his uncle. Mrs Chalmers had brushed his misgivings aside and told him that since he was not going to dance anyway his mourning state would not stand in his way.
"No one will blame you for attending, especially since you will be bringing your guests to the ball," she had said. "A good host is expected to take care of his guests' amusements, and I am sure you are not planning to confine them to Hanley Park. What an infamous thing that would be!"
There was no denying that, and since Frank could hardly host a ball in Hanley Park to amuse his guests, he gave in and promised to bring them to Vale House, the Chalmers' home, on Christmas Eve, provided the weather did not prevent them.
It did not. In fact it was a clear, fine evening cold, certainly, but most of the snow was gone and the roads were passable. The moon lit the way for them, and so they set out in two carriages to Vale House at the appointed time. Frank travelled with the Swinfords in their carriage, and, on their way to Mrs Chalmers' residence, told them what he knew of the family.
It turned out that Eleanor's father had known Mr Chalmers in his younger days; they had attended the same college in Oxford, although Mr Swinford was several years younger than Mr Chalmers and therefore could not claim a close acquaintance with him.
"If this is the Chalmers I met in Oxford, that is; but I believe he was a Kentish man."
"You will find out soon, sir," Frank said, smiling. "At all events he is a very pleasant man; a generous host and most respectable."
"What about his wife? What kind of person is she?" Mrs Swinford wanted to know.
"Perfectly agreeable," Frank replied. "As far as I have been able to discover she is well liked and highly respected in the neighbourhood, which is always a good sign."
"So it is," Mrs Swinford agreed. "Is it a large family?"
"There are five children, I believe three sons and two daughters. The sons are away at school and university though I daresay they may be home for Christmas now and that is why I have not met them yet. The daughters are very pretty, well-behaved girls; at least that was the impression I had on those few occasions I met them."
"How old are they?" Mrs Swinford wanted to know.
"I do not really know. Miss Chalmers must be about Miss Swinford's age, or maybe a year or two older. Miss Emily had her first season in London this year, so I guess she is about seventeen or eighteen."
"Are they very pretty?" Eleanor suddenly asked.
"Oh, quite," Frank said nonchalantly, smiling to himself. "The elder sister, especially."
While he was not planning to go out of his way to make Eleanor jealous, he welcomed that tiny sign of suspicion in her. Maybe, he thought, she had not yet given thought to the possibility of having a rival for his affections; that he might grow weary of being constantly rejected and seek consolation in another woman's arms. If she hadn't, it would do her good to consider that possibility for a while. It might make her realise the risk she was taking.
Arriving in Vale House, Frank noticed that Eleanor treated Miss Chalmers with more than her usual reserve and concluded that she did indeed feel threatened by his praise of her. Luckily he had already secured Eleanor's hand for the supper dance even though they were not going to dance but sit and talk instead and had the privilege of taking her in to supper. That, he hoped, would be enough to reassure her. Eleanor's eyes were on him, however, when he greeted the younger Miss Chalmers; and she only turned away when Frank said something that made Miss Emily laugh. He decided not to push his luck. While he was happy to find that Eleanor had it in her to be jealous he did by no means wish to cause her pain.
Since he did not take part in the dancing, Frank spent most of the evening in the card room, playing piquet with the gentlemen belonging to an older generation, or with those of his own generation unwilling to dance. While it was not what he would have chosen to do under usual circumstances, the time could not be said to be wasted. There were several among the card players who were acquainted with Lord Skelling, and by the time Frank emerged from the card room to seek out Eleanor he had discovered that Lady Skelling had indeed passed away and was not going to suffer if her past indiscretions were once more exposed to the public. Frank doubted that it would come to that Skelling had too much pride of his rank and consequence to tolerate any slur attached to his name. But one should never threaten a man with consequences one was reluctant to take, if necessary.
Frank found Eleanor sitting with her brother when he approached her. Walter quickly excused himself and went to ask Miss Emily Chalmers to dance with him, leaving Frank and Eleanor alone.
"Have you been enjoying yourself, Miss Swinford?" Frank asked, sitting down on Walter's chair.
"It is a very pleasant party," Eleanor said guardedly.
Frank chuckled. "But it does not please you," he stated.
"Oh, I am sure there is nothing to be said against it except "
"Except?"
"Except that I have found most gentlemen I stood up with dead bores," Eleanor admitted.
"That is unfortunate indeed. I wish we could join the set now I am particularly fond of the tune they are striking up at the moment but I am afraid it would cause us embarrassment if we did. One day, when this curst leg of mine is better, I hope to be able to dance with you again, and I am planning to make the most of the occasion then."
Eleanor looked at him, her eyes sparkling with delight. "You remember!" she whispered.
"How could I forget our first dance?" Frank asked her, taking her hand and holding it for a moment. "It is the one of my happiest memories."
"I thought I thought men never remembered such things," Eleanor said, blushing slightly.
"I cannot speak for other men," Frank laughed. "But I do remember what is important to me. Maybe not all the details I'd be hard put to describe the gown you wore that evening, or your jewellery but I could tell you word for word what we were talking about, and how you looked. I'd probably take longer describing all that than the dance actually lasted."
Eleanor smiled. "I I also have fond memories of that evening," she said.
"We should not dwell on them, though, but create fond memories for the future instead," Frank suggested, looking into her eyes. "And a great deal of gossip into the bargain. We are being watched."
"Oh?"
"Mrs Chalmers is keeping an eye on us it seems," Frank said, with a nod in the direction of their hostess.
"Do you think she will be offended if you spend so much time with me while you have none to spare for her daughters?" Eleanor asked. The Misses Chalmers were apparently still occupying her mind.
"No; she has too much good sense for that I think," Frank told her. "But I fear she'll have discovered how things stand between the two of us. By Boxing Day everyone in the village will know that Hanley Park will have a new mistress before long."
"Frank, I really wish you would not talk in that vein," Eleanor remonstrated. "You know it cannot be."
"I know nothing of the sort," Frank retorted. "But very well; if it makes you uncomfortable let us talk of something else. Where is your father planning to spend his time till spring?"
"We will return to my father's estate in Lincolnshire, I suppose. We always do at this time of year; in fact we would have spent the Christmas holidays there too, if it had not been for your invitation. Why do you want to know?"
"Guess," Frank said, smiling at her.
"You cannot mean to follow us!"
"Not immediately, no. I have business in Town that may keep me busy for a while, and I do not want to make a nuisance of myself. But your mother has already hinted at an invitation for my mother and myself to stay with your family, and if you do not object to it I'd very much like to accept it."
"It means nothing to me if you do," Eleanor said, her eyes and smile belying her words as well as the coldness of her tone of voice. There was that happy sparkle again. "If my parents invite you, you are most welcome to visit us."
"I am glad to hear it. Shall we go in to supper now, before everyone else does?"
She laughed. "Let us be ahead of the crowd by all means!"
Simon Gilbert and Miss Chalmers joined them at the supper table, and it became evident that in spite of the things Frank had said to her only some minutes before Eleanor still thought of Miss Chalmers as a rival. Had she taken great care not to betray her feelings for him before, she was now only too happy to respond to his attempts at flirting with him; to show Miss Chalmers her place, no doubt. Frank was amused, and so was Simon, who watched his cousin's antics with a humorous gleam in his eyes.
That Simon Gilbert was quite taken with Miss Chalmers was obvious, and Frank wished him well in that quarter. His friend's brother was a desirable parti, for although he was a younger son he was the incumbent of a very comfortable living; and his character was such as commanded respect. Miss Chalmers could do worse than fall in love with him. But it was early days yet. Simon involved Miss Chalmers in a lively discussion of London life and society, discovered that she preferred country life to life in Town, and amused her with some hilarious anecdotes. They appeared to enjoy each other's company a great deal, but it was quite possible that nothing whatsoever would come of it.
"Why don't you like Miss Chalmers?" Frank asked Eleanor in a spirit of mischief as they were walking back to the Long Gallery. "I was almost certain that you would!"
"What makes you think I do not like her?" Eleanor asked. "You know I do not take to strangers immediately!"
"I know that, but you do not treat them to your iciest manner either," Frank replied. "What has Miss Chalmers done to deserve your dislike?"
"Nothing, to be sure," Eleanor sniffed.
Frank grinned. The fact that he had called Miss Chalmers a pretty girl still rankled, then.
Frank's uncle and his family left Hanley Park soon after Christmas, while the rest of Frank's guests remained until the beginning of the New Year. It was amazing to see the effect the Morrisons' departure had on the remaining members of the house party. Almost before their carriage was out of sight spirits revived, and everyone became aware of how awkward they'd found that family's constant disapproval of everything that was done or said. Only Charlie was going to be missed, Frank suspected, for his youngest cousin had been the only congenial member of the family, and had been well liked.
For him, at least, a most welcome substitute was on his way. In the afternoon of the day following the Morrisons' departure, an unexpected visitor arrived at the front door of Hanley Park, and Frank, who'd just been on his way upstairs to his room to dress for dinner, witnessed his arrival.
"Major Gilbert to see Captain Morrison," the visitor said. With a broad grin, Frank descended the stairs again.
"So you've been made Major, have you? I'm not at all surprised!" he cried, and shook his friend's hand. "But how is this? I thought you were determined to stay in Spain till we'd got well rid of Bonaparte!"
"Since it'll take some time yet till we have got rid of him I thought I'd come over and see how things are back home," John Gilbert replied. "They'll be able to manage without me for a couple of weeks, and so I grabbed the chance to take some dispatches to London, as offered by General Baines. I am going to make use of the opportunity to finally have a look at my son before he finishes university."
Frank laughed. "Very well. Your wife is in the nursery with him at the moment, so I'll take you upstairs to see them. You won't be sorry to see her either, I'll wager."
Although Gilbert did not choose to respond to this sally, his broad grin said enough. Frank took him to the door of the room they had allotted to Mrs Gilbert as her son's nursery, and left his friend there. Gilbert had not commented on the state of Frank's leg, but Frank had been aware of his scrutiny as he'd walked up the stairs ahead of his friend.
It was hardly surprising that John Gilbert's unexpected homecoming cheered up the company assembled in his friend's house after all he was related to most of his friend's guests. Mrs Gilbert, especially, looked radiant whenever she gazed at her husband seated next to her at the dinner table; and Gilbert himself appeared to be equally happy to be reunited with her. As for his son, Major Gilbert proudly announced that he had never seen such a fine baby before.
It was not until the evening of the next day that Frank could spend some time alone with his friend. After everyone else had gone to bed, Frank, whose leg was hurting again, went to the library to read until he was tired enough to fall asleep in spite of the pain. To his surprise, Gilbert offered to keep him company for a while instead of following his wife upstairs.
"You look positively worn out tonight," Gilbert remarked, sitting down in the chair opposite Frank's. "That leg of yours is still giving you trouble, isn't it?"
"Unfortunately," Frank sighed. "Could be worse. They could have cut it off."
"Too true," Gilbert agreed. "Have you seen a doctor since you came home?"
"I saw one in London when I got back, but I might as well have spared myself the trouble. He advised me to keep exercising my leg and take laudanum if the pain gets too much for me."
"And it hasn't got any better yet?"
"Oh, I do have days when it doesn't hurt all that much. The nights are the worst, but I am used to doing without much sleep, as you know."
"Don't I just," Gilbert laughed, but soon turned earnest again. "This doesn't sound as if you'll come back to Spain any time soon," he said.
"No; in fact I am beginning to think I might not go back at all. Who'd have thought it, last summer? I certainly did not."
"You're planning to sell out?" The surprise in Gilbert's face was evident. He had obviously counted on Frank coming back to Spain once he had fully recovered. Frank, however, was beginning to think that his leg would never heal completely. The best he could hope for, he feared, was being reasonably well most of the time.
"Let's say I am considering the possibility. It all depends on your cousin, really. If she marries me, I'll stay here. If she does not, I'll stand in need of something to do to take my mind off things in which case I'll stay in the army. There's still the question whether I'll go back to Spain, however. I'm not going back to become a burden on the regiment."
Gilbert nodded. "I can see your point," he said. "But why aren't you married yet? Ever since you wrote to me that you were going back to England I've been expecting to hear of your wedding. What happened?"
"The bride still needs some persuading," Frank said.
"Foolish girl! She appears quite smitten with you; what has made her run shy? I'd never have thought Eleanor was such a fickle creature!"
"She is not fickle," Frank said defensively. "She has her reasons."
"Do you know what those reasons are, then?"
For a moment Frank considered confiding in his friend. If there was one man in the world whom he could trust to keep the matter to himself, John Gilbert was the one. But Eleanor had told him in confidence; it was not for Frank to reveal her secret, and so he merely replied, "Yes; she told me what the trouble is. I won't deny that for some time I had no clue as to what to do about it, but I do know now. I cannot tell you what her reasons are I won't betray her confidence but I can deal with the matter, I think. Once I've done so, we'll see."
"Do you need help?" Gilbert asked.
"No; I don't think I do. Thank you all the same for offering it," Frank said with a smile.
"Well, if you change your mind don't hesitate to tell me," Gilbert said, rose from his chair and wished Frank a good night.
In mid-January, Frank's guests left the Gilberts went to Surrey, where Mrs Gilbert's home was, to spend some weeks together there before the Season in London began and Major Gilbert was obliged to return to Spain. The Swinfords' plans were similar; but they were going to spend their time until the start of the London Season in Lincolnshire on Mr Swinford's estate, and had invited Frank and his mother to join them there. Eleanor's parents had not given up their hope of getting Frank as their son-in-law, especially since they had grown to like him, and they were eager to do what they could to promote the match. Frank accepted their invitation, but told them that he had some business to attend to in London before being able to travel to Lincolnshire.
He was not certain whether he would find Skelling in town at that time of the year. It was, in fact, much more probable that his lordship was staying somewhere in the Shires for a spot of hunting and would not return to London before the beginning of the Season. However, Frank was lucky. Skelling was in London, having returned there after a violent quarrel with the man at whose hunting-box he'd been staying. London was rather empty of company so early in the year, but naturally the tale of Skelling's quarrel with his host was all over town, and there were quite a few people who thought Skelling had gone too far this time. No matter how great the provocation one did not start a fight with the man under whose roof one was staying it was behaviour unworthy of a gentleman. Things could not have gone any better, Frank thought grimly. A new scandalous tale concerning Skelling was likely to spread like wildfire, and, which was even better, Skelling knew this and was aware that his birth and consequence might not save him the next time.
When Frank encountered him at White's, he appeared to be in a humbler state of mind than usual, and Frank decided to make use of it. There were a few interested glances directed at Skelling, but he was not invited to join any party present. Frank was not planning to pounce on his lordship, but was going to wait for a few minutes before accosting him. In the end, he was not obliged to do so, for it was Skelling who addressed him first.
"Excuse me, sir, but I believe we have met before," he said. "Aren't you Miss Morrison's cousin? The military man?"
While his words as such were polite, there was still a trace of haughtiness in his tone of voice that Frank did not like.
He took care not to betray his disgust, however; instead he told Skelling that he was indeed related to Miss Morrison, and invited him to a game of chess.
"I do not play chess," Skelling said. "Always found it devilishly dull."
In a way it did Frank good to see that Skelling had not changed all that much yet. It spared him any feeling of pity he might otherwise have had.
"Piquet then? You do play cards occasionally, don't you?" he asked.
Skelling did not object to playing cards with Frank, and so they went to the card room which, Frank was pleased to note, they had to themselves. He asked a waiter for a bottle of wine and a new packet of cards, and then settled down in his chair opposite Skelling.
"Are you well-acquainted with my uncle's family?" he asked, at his most amiable.
"Not exactly. One does meet them at social functions now and then," Skelling replied. "One does not meet you quite so often."
"At Almack's and the like? Lord, no! What use would I be there?" Frank laughed. "I am not much of a dancer, as you can see. Even if I were not still in black gloves I do not think I'd attend. I'd be heartily bored all evening."
"Black gloves?" Skelling asked, dealing the cards. "Ah yes, I remember your cousin saying something along these lines. An uncle, I believe? My condolences, sir."
"Thank you. You are quite right it was my uncle who died; on my mother's side of the family. Peter Hargreave."
Frank watched Skelling's face for some reaction as he revealed his uncle's name, and was not disappointed. A brief flicker in his lordship's eyes betrayed that he was well aware of the scandal that had involved his mother and Frank's uncle, although Frank was not certain how much he really knew. For the moment, Skelling had himself well in hand.
"I never met him, of course he had to leave England due to some scandal involving him and a married lady some time before I was born but one does not wish to be backward in any attention to one who has left one his fortune," Frank continued, and added, "I believe it was even several months before you were born, wasn't it?"
Skelling laid his cards face-down on the table and stared hard at Frank. "What do you mean by that?" he demanded.
"I meant exactly what I said," Frank said. "That my uncle left England some six or seven months before you were born."
"I wonder what this has to do with me," Skelling said.
"If I were to adopt your style and bandy a lady's name about I could tell you exactly what it has to do with you," Frank said in a pleasant tone that yet had a touch of steel in it. "As it is I will only tell you as much the number of months between my uncle's departure from England and the day of your birth does have some significance, or so the evidence in my uncle's diaries has led me to believe."
There was a long pause.
"Adopting my style?" Skelling finally said. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Again, I am not bandying names," Frank replied. "Let us just say that there is one young lady who has suffered considerably from your holding a minor indiscretion of hers over her head and threatening her with exposure. The incident I am referring to happened at Lady Weston's ball last year."
"Who told you?" Skelling asked. At least he did not try to deny his act of villainy, Frank thought. If he had, Frank might knocked him down, in spite of his intention to stay calm.
"Does it matter?" Frank replied. "There were witnesses to the incident one witness, at any rate so the truth was bound to come out sooner or later."
Frank was well aware that this led Skelling to believe that it had been Serena who'd carried the tale to him, and in part this was even true. If Eleanor had not told him, Serena would have. Frank was not sorry to drive a spoke in his cousin's wheel there. He had no reason to like Serena, but he did not want her to have much to do with the likes of Skelling. It was bad enough to have Skelling as his cousin even if no one else knew about the relationship. To be obliged to accept him as his cousin by marriage would have been even worse, and the thought of Eleanor meeting the man at every family get-together was insupportable.
"I see," Skelling said, furious. "You might as well know that she started it all. If she didn't want me to kiss her, why did she go into the garden with me in the first place?"
"That was the indiscretion I was talking about," Frank replied. "In comparison to what you did in that situation it was nothing. Anyway, the lady is closely related to two friends of mine one is her brother, and the other is her cousin. This is why I assume the right to defend her honour, and defend it I will. If the lady receives a written apology from you within two weeks from now and hears no more from you after that, I will be happy to keep the contents of my uncle's diaries to myself."
"Am I to believe that your motives are purely unselfish?" Skelling sneered.
"Oh no, not purely unselfish. Can anybody say that about themselves?" Frank asked sweetly. "But my motives need not concern you."
"And what guarantee can you give me that your tongue will not slip quite unwittingly, of course even though Miss " He broke off as Frank raised his hand warningly. " the lady we are talking about," he corrected himself hastily, "has her apology? What if, say, you find yourself in financial difficulties?"
Frank laughed. "You'd be the last man in the world to whom I would turn if I needed monetary assistance, rest assured," he said. "I give you my word as a gentleman that the topic of this conversation will stay between the two of us for as long as you keep to our agreement. Are you satisfied? Or do you think every gentleman is as quick to cast the code of honour aside as you are?"
Skelling's face hardened. "I have nothing more to say to you," he said, rising.
"I am glad to hear it," Frank said pleasantly. "For my part, I hope I will never have to say anything about you. Good bye, my lord."
To oblige his mother, Frank asked the doctor to examine his leg once more before he returned to Kent to prepare for his journey. He had no great hopes concerning this doctor's visit his opinion of physicians had never been high, and had it not been for his mother's earnest entreaties he would not have bothered to see one. He knew what was wrong with him; he had already been told that there was not much any doctor could do to improve matters, and he did not expect any new developments in that quarter. His surprise was therefore great when the doctor told him that his leg had made some progress and cautiously expressed his hope that if nothing went terribly wrong there was a good chance of Frank recovering enough to do without a walking stick. Still it would not do to be too optimistic - the leg was likely to trouble Frank for the rest of his life whenever there was a change of weather. Although Frank took the doctor's advice and did not allow himself to become too hopeful, this pronouncement did much to cheer him, as did the prospect of seeing Eleanor again soon.
He was not quite sure of how to continue his courtship of Eleanor. He hoped he had put Skelling out of the way he believed Skelling had realised that Frank was not one to make empty threats, and that there really was some proof of his father's identity in Frank's hands. There was, of course, still the chance that Skelling decided to take the risk of exposure, believing that no great harm could come of it since his mother's husband had always accepted him as his son, if only to save his wife from ruin and himself from ridicule. Neither Skelling's inheritance nor his title was in danger if the truth came to light. But there'd be a stir, and while it was not unheard of that people of uncertain parentage were accepted into good society, in Skelling's case there were many who were waiting for an excuse to renounce him. Surely Skelling was aware of that. Those few friends of his whom he had not yet alienated with his revolting manners would be of little help if the old scandal came to the surface once again. Maybe they, too, were hoping for a good reason to finally drop him. Not that Frank cared about what became of the man, as long as he stopped molesting Eleanor. If he did not stop, however, Frank would see to it that he was ruined. As for Eleanor he would see.
The journey to Lincolnshire was uneventful. They even managed to arrive almost two hours earlier than planned, therefore taking their hosts by surprise. Mr Swinford and his son had not yet returned from their morning ride, while Mrs Swinford and Eleanor had been busy about the house. As Frank and his mother were ushered into Mrs Swinford's parlour, both she and her daughter were awaiting them there, but they gave the impression of having hurried away from their morning tasks only moments before their guests had entered the room. Neither of them appeared to resent their early arrival, however, and Frank was pleased to note the slight flush on Eleanor's face, and her happy smile that mirrored his own as she welcomed him in her family's home.
"I hope you had a pleasant journey," she said.
"Thank you; it was very pleasant," Frank replied. "The weather was fine, and there were no difficulties to delay us. Almost too good to be true."
"What do you think of the countryside around here?" Eleanor wanted to know. Frank suppressed a sigh so they were back to insipid small-talk then. This was not encouraging at all.
"Very pretty," he replied. "It has shown itself at its best unlike Kent when you saw it."
"Nevertheless I liked what I saw," Eleanor said, smiling. "It must be very beautiful there in spring."
"You are always welcome to come back and have a look," Frank suggested.
"I might take you up on the invitation," said Eleanor. "One day."
"I am looking forward to that day, then."
Eleanor blushed slightly, and changed the subject. "My father and brother will be very sorry they were not at home when you arrived," she said.
"It was my fault entirely for arriving sooner than expected," Frank said. "So uncivil of me! I hope they will be able to forgive me."
Eleanor laughed. "I am almost certain that they will."
Eleanor received Skelling's apology only two days after Frank's arrival in Lincolnshire. It was among the letters freshly arrived from the receiving office when Frank returned to the house after a day's shooting with Eleanor's brother. Walter, looking through the letters on the table in the hallway, uttered an exclamation of surprise and, when Frank asked him what the matter was, said, "There's a letter to Eleanor, franked by Skelling. I wonder what this is about."
"I am sure she will tell you," Frank said. Walter gave him a searching look. "Do you mean to say you do not mind if she gets letters from that fellow?"
"I have no right to object to your sister's correspondence," Frank replied. "You may have; I don't know. At any rate she is more likely to answer your questions than mine, so if you want to know why she is getting letters from Skelling you had better ask her."
Walter admitted that this was probably so, and they went upstairs to their respective rooms to change for dinner.
At the dinner table, when everyone was engaged in some conversation or other, Eleanor said to Frank, "I wonder whether you could spare me five minutes tomorrow morning. There is something I must talk to you about in private, if you do not mind."
"You know I am at your service whenever you wish," Frank replied. "Shall we go for a walk in the garden after breakfast? Would that suit you?"
"Oh yes, I would like that," Eleanor said. "It has been such a long time since we walked in my aunt's garden in Colby Green, and how I enjoyed those walks!" There was a happy glow in her eyes, which led Frank to believe that the contents of Skelling's letter had not alarmed her.
Eleanor continued to be in good spirits all evening, which made Frank even more certain that Skelling's letter had indeed been an apology.
The next morning Eleanor suggested walking to a summer house in the garden, for although it was too cold still to be sitting there for long it would do for a few minutes' rest when they got there. It was not until they had reached the summer house that Eleanor pulled the letter out of her pocket and gave it to Frank to read. Skelling must have taken some pains to write the letter, Frank thought. He had taken care to keep the missive as formal and impersonal as possible, but there was nothing to be said against that. It was probably easier to deal with a formal apology than with an impassioned plea for forgiveness which might well embarrass Eleanor.
"He has seen the error of his ways at last," Frank remarked, handing the letter back to Eleanor.
"I am not sure Skelling is capable of seeing the error of his ways," she replied. "I cannot help but wonder why he has sent me such a letter. Did you make him do it?"
"By putting a pistol to his head, probably? Certainly not."
"Frank, I know you were in London, and I also know Skelling is staying in town at the moment. Did you go to see him?"
"I did not. I met him at White's."
"I knew you must be behind it all!" Eleanor cried.
"I admit I had a word with him," Frank said. "But he must have known he was in the wrong you do not think I could make him do anything he felt no inclination to do? Skelling, of all men!"
"Yet it seems rather strange to me," Eleanor insisted.
"Maybe," Frank suggested, "he realised that his cards would no longer take the trick now that you have confided in me or he has grown tired of the game. Or both. "
"Did you threaten to expose him?"
"No; because that would mean exposing you as well," Frank replied. "And he must know I would not do that so it would be useless to threaten him with exposure."
"True." Eleanor sighed. "I hope he really means it when he says he will no longer trouble me."
"I think he does mean it. And if he does bother you again in spite of his promise you will let me know and I will take care of the matter."
"This letter has taken such a weight off my shoulders I do not know how to thank you, Frank."
"There is no need to thank me," Frank said, taking her hand. "I did it gladly."
For a moment he considered proposing to her again there and then, but decided against it. He had not tackled Skelling to make Eleanor accept him, but if he proposed to her now she might well feel obliged to do so. He wanted her to become his wife, but only if it was her own decision to marry him. Besides things would be very awkward between them if she refused him; an ill-timed marriage proposal would put a sudden end to a very promising visit. He would wait.
Frank enjoyed his visit in Eleanor's home very much. Her parents and brother treated him almost as if he was already a member of the family, and Eleanor, no longer afraid of showing her affection for him, spent a great deal more time with him than he'd dared to hope a mere month before. Things were going very well, but Frank still hesitated to put his cards on the table and ask Eleanor to marry him. He became aware of the occasional speculative glance from her whenever they were alone and she thought he was not looking. It was almost as if she expected a proposal from him, but Frank no longer trusted his luck and was on his guard. He was going to propose to her once more on the day before leaving Lincolnshire. That way both he and Eleanor would be able to avoid any embarrassment, should she refuse him again. This proposal, Frank knew, would be his last one.
It was getting warmer and more spring-like now; and Frank and Eleanor made use of every opportunity to spend some time together. Frank's leg was making progress, and although he still needed his stick he could walk longer distances by now. Eleanor and her brother showed him the countryside surrounding their home, and on these outings Walter often disappeared and did not come back to them until it was time to return home. Young Mr Swinford was just the kind of chaperon a pair of lovers could wish for.
One morning they'd set out for a ride to the neighbouring village, discussing a startling piece of news they had read in the morning paper Lord Skelling had become engaged to Lady Penelope Burton. Frank had been glad to read the announcement for two reasons firstly, Skelling's betrothal made it clear that he no longer had any intentions regarding Eleanor and, secondly, it relieved his friend Edenthorpe from his obligation to marry Lady Penelope. Edenthorpe could now look for a lady who suited his ideas of what a wife should be, and find happiness in marriage. From what Frank had heard of Lady Penelope she was the perfect wife for Skelling; they would be a well-matched couple. He even permitted himself a moment of malicious satisfaction when he thought of his cousin Serena and how she would receive the news of Skelling's forthcoming marriage.
Eleanor, at any rate, received it with a great deal of joy. Like Frank she realised that Skelling had given up his ambition to marry her, and that she was free at last to do what she liked. She wished Lady Penelope all the happiness in the world, she said, and hoped she would have no reason to regret her decision. As for herself, she was happy to be rid of his lordship.
They rode through the gate of her father's estate when she suddenly took it into her head to walk up to the house across the garden, and asked Frank to walk with her.
"Walter can take the horses to the stables for us, can't you, Walter?" she asked her brother. With a grin, Walter agreed. They got off their horses, and Eleanor took Frank's arm.
"It is such a lovely day," she said. "I am in no hurry to get back inside; are you?"
"I'll be happy to walk with you for a while," Frank laughed. "But keep in mind that I do not have my walking stick with me."
"You can lean on me," Eleanor suggested.
"For a while I may, but I don't want you to overtax your strength," Frank said. Still, he put his arm around her shoulders and held on to her. "Where would you like to go?"
"I would like to take the path through the kitchen garden to the house," she said. "If you do not think it is too far for you to walk."
"I think I will be fine," Frank said. They walked along the path for a few minutes, with Eleanor pointing out the first spring flowers to him and, in his opinion, wishing to say something quite different but not knowing how to go about it.
"What is it that you want to tell me?" he asked her when they had almost reached the house but she had still not come to the point.
She stopped and looked at him. "I I don't know how to say this," she began. "It has been on my mind for a while now and I have been wishing to ask you if " She shook her head. "I can't."
Frank did not press her. He merely took her hand and kissed it. This encouraged her to try again.
"I know I have treated you badly, and I have no right to ask you," she said. "I would not be surprised if I had worn out your love by now; I certainly made the attempt. The question I mean to ask you is have I succeeded?"
"Whatever makes you think so?" Frank asked, startled.
"Well, you have been very kind to me but Frank, if I did something quite improper, you would not judge me too harshly, would you?"
"That would depend on what it was, and with whom." Frank smiled. "I think you know the answer to that question, don't you?"
She reddened, and then said, suddenly, "Frank, don't you want to marry me any more? It's only that while I thought you'd ask me again you never have and I am afraid " She broke off.
"You are afraid I might not ask again," Frank finished the sentence for her. "To say the truth I did not dare to. You see, once a man gets rejected for the second time he becomes cautious."
"What are you waiting for?" Eleanor asked. "Do you want me to propose to you?"
"I'd like being proposed to, I think," Frank said, laughingly, pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
She emerged from his embrace quite out of breath. "It is not at all gentlemanly of you to first demand a proposal from me and then not let me make it," she protested.
"I was merely trying to strengthen your resolve," Frank explained, and took her into his arms again.
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