And when he had escorted Susan to the library, he had somehow found himself also inviting her to join him and Edmund and Alexandra at the theater one evening. He did not quite know how he had come to do such a thing, since Susan had spent almost the whole of their outing worrying about how she was imposing upon his time.
He had almost married Susan once upon a time. And now she was a widow and in a delicate emotional state. He really did not harbor any leftover feelings for her, beyond the fondness he had always felt for her, even when she was a child. He did not want to marry her.
Ellen was the only woman he wanted to marry, and that was out of the question.
Somehow, he thought, life had been far less complicated when he had first bought his commission and gone off to Spain and there were only the French and the mud and the heat and death to worry about.
He did attend his mother’s tea, even though he knew he would be the only man present. And he very deliberately seated himself beside Ellen when she arrived, and conversed with his aunt, who sat on his other side. Anna and Miss Simpson had their heads together and looked quite pleased with themselves.
“William has decided that we are going home soon,” Mrs. Carrington said, “and I can’t say I am sorry. Two months were all we expected to be away. But thanks to you, my dear”-she patted Lord Eden’s hand-“we extended our stay. And here we still are. Anna and Walter don’t want to go home, of course. But when Papa speaks, they have no choice.”
“In my experience,” Lord Eden said, grinning, “when Uncle William speaks, Anna starts to twist him about her finger.”
“Gracious, Dominic!” she said as Madeline laughed, and tapped him sharply on the hand. “You must not say so, especially when she is like to hear.” She glanced at her oblivious daughter. “Poor William is too indulgent by half.”
“So you are going home,” he said. “Edmund and Alexandra too, I believe. And I plan to take myself off into Wiltshire within the next week or so. I have a home and an estate to make my own.”
“You have decided, then, Dominic?” his mother asked. “I had hoped that you would wait until after Christmas, dear. But I daresay you will come to Amberley for the festivities, anyway.”
“Perhaps,” he said. “But I have a life to get on with. And I feel quite fit again and eager for something definite to do.”
“I was very pleased to see the progress Lieutenant Penworth has made,” the dowager said to Mrs. Carrington. “There has been a marked improvement since I saw him last in Brussels.”
Madeline focused her attention on that line of conversation.
“I will be taking myself out of your life soon, you see,” Lord Eden said quietly to Ellen, smiling down at her.
“Yes,” she said.
“You will be glad of that.”
Her cup rattled ever so slightly in its saucer as she set it down. “Yes,” she said.
“I think it very likely that I will not see you again after today,” he said. He looked at her for a silent moment. “Ellen, are you quite sure that you are not in need at all? I suppose you would not allow me to help you anyway. But I am worried about you.”
“You need not be.” She looked up at him, her jaw very firm. “Do you think it possible that Charlie, who knew for years that he might die at a moment’s notice, would not have made adequate provision for his daughter and me? We are not in any kind of need, my lord.”
“I am glad, then,” he said.
She moved her eyes to Madeline, who was talking to her aunt and her mother, but he could tell that she was not listening. His own eyes moved over her profile, over her hair, as if to commit all the details to memory.
How could he have known her all those years, been frequently in company with her, and not known? It seemed incredible now that he could ever have looked at her and not known.
Her head moved jerkily and her eyes met his, wavered for a moment, and held. She swallowed and licked her lips. His eyes dropped to follow the movement.
“I met my father this morning,” she said hastily.
His eyebrows rose. “The Earl of Harrowby?”
“The earl, yes.” She flushed.
“Did you, Ellen?” he said. “I am glad for you. Should I be glad?”
Her gray eyes were wide and fully focused on him. “I have not seen him since I was fifteen,” she said. “I told you about that last meeting, didn’t I? He hasn’t really changed. He looked very familiar. I am going to visit him tomorrow.”
“Are you?” He clenched into a loose fist the hand that had been about to reach out to cover one of hers.
“Is it the wrong thing to do?” she asked. “He is not my father. Is it foolish to revisit the past? It was my home. And now I am going there as a visitor. Should I have refused?”
He shook his head. “No,” he said. “I can see in your eyes that this is very much something you want to do, Ellen. Then you should do it. And he was your father for fifteen years, even if he did not beget you. You had good times with him. You told me about some of them.”
She half-smiled into his eyes.
“What does your sister-in-law say?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I have not told anyone else,” she said. “I was alone this morning. I think I want to go. I want to have someone of my own, even if he is not quite mine. Do you know what I mean?”
He nodded. “Families can be the plague of one’s life,” he said. “But I cannot imagine a worse fate than to be totally without mine. You must go, Ellen. He invited you?”
She nodded.
“Then you must go.”
If he held his breath, perhaps the spell would never be broken. They were smiling into each other’s eyes, not saying anything, but unembarrassed nonetheless. Just as they had done frequently through almost two weeks. She was talking from the heart, just as she had done then. He felt almost that he could reach out for her hand and she would give it to him and let it rest companionably in his.
And he had just told her that he would probably not see her again.
“Dominic!” Anna’s voice was laughing and exasperated all at the same time. “Are you deaf? I suppose you and Mrs. Simpson are deep in war reminiscences. Could I please have a little of your attention?”
Ellen’s eyes widened before dropping away from his. She flushed.
“Sorry,” he said. “What is it, Anna?”
“Jennifer is coming to the Tower with Walter and me tomorrow,” she said, “and Mr. Phelps cannot come. It would be very lowering for me to have to go along with a mere brother, Dominic. You must rescue me. Will you? If you come, I will instantly become the most envied female in London, for you are easily the most handsome gentleman in town.” She laughed gaily.
“I can resist anything but flattery,” he said, “and the chance of having a pretty lady to escort about London.”
“Oh, splendid!” she said, smiling back at Jennifer. “And we will charm the men into taking us to Gunter’s for ices.”
“At this time of year?” Lord Eden asked. “You must be mad, Anna.”
Ellen, he noticed, had been drawn into conversation with his mother, his aunt, and Madeline. He did not talk with her again until she and her stepdaughter rose to take their leave.
“I shall see you tomorrow,” he said to Jennifer as he took her hand in his. “It is years since I saw the Tower.”
“And I have never seen it,” she said, her face bright and eager. “I shall so look forward to the outing, my lord.”
“Good-bye, Ellen,” he said, taking her hand in a quite tight grasp and looking closely into her eyes. There was nothing else to be said. They were surrounded by members of his family and Miss Simpson, all talking at once, it seemed. And this might be good-bye indeed. There were a thousand things to say. He felt panic rise into his throat.