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The Cheer in Charming an Earl(33)

By:Emma Locke


Tears threatened to flow again. Elinor swallowed against a rising lump in her throat and pushed away the covers so her bare toes were visible. Never had she been so hot and embarrassed in all her life, and it would only worsen from here. She must tell Grantham before he learned the truth of it himself. “It was exceedingly stupid of me,” she answered, and felt immensely better for having admitted it aloud—so much so that she sat up straighter. “Yes, stupid. I knew he lived in York, only a stone’s toss from your cottage door. Mother had told us you were an invalid, and so I told her you were dying and begged to be allowed to attend you. But I sabotaged the carriage wheel on the way. I meant to become stranded at Chelford, because I…because I…”

Oh, good heavens, it was one thing to confess her impulsiveness and another to try to explain her dreams. But Aunt Millie’s silent compassion buoyed Elinor until she felt composed enough to continue. “I saw him one day in Gavin’s smithy, you see. He was so handsome, the finest gentleman I’d ever laid eyes on. And an earl, besides! We weren’t introduced, but I learned his name easily enough. I ran to my room and searched through every edition of my Ladies’ Companion Magazine until I reasoned he was unmarried. I thought…”

Her shoulders caved as she picked at a loose thread in the bed linens. “I believed if we were introduced, he would see how well suited we are. I didn’t realize I didn’t know the first thing about him. I didn’t even know he was a libertine—,” she turned to face her aunt, “and I don’t care anymore, actually. I might have started out imprudently, but I can’t regret my actions entirely. He has a good heart, and he is droll. He has been nothing but kind to me in spite of my foibles. I think he would make me a very good husband. But first I must tell him everything and pray he doesn’t think me a silly twit. Will you help me? I must see him before breakfast, or Gavin will take one look at the carriage wheel and he will know.”

Mama would have required her smelling salts after hearing such a tale, but Aunt Millie only looked intrigued. “Yes, child, you must tell him without delay. Let me ring for a maid, then we will see about your gown. It was sent with mine to be aired and pressed.”

The minutes passed interminably as Elinor waited to be made presentable. “Please, ask them to hurry,” she begged the maid who brought them toast and chocolate, then for the eighth time she opened the bedchamber door and peeked into the hallway. No dresses. No Grantham.

Finally, she was able to run down to the breakfast room. But when she skidded into the airy nook, she found two plates in the process of being cleared and no sign of her brother. “Did Lord Chelford accompany Mr. Conley out of doors?” she asked the footmen.

They snapped to attention. Then the older of the two nodded. “Yes, my lady. They went to see the carriage before the storm comes in.”

She followed his gaze to the tall windowpanes and saw there was in fact a purple cloud lurking on the horizon, darker than the gray clouds covering the rest of the sky. “Thank you,” she called over her shoulder as she spun and raced down the long hallway.

But she had no idea how to get out of doors aside from the main entrance. The foyer was as far from the noisy carriage house as possible, so that by the time she finally reached its stone façade and pushed on the polished wheel decorating its gate, she was out of breath. “Gavin!” she called anyway, using the last bit of air in her lungs. “Gavin!”

He materialized around the corner. In one hand he held a piece of the fractured carriage wheel. In the other, a bronze-rimmed magnifying glass. His face was as thunderous as the storm cloud fast approaching. “Was there something you wanted to tell me, Elinor?”





GRANTHAM HURRIED to keep up with Conley’s longer, angrier strides. To Grantham’s untrained eye, the carriage wheel segment in Conley’s left hand appeared to be broken; nothing unexpected given the nature of carriage accidents. But Conley had appeared to see something more. He’d run his gloved forefinger across the splintered edge as if the jagged wood held secrets, then he’d reached for a nearby magnifying glass and scowled into its lens.

Now he towered over Elinor with enough fury to give Grantham alarm, and he wasn’t even the one in Conley’s sights. Grantham pushed the gate open farther and stepped into the gravel yard. To his right, Elinor’s face had taken on a ghostly pallor. Her fingertips were at her lips, and if he wasn’t mistaken, her pretty blue eyes brimmed with tears she was valiantly trying to keep from spilling over.