Page 37 of Twice Upon a Midnight

A dark part of Ella’s heart knew that, too, because she hadn’ttriedto find Spenser—she’dfoundhim. Yet he still kept himself from her.

After their night together in the park and what they’d shared—only now to be rejected by him so out of hand, without even a word of explanation—she knew she’d reached the end of her attempt to find love. But knowing that didn’t lessen the pain.

Mama squeezed Ella’s hands. “The marquess is the son of a well-respected duke, and he shows all kinds of promise for becoming an accomplished politician and someone who will enact real reform. I’ve heard nothing but good things about him, including that he serves on the board for St Bartholomew’s Hospital. Give him a chance? That’s all I’m asking. I’m not saying to accept a marriage proposal. Just give him the chance to come to know you better, and you him.” She sent Ella a hopeful smile. “Perhaps you’ll find him to be as romantic and dashing as your Spenser.”

That would never happen.Yet Ella gave a jerking nod of surrender.

Her mother hugged Ella tightly to her. Oddly, her attempt to soothe her only caused Ella more anguish, but she didn’t push herself away because she knew her mother needed comforting as much as she did.

Mama sat back but she continued to hold Ella’s hands in hers, as if she were afraid her daughter would attempt to flee right then. “This doesn’t mean that you have to allow the marquess to court you exclusively, that it has to be anything more than him simply calling on you. You can still dance with other men and spend time with them.” She squeezed Ella’s hands once more and released them. “But I think it’s time you considered looking beyond your masked man.” With a sad expression, she reached up to affectionately brush a stray curl from Ella’s forehead, just as she’d done since Ella was a little girl. “We tried to find him, Ella, we truly did. But there’s nothing more we can do now, and my heart would hate for you to miss wonderful opportunities with other gentlemen who might make you just as happy as he did.”

Ella looked away to keep her mother from seeing her unshed tears.

She had no idea how she managed to keep from breaking down as she pushed herself to her feet and pretended she was interested in the biscuits and cold tea on the tray. She forced a smile as if she hadn’t a care in the world and selected a biscuit to bring to her lips, then pretended to nibble at it as she turned toward the fireplace, more to keep her back to her mother than because she was chilled.

The next hour of waiting passed in sheer agony. While her mother returned to her needlework and occasionally muttered a soft curse beneath her breath at yet another needle prick, Ella spent her time wandering aimlessly around the room. She couldn’t sit still, yet she couldn’t find the strength to return to pacing. She paused to glance out the window, now more from habit than expectation. She was still waiting for a perfectly handsome, cultured, and charming man to call on her.

What utterly devastated her was that he was already here…and the wrong man.

Finally, the faint reverberation of the front door opening and closing reached them. Her mother paused, needle poised in the air mid-stitch. Ella almost wept at the hopeful expression on the duchess’s face.

Ella went to the window and watched Simon Radcliff leave the house. He practically bounced down the wide front steps and across the drive to his waiting horse. With a pat to his hat to keep it in place, he swung up onto his gelding, nodded at the groom to release the bridle, and then tapped his heels to make the horse trot away.

Although her mother didn’t say a word, only went back to not-so-carefully embroidering the piece of linen in its wooden hoop, Ella could practically feel the hope and anticipation radiating from her, which only made her desolation worse. That she could feel so horrible about something that made Mama so happy knotted feelings of guilt in her belly until they sickened her. Ella glanced at the tea tray and was certain she’d never eat another biscuit again in her life after today.

The door opened, and Papa sauntered into the drawing room. With a loud sound registering somewhere between a tired sigh and a pained groan of age, he flopped onto the settee, snatched up a handful of lemon biscuits from the tray, and kicked out his short legs.

Her mother gave her own frustrated sound at his nonchalance and tossed down her needlework in a tangled mess onto the floor beside the settee. “Well?”

“Well what?” Papa asked as he bit into a biscuit. “Hendricks said there was already a refreshments tray up here, and I didn’t want to wait for a new one to be brought to my study.” He rested the biscuits on his round belly beneath a purple-striped waistcoat. “Thought you might not mind sharing.”

Mama stared at him as if he’d gone mad.

Misunderstanding her consternation, he explained, “Cook always sends up twice as many as you two can eat. I don’t see what difference it makes if I help myself to—”

“Durham, for heaven’s sake!” Her mother shoved herself to her feet, her hands clenching at her sides. Impatience poured from her. “The marquess!”

“Who?” He blinked. Then understanding fell over him. “Ah, yes—Walmesley. Fine fellow.” He bit off another piece of biscuit and said between chews, “Knows his horses. Can tell his winners from his nags.”

Thatprovided no comfort to Ella.

“He called on you.” Mama pointed out the obvious. Then she actually pointed toward the door in the direction of his downstairs study. “For the past hour.”

“Yes, he did. Knows a good brandy, too, when he tastes it. He was full of compliments for my 1762 Gautier.”

Her mother crossed her arms impatiently. “Why was he here?”

Papa shrugged. “Said the Darby ladies called on him at Albany a few days ago, on my behalf regarding Parliamentary business, and wanted to return the favor.” His eyes gleamed mischievously. “I had no idea I had any business, Parliamentary or otherwise, with him. Good thing he came by then, eh?”

“Durham!” Mama fumed. “If you do not tell us this minute what he wanted, I swear—”

“He wanted exactly what you think he wanted.” He tossed the rest of the biscuits back onto the tray and brushed the crumbs from his fingers. “He asked to court Elenora.”

Both women lost their breaths, although for completely different reasons.

“And?” her mother asked with barely concealed excitement.

“He’s asked for permission to take her driving.”