Indeed, later at supper, Drake found Lord Gillingham seated beside Lady Leonora. The man continued to show impeccable manners, amusing Lady Leonora with stories of his travels to the continent. He maintained an appropriate distance, spoke with emotion and was otherwise attentive in every way. Drake could not find anything in the man’s demeanor that would raise his suspicions, that he would consider inappropriate, that he might disapprove of. Still, neither could Drake deny that something about Lord Gillingham bothered him. If only he knew what that was!
While far from at ease, Lady Leonora at least appeared mildly entertained, her hands only occasionally clenching and unclenching around her glass. She offered a laugh here and there and smiled in certain intervals, but she continued to lean away from Lord Gillingham in a way that Drake doubted anyone else would notice. Her arm almost touched her sister’s, seated on her other side, and her gaze every so often would drift down the table to him—Drake.
Again, Drake found himself offering her an encouraging smile here and there, knowing that she had a long way ahead of her if she ever was to recover from whatever had been done to her. Oddly enough, Drake felt a sense of regret and sorrow at the thought that he would not be there to see it happen, to see her rise from the ashes once more and reclaim her life.
Chapter Five
Back Among People
After a week at Windmere Park, Leonora slowly began to feel a bit more at ease. Perhaps at ease was still not an appropriate term; however, to be among people, began to feel almost normal again. Never had Leonora been one to retreat from the world for she longed to observe it, to see people’s faces as they spoke and to try and recognize those subtle signs that spoke to the truthfulness of their words. Once, she had been good at it. Now, however, with fears clouding her judgment, Leonora no longer believed herself capable of recognizing duplicity when it stood before her. On some level, she hoped to somehow simply know if her path should cross that of her attacker, but deep down, Leonora knew that it would not be so.
Despite the nightmares that still haunted her, she remembered shockingly few details of his person, none of which would aid her in identifying him. His mask had been in place throughout the whole ordeal.
Her own, however, had come off.
It was that thought that unsettled Leonora most. Did he know who she was? Had he recognized her despite the dark that had lingered in the corridor that night? Even if he was not present at Lord Archibald’s house party unaware that she was in attendance, would he seek her out when the new Season began? Or had he already forgotten her?
Of course, Leonora could not know, but what she was beginning to understand with each day that passed was that she could not lock herself away for good. Somehow, despite the threat that lingered, she needed to find a way to return to her old life.
A small measure of pride swelled in her chest each morning when she inhaled a deep breath and then brought her hands down on the door handle of her chamber. There, she would stand, count to ten and then open the door and step outside into the corridor.
To others, it might seem a small accomplishment. Others might not even deem it an accomplishment at all. They left their chambers without another thought. It was nothing difficult, nothing frightening. It was simply a part of everyday life as it once had been for Leonora as well.
Now, though, it took courage to face the world and the people in it. Yet, Leonora knew that she had to. She had retreated and hidden from the world for far too long, and, in truth, it had made her even more fearful. She could not help but look from face to face, wondering if he was nearby. Her rational mind argued that the chances were slim; still, whenever a man—any man—moved in her direction, she felt a desperate need to flee. It took all of her willpower not to run, and she kept wondering if people could read her panic and her reluctance to be among them upon her face.
The only one who clearly could was Lord Pemberton.
In no more than a matter of days, he had come to mean a great deal to her. They had barely spoken more than a few words, and yet, the mere sight of him calmed her nerves and warmed her chilled limbs. Why that was, Leonora could not say; however, she felt beyond grateful.
Ever since the day they had met, she had felt more like herself than she had in the past year. Leonora knew she could not lose that. Nonetheless, she did not know what to do about it. After all, once Lord Archibald’s house party came to an end, their ways would part.
It was inevitable.
What would the world feel like without knowing he was nearby? It was that very thought that kept coursing through Leonora’s head for Lord Pemberton simply seemed to be there no matter where she went. Always was he nearby, even when she could not see him. She would feel him, though, all but sense his presence as though he had placed a calming hand upon her shoulder. Indeed, he seemed to have a talent for blending into his surroundings for more than once she found herself spotting him rather abruptly, only to realize that he had to have been there for a while.
On Christmas Day, Leonora unexpectedly found herself descending the large staircase on her own when her youngest sister Harry suddenly spun around and hastened back to her chamber, mumbling something about a forgotten shawl. Leonora herself was about to turn back and follow her before she called herself to reason. She could walk down the staircase by herself, could she not? Had it truly come to this? That she felt so fearful of the world around her, she could not take a single step on her own?
Gritting her teeth, Leonora turned back to face the staircase, her gaze sweeping over the entrance hall below. Her hand came to rest upon the banister, her fingers tightening upon the smooth wood. She inhaled a deep breath, her ears attuned to voices nearby, voices of people walking here and there. Still, she saw no one down below, and so she inhaled yet another deep breath, lifted her head and took a step forward.
And then another.
And another.
Utterly focused on the steps below her feet, Leonora only belatedly took notice of a small piece of greenery hanging halfway down the staircase. Indeed, Lord Archibald had always been very fond of this tradition. Leonora had spotted a number of mistletoes all over Windmere Park. It had been the same last year. Only last year, these small sprigs had not sent terror through Leonora’s heart.
Now, however, they did.
Fortunately, though, the ground floor still looked deserted, and so Leonora took a few more steps forward, her eyes trained upon the bit of greenery dangling above her head. She forced her thoughts to more pleasant considerations, wondering how on earth Lord Archibald’s servants had managed to secure the mistletoe to the ceiling far above her head. Indeed, it had to have taken an act of acrobatics or perhaps a specifically fashioned ladder for that very purpose.
Leonora was so caught up in her thoughts that she failed to notice footsteps approaching. Only when Lord Sedgwick uttered a delighted greeting to have come upon her here did Leonora realize her precarious situation. Indeed, the young lord quickly took note of her—in his opinion—convenient location beneath the sprig of mistletoe. A smile stretched across his face and his eyes lit up before he strode forward, urgency quickening his steps as he climbed the stairs toward her.
Leonora stared at him in shock as though she were facing a stampede heading straight for her. Her heart beat painfully in her chest, knocking against her rib cage as though trying to break free. Her head began to spin, and she felt her hand tighten upon the banister in a painful fashion. She knew she ought to turn around and escape the situation. She felt the desire to do so. Cursedly, her feet would not move. She simply stood and stared, unable to do anything.