risen to that rank, but now he never will."
"His body—"
"Don't think of it. I will arrange for it to be taken to the village. Is there a doctor there who can examine it?"
"Of course. But that was not my question. His body, Lord Pierce, appeared to have been...what I mean is, was he..."
"Tortured?" She nodded, biting her lip. "It would appear so."
“How terrible,” she said.
“It is a risk we all take, every one of us, when we enter the Service.”
She shook her head grimly. “To think that people say that the Foreign Service is for cowards,” she said. “I have heard men say that only those too afraid to fight go that route. But it isn’t true.”
“No, it’s not,” he said. “I am sorry you had to see that. It is not something I would wish on anyone, to die that way, and it certainly is not easy to look at.”
“But it is reality, Lord Pierce. I have never been afraid of the real world. I was never the sort of girl who enjoyed fairy tales and fantasies.”
“You do not strike me so,” he said. “And yet I have seen that you have a great capacity for beauty. Your singing, the other night, for instance.” He paused, growing quiet as they neared the stableyard. But then he said, “Is that the reason you would not sing last night, because Mr. Hollier was there?”
She shrugged. “I suppose so.”
“Will you marry him, now that he has returned?” It was a rude question, and she was certain he knew it, but he had already taken such liberties with her, and they had seen a terrible thing. In perspective it seemed like a very small step over a very wavy line.
“I don’t know,” she said after she had considered a moment. She looked over at him. “Do you know, he swore that he loved me, that he would earn the right to be my husband, and yet he did not write to me once the whole time he was gone? I sent him letter upon letter, that first year, but when I got nothing in return, I stopped writing. But we were different people then.” With a sigh, she rode ahead of him into the stableyard.
As she climbed the stairs to her room, however, she mulled over his question. Clearly, Toby’s parents supported his renewing his addresses to her. They had made that quite evident. But did he still have feelings for her? Would there ever be a time when they could talk about what had happened? If they could, Eleanor knew, she would know what to do, what she wanted.
She had no time to think about such vague possibilities, however. The housekeeper, Mrs. Clarence, was waiting for her down in the library, and, perhaps more pressing, there was a dead man on the property. Eleanor shuddered involuntarily as she thought of the mutilated body she had seen. No one deserved to die that way, least of all a man who was doing his duty to his country, even if he was something like a spy.
It was only when she was in her room with the door firmly shut that she allowed herself to think about what had happened before they had discovered that body. With the horror of that moment she had all but forgotten the fact that he had kissed her. What on earth had possessed him to do such a thing? What on earth had made her allow it?
There was no denying that she found him attractive. He had so many of the qualities she had thus far found lacking in the young men of the ton. He was handsome, too, of course, but he was also intelligent without being arrogant, self-assured without being smug. And he seemed to be a genuinely caring person, which was something she had never imagined finding in any man besides her brother.
Thinking of her brother made her freeze. What would Leo say when he learned that she and Lord Pierce had found the dead body of a not-spy in the Park? Surely Lord Pierce would have to tell him when he arrived, which might be as soon as today. Would he also tell her brother about what had transpired in the minutes leading up to the discovery? Eleanor sincerely hoped not, for both their sakes. Lord Pierce had clearly been
"His body—"
"Don't think of it. I will arrange for it to be taken to the village. Is there a doctor there who can examine it?"
"Of course. But that was not my question. His body, Lord Pierce, appeared to have been...what I mean is, was he..."
"Tortured?" She nodded, biting her lip. "It would appear so."
“How terrible,” she said.
“It is a risk we all take, every one of us, when we enter the Service.”
She shook her head grimly. “To think that people say that the Foreign Service is for cowards,” she said. “I have heard men say that only those too afraid to fight go that route. But it isn’t true.”
“No, it’s not,” he said. “I am sorry you had to see that. It is not something I would wish on anyone, to die that way, and it certainly is not easy to look at.”
“But it is reality, Lord Pierce. I have never been afraid of the real world. I was never the sort of girl who enjoyed fairy tales and fantasies.”
“You do not strike me so,” he said. “And yet I have seen that you have a great capacity for beauty. Your singing, the other night, for instance.” He paused, growing quiet as they neared the stableyard. But then he said, “Is that the reason you would not sing last night, because Mr. Hollier was there?”
She shrugged. “I suppose so.”
“Will you marry him, now that he has returned?” It was a rude question, and she was certain he knew it, but he had already taken such liberties with her, and they had seen a terrible thing. In perspective it seemed like a very small step over a very wavy line.
“I don’t know,” she said after she had considered a moment. She looked over at him. “Do you know, he swore that he loved me, that he would earn the right to be my husband, and yet he did not write to me once the whole time he was gone? I sent him letter upon letter, that first year, but when I got nothing in return, I stopped writing. But we were different people then.” With a sigh, she rode ahead of him into the stableyard.
As she climbed the stairs to her room, however, she mulled over his question. Clearly, Toby’s parents supported his renewing his addresses to her. They had made that quite evident. But did he still have feelings for her? Would there ever be a time when they could talk about what had happened? If they could, Eleanor knew, she would know what to do, what she wanted.
She had no time to think about such vague possibilities, however. The housekeeper, Mrs. Clarence, was waiting for her down in the library, and, perhaps more pressing, there was a dead man on the property. Eleanor shuddered involuntarily as she thought of the mutilated body she had seen. No one deserved to die that way, least of all a man who was doing his duty to his country, even if he was something like a spy.
It was only when she was in her room with the door firmly shut that she allowed herself to think about what had happened before they had discovered that body. With the horror of that moment she had all but forgotten the fact that he had kissed her. What on earth had possessed him to do such a thing? What on earth had made her allow it?
There was no denying that she found him attractive. He had so many of the qualities she had thus far found lacking in the young men of the ton. He was handsome, too, of course, but he was also intelligent without being arrogant, self-assured without being smug. And he seemed to be a genuinely caring person, which was something she had never imagined finding in any man besides her brother.
Thinking of her brother made her freeze. What would Leo say when he learned that she and Lord Pierce had found the dead body of a not-spy in the Park? Surely Lord Pierce would have to tell him when he arrived, which might be as soon as today. Would he also tell her brother about what had transpired in the minutes leading up to the discovery? Eleanor sincerely hoped not, for both their sakes. Lord Pierce had clearly been
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