Lady Eleanor Mary Cantwell, daughter of the Marquess of Salford, is a proper young lady. With her golden complexion, raven-black hair, and manners befitting a princess, Lady Eleanor has always been deemed a belle. There is just one problem.
Lady Ele...
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Eleanor was sure she had gone mad. Mad to the point of insanity. Mad to the point she knew there was no return from, to the point where madness had made abode in her with no intention of ever leaving - like a parasite which leached off of its victim.
Of course, the simple fact that she was comparing madness to a filthy parasite after what she had had to just go through confirmed her belief that she had indeed become inane.
With a groan, she removed her dressing robe and draped it on the back of a chair before climbing under the rich duvet of her bed. The duvet provided her with warmth; a welcome relief from the stinging cold the rain had left behind in its wake. However, she deeply doubted anything could give her what she really wanted in that moment: the ability to turn back time and redo her ludicrous actions from that afternoon.
Her mind whirled with the happenings that led to her current state of indisposition. Nathan telling her she was worth apologising to over and over again - she thought him asinine to say that - her doe-eyed stare as her heart thumped furiously, his laugh afterwards telling her that he did not mean anything by it, the disappointment that had coursed through her at his words and finally, the frantic and embarrassed run that had led to her locking herself in her room, refusing to answer as Nathan, her lady's maid and several others knocked on the door, pleading with her to at least answer them.
She covered her face with her hands and moaned at the barrage of memories. He must think her insane! What else would one think when someone simply runs from the other mid-conversation?
But she would pretend it would be fine...yes, of course. She would hide her insanity from Nathan and the maids and pretend nothing ever happened. She could blame it all on her cycles. Yes, she could do that! No one would dare question a lady further on such matters. Indeed, it seemed so simple!
For now, she would drift off to sleep, hopefully with no intrusion of her husband in her dreams.
**********
It will be alright, Eleanor told herself as she stood at the entrance to the dining room the following day.
Pretend nothing happened and it will be alright, she said yet again as her hand twitched with the folds of her gown and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
How she wished her body would go through with the statements which her mind was making.
With a final deep breath, she signalled the footman to open the door and entered.
Nathan, who was seated at the head of the table, jumped to his feet at her arrival. Eleanor moved to her seat at his side, trying to be as nonchalant as possible; trying to not let him know of her inner turmoil.
'Eleanor,' Nathan breathed when she sat, and followed her action. 'Are you alright?'
Eleanor raised her head to his and smiled. 'Quite. Why do you ask?'
