"When I marry, I want protection and certainty," she said at last. "Love would have been a beautiful thing, but it is rare. We will not all be so fortunate, and it is time that I accept such a thing."
There was no challenge from Anne, but there was clearly no belief either. She simply gave Eleanor a knowing look, one that she could not ignore.
"Do not look at me that way," Eleanor sighed. "It is a realization that we must all have eventually."
"You may do so if you please, but I shall have no such thing. There is a reason that you and I remain unmarried."
Eleanor sighed. It was true that there were reasons for her never having married, but it was in part for her expectations being entirely too high. She wanted to be romanced, to be desired, and that was not something that happened often.
A marriage without expectation, however, meant that there could be no disappointment. Her fingers tightened slightly against her palms before she stilled them.
It would be simple. Julian Harrowby did not want love, that much was certain. He would not offer it, and he would not expect it.
There would be no need to pretend, no need to wait for her feelings to develop, for there would never be any. She would never have to feel the quiet humiliation of realizing that what had been promised in the proposal would never be hers.
Eleanor’s expression remained composed, though her thoughts had shifted entirely. It would be an arrangement, and given whoit would be with, it would be a safe one at that, but it was more than that.
She could not return to London as she had been.
She could not take another Season of carefully managed interactions, another several months of expectation followed by nothing. She would not endure it again.
A marriage would remove the need entirely, something that could not disappoint her because it offered nothing beyond what was agreed.
Lord Harrowby stood where he had been before, his attention directed elsewhere. There was nothing in it to suggest he was aware of her observation, nothing to indicate that she had been considered at all.
If he required a wife, someone capable of maintaining his household, of fulfilling the expectations attached to his position, then she could do that. Eleanor’s lips curved slightly, though there was no real amusement in it.
Anne’s voice broke gently into her thoughts.
"You are very quiet."
Eleanor turned back to her, her expression mellowing.
"I was thinking," she said.
"Heaven help us all."
"Actually, I have been most reasonable with my thoughts."
Anne studied her for a moment longer.
"And what have you concluded?"
"That my troubles can be easily solved, if I so choose. Perhaps it is time for me to grow up, Anne."
Anne did not look convinced. Eleanor simply smiled, as though there was nothing further to be said. It was, she realized, the most sensible solution she had considered in a very long time.
At last, Lord Harrowby left the room, and after waiting for a moment she followed after him. There was every chance that he would reject her, but that was a risk that she was more than willing to take.
"You have abandoned your post," she joked as she saw him.
He was on a balcony, the moonlight brightening his hair. He did not turn at once, but she was convinced that she saw him bristle at her presence.
"I was not aware that I held one."
Eleanor stepped fully onto the balcony, letting the door close behind her with a soft click. The sound of the gathering dimmed immediately, and in spite of the circumstances Eleanor felt rather relieved.
"You were standing in precisely the right position to observe without participating," she said. "It seemed deliberate."