Another Country by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf

CHAPTER NINE

Eleanor did not find a time to talk to Ian until several days later. His long hours at work and many social engagements--some of which Eleanor declined--left them with few evenings at home.

Finally, towards the end of October, Eleanor found herself in the sitting room with Ian across from her in front of the fire. It was a cozy, domestic scene, with the night falling outside and the rattle of branches against the window pane.

Inside the fire was cheering, the little room comfortable and warm. Of course, it was nothing like the elegant proportions of the Moores’ residence, but Eleanor was proud of the way she’d fashioned the rented furniture into something resembling a home.

“An excellent dinner, Eleanor,” Ian said as he opened the newspaper with a rustle of stiff pages.

It had been leftover mutton and potatoes, but Eleanor didn’t bother contradicting him. She prided herself on her economy, and the way she could make a few thin ingredients stretch to an appetizing, if not elegant, meal. It was a skill learned from childhood.

She picked up her sewing, reluctant to disturb the contentment of the evening. Then she put it down again. Disturb it she must.

“Ian... I wonder if you would be so good as to tell me your intentions towards Isobel Moore.”

She sensed rather than saw or heard Ian stiffen. Slowly he put down his newspaper. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ll tell you in a moment, if it seems appropriate,” Eleanor replied crisply. “Right now I wish you to tell me.”

“Eleanor...” Ian spoke warningly, then sighed. “I have no intentions.”

“You are not going to marry her?” Hope and a new compassion for Isobel flared within her.

Ian’s expression hardened for a brief moment. “No.”

“You might wish to apprise her of the fact--”

“It has not arisen!”

“Perhaps not with you, Ian,” Eleanor nearly snapped, “but it has with me!”

The silence was ringing. Ian put down his newspaper. “Isobel has spoken to you? About me?”

“She told me you were to be married, and I could gladly make my home with you once you were wed.”

“Good Lord!” Ian jumped up from his chair, raking a hand through his hair as Eleanor watched, strangely satisfied.

“I suspected you felt this way, but when Isobel summoned me...”

“She had no right!”

“And you, Ian, have no right to trifle with her affections.”

“I have never...!” Ian glared at her. “I have never given her reason to think...” he trailed off at Eleanor’s look of obvious skepticism.

“You think she’s mad, then?”

“Don’t be absurd.” Ian sank back down into his chair. “What should I do?” His legs stretched out, his mouth turned down in a pout, he looked like a sulky schoolboy.

“Ian, you cannot run away from your problems,” Eleanor said gently. “It didn’t solve them before, and it certainly wouldn’t now.”

“I’m not running away.”

“Aren’t you?” Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “Only yesterday you informed me you are planning to take the coach to Hartford for some business. Beyond the indelicacy of leaving me to my own means for several days or even

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