Chapter 25

It was hushed whispers that greeted Eleanor when she emerged downstairs with her mother after their talk. The voices were coming from the drawing room – those of her father and husband.

'I need to make sure you understand, Albert. I need your word that you will be silent on the matter.' Eleanor could not see them yet but Nathan's urgent yet subdued tone carried across to her.

'How many bloody times need I say I shall!' her father shouted. 'If it gets out, we shall all be ruined! Already, London is awash with the news. Why do you think we've come?'

'Well, Papa, seeing as your daughter is Indian, I cannot see how you can be any more ruined than you are now,' Eleanor said from her standing at the door, interrupting the dialogue.

'Eleanor!' her father exclaimed, jumping up from his perch at the settee, his eyes widening. Nathan followed suit, smiling in her direction, his eyes flicking to the small swell at her stomach before going back up to her face. Eleanor felt her heart miss a beat as he did so.

'Hello, Papa,' she said quietly, wrenching her eyes away from her husband to her father. Her father did not look well. Contrary to her mother's exquisite appearance, her father was a sore sight for the eyes. Over the last few months, he had lost quite a lot of weight and his clothes hung on his wiry frame. His hair hardly had anymore brown hairs, there were black bags under his eyes and the number of wrinkles which had marked his face had increased drastically. Eleanor's heart clenched at his appearance but she made no remark.

'My, darling, you're glowing!' her father exclaimed, a brilliant smile upon his face, reaching out. Eleanor forced a smile onto her face and returned the embrace. She wrinkled her nose at the onslaught of the putrid stench of ale and cigars that clung to her father. She did not think he was in his cups right now but he had definitely indulged quite a few times the past few months from the looks – or rather, stench – of it.

'Pregnancy suits you,' her father continued, drawing back and looking her up and down.

'Thank you, Papa,' she said. 'And how are you? Have you been keeping well?'

'Of course, of course!' he remarked, brushing the topic aside and drawing her to sit her down on the settee. 'But how are you, my dear? We have so much to discuss.'

'Heavens, Albert, don't smother the girl,' her mother interrupted quickly, drawing him aside. 'Think of the babe.'

'Right, of course!' Her father drew back, looking back and forth at her and her stomach. He seemed to have a nervous energy about him and Eleanor was sure he was hiding something.

'Papa, what were you and the duke talking about when I entered?' she asked in a low voice. Nathan was conversing with one of the footmen in low tones at the other end of the room and he too seemed to be nervous as his eyes darted everywhere about him.

'Nothing!' her father said, with a little too much enthusiasm and quite loudly as well.

'It could not have been nothing,' Eleanor replied, feeling a frown mar her face. 'What matter was it that Nathan wanted discrete? Is it the matter of us aiding the rebellion? Mother said London is abound with rumours.'

'Ah yes,' her father agreed, nodding his head resolutely. 'The duke would obviously not want those suspicions confirmed. That is all he meant.'

Eleanor pursed her lips, feeling troubled. If the rumours had brought her parents here then surely, the situation was quite bad back in London. They really were in a rather perilous condition.

'Well, surely, if there is no proof, maybe there is a way to squash the rumours,' she said hopefully, looking to Nathan who had finished conversing with the footman and was sitting down opposite her on the chaise. 'You are a duke; surely people will believe you over the words of a disreputable marquess such as Gresham.'

'It does not matter. Currently, my weight does not hold over Gresham. I have married an Indian.' He raked a hand through his hair. 'If the very idea of marrying a Scot drives people into a frenzy, an Indian has only made matters worse.'

He was being frank, Eleanor knew. He was merely stating the cold, hard truth. Why then, did his words hurt more than it should have, especially if those of the ton had long since had an any effect on her?

'You are right, Your Grace,' her father added with a glance at Eleanor. 'When I first adopted Eleanor, people snubbed me for years. It was a scandal. It was only when the next one came along that the ton moved on. But I never have regained my standing in society.'

Another truth. Another stab to the gut – at least that's how it felt for her. Maybe the baby had a hand in her worsening emotions.

'Nathan, what about the heist we pulled at Gresham's manor?' she asked, hoping to detract herself from gut-wrenching thoughts. 'Did you really not procure a single source of information, maybe a ledger, that can incriminate him?'

'A heist? Wolverhampton!' her father bellowed, his face growing redder by the second, and waggled a finger at Nathan's face. Eleanor was perturbed by the sudden shift in her father's mood which did nothing to ease her own. 'You cannot mean to tell me that you took my daughter – your wife – on a bloody heist!'

Nathan seemed unfazed as he gazed back at her father with a cool look on his face. 'I did not take her. She came with me of her own volition. I do not discriminate on sex, Salford. Eleanor was perfectly capable. I do not see why you are angry at me.'

Salford started to sputter and Eleanor was sure she could see steam coming out of his ears. Strange. She thought that was merely a writer's trick.

'And no, my dear,' Nathan continued, reverting his gaze to her. 'His security was incredible and it did not bode well with us that he knew we were coming from the start, thanks to Ram.'

Eleanor managed a small smile on her face, however much her feelings were contradictory to the former. 'Well, I am certain we shall still find a way out of this.'

Nathan smiled fondly in reply and reached out to clasp her hand in his. 'We most certainly shall.'

**********

After they got her parents settled into their rooms – her father still complaining that heists were not for gently-bred women and her mother seeming to have resigned herself to the fact that her adopted daughter was starting to portray the savage traits of her ancestors – Nathan retired to his study to discuss business and Eleanor, to her table to write a response to Gabby. In the midst of the hustles and bustle around the baby, it had completely slipped her mind and she must do so now with haste.

Her thoughts were warbled as she began composing the letter.

Lady Gabrielle Addington

Addington Manor

London

10 October, 1875

Gabby,

Words cannot express how sorry I am that I have not replied until now. It has been little more than a month since your letter arrived and so much has happened since then which have prevented me from writing. Of course, that should not be a hindrance when writing to you!

Gabby, let me be blunt. Your fiancée is not who you think he is. In fact, I have made his acquaintance and he is the last man that would be worthy of you, darling.

You must hate me now. No – you must revile me for speaking ill of your fiancée when you have certainly heard the rumours abounding the duke and I. Let me be the one to say that they are all true. I do not think, for one second, that you would show this letter to the world – in fact, I think you shall burn it (I vehemently hope that you will)! But, Gabby, the duke's work is important. I have seen the plight of the people here, however briefly. They are people too – they are my people. And I am not sorry for supporting my husband in his efforts. I haven't helped as much as I should have but intend to right that soon. But Gabby, the people here – imagine if your worth was measured based on the colour of your skin. It is not as if the people are savages, they are just different. I am different. And yet I am the same as you. It just a matter of upbringing.

Aside from all that, however, I implore you to call off the wedding. The marquess is thoroughly despicable, has no care for how he addresses a lady and has threatened not just my husband but me as well! Moreover, he is broke, my dear. His main intention in tying himself to you is to use your dowry. However, he still requested a loan from my husband.

Gabby, you must be cursing me to high heaven as you read this. And while you think me a hypocrite and that the duke and I are traitors against England, not aiding this revolution makes us traitors against humanity. Please believe me when I tell you that Gresham is in dire straits and you will be harmed in the ensuing war as well.

Wishing you well,

Eleanor Mary Huntington

Duchess of Wolverhampton

Eleanor had contemplated letting Gabby know about her baby but had decided against it. This was not the letter to mention that in. Resolved in her decision, she sealed the letter and went downstairs to Nathan's study to keep with the rest of the letters to post.

'You seem tensed, darling,' she remarked with a gentle smile as she closed the study door behind her and gazed at him. Nathan had his head in his hands as he perused documents laid out in front of him and his cravat lay on the floor a few feet away. He glanced up at her arrival and his face seemed to tense even more before breaking into a wry smile. Of course, Eleanor knew better than to think she was responsible for her husband's uneasiness.

'I am worried for you,' he said in response and sighed.

'Worried for me?' she exclaimed. 'I am Indian. I have been used to taunts and insults since birth! If anyone should be worried, it should be me for you! You are married to me, as well, after all.'

'Marrying you is one thing – you are gently bred even if your ancestry is Indian. You are not a savage. Aiding the revolution is a completely different matter altogether.'

'They are not savages, Nathan!' she shouted. 'They are people!'

'I know that!' Nathan retorted, a furious glint in his eyes. 'We know that! But that is not what people will think once word gets out!'

Eleanor stiffened. 'I thought word was already out.'

Nathan gazed at her and a look of guilt crossed his eyes. 'Of course, it is,' he muttered before looking away and returning to the documents in front of him. I have work to do, Eleanor. I'll talk to you later.'

Eleanor flinched at his words. He was dismissing her. He had never dismissed her before.

Hell would freeze over before he dismissed me like chattel.

'I want to meet the people,' she said, ignoring him and taking the seat in front of him.

Nathan glanced up wearily. 'What people, Eleanor?'

His look hurt. His words hurt. She seemed to be getting hurt a lot today.

'The people, Nathan. The people you help. I want to see them, meet them, know exactly what is going on. I want to aid the rebel –'

'It is not so easy that you can traipse into a house and demand to meet the occupants!' Nathan shouted, cutting her off. 'Especially not in your present condition! You could get hurt.'

Eleanor's eyes went wide as his words washed over her. Surely, he was ill in the head, the way he was shouting. 'Nathan, I am in the family way. That is all there is. Millions of women before me have been in the family way before and worked in horrible conditions, in gruelling heat – I doubt people would shoot at me!'

'When you walk into a room, what do you think people will see?'

Eleanor was taken aback. 'Why, they would see a woman of colour in an Englishwoman's dress.'

Nathan nodded. 'That is what a Sassenach would see. An Indian would see one of their own in fine clothes and good health – something most of them do not possess. All of them would want to be you. And the majority would want you dead – they would think you abandoned all that you knew for a chance at wealth.'

Eleanor did not know how to reply to that. She supposed he was right. She could see why they would think that – she was lucky to not have been left in the rubble all those years ago. She would have probably died soon had her father not taken her. But what if her birth father had not even taken her to that fight, daft man that he was, bringing a babe to such a place? She would have grown up in poverty, possibly growing to resent anyone in better straits than her. She could understand that.

'Nevertheless,' she persisted, 'I believe I should also meet them. Particularly the women; there are some things a woman would be more comfortable telling another woman than a man. Maybe I could gauge some secrets – women know far more than men but keep it to themselves in fear of their husbands and fathers and brothers –'

'Eleanor, I hardly think the women are harbouring great secrets that can change the fate of the revolution.'

'You never know!' she replied, indignant. 'What if they work as maids at a manor that just so happens to belong to someone that works for the Viceroy? A little money thrown their way and they might possibly spill everything! It happened with ram, did it not?'

Nathan blew an exasperated breath. 'Eleanor, while your proposal holds merit, I fail to see what secrets a woman could be privy to. Yes, Ram turned sides when money was thrown this way but he is a man and as a man –'

Eleanor started as Nathan stopped in his tracks and a growing realisation lighted his eyes and he stood up abruptly. 'Eleanor.' He walked to her and grabbed her face before crushing his lips to her. Eleanor responded back greedily, grabbing his lapels in an effort to keep steady. The kiss was hard but gentle, as if he were showering her with the sun, the stars and the whole damn universe. He had forgotten all his anger as well, Eleanor realised. And she had forgotten hers too.

He drew back just as suddenly still gazing at her as if she was everything good in the world, as if she was the very air he breathed. She was being awfully poetic, she realised, but she could not help it. When her husband looked at her like that, how could she not?

'Eleanor, you are a genius!' he exclaimed before drawing away and grabbing his discarded cravat and hastily pulling it on.

'I am?' she asked in a daze, still reeling from the kiss.

'Yes!' He laughed. 'You said it yourself. Money can accomplish almost anything. If money drove Ram to Gresham – who is currently destitute – he would certainly out his secrets for a bit more gold, would he not?

Eleanor's eyes grew wide. It was brilliant. And rather stupid of the both of them to not have thought of it before.

'I have to go,' Nathan said, packing up documents and the like before striding with purpose towards the door.

'Where,' she asked quite stupidly.

'To see Ram.' Nathan turned back and Eleanor noticed how blue his eyes had become, almost cerulean. Suddenly he didn't look like a man of four and twenty. He looked like a man well into his forties, one who had seen the world and knew of its hardships – the grim determination on his face had transformed him.

'And when I return, we will not need to worry about Gresham any longer.' With those ominous words, he strode out, banging the door in his wake.

***********

Another chapter published after months despite promising to publish it in the next few days. I am proud, however, that I still haven't given up on this yet - AND I WON'T (for all those of you who have been asking).

I know I keep doing this but this time, I really do think I shall publish a chapter everyday - I am 99% sure.

See you tomorrow!