Windley Village, the Morning After the Wetherby Ball
Morning sun filtered through the heavy curtains in Eleanor Ashburn's bedroom and cast a soft, gold illumination across the room. She had hardly slept. Her mind, caught in the tangled web of the previous evening, buzzed with thoughts of Lord Braxton and Alexander Fairfax. The tension simmered between them, an undercurrent that she had sensed but could not quite name.
Eleanor sat at her dressing table, running a brush mechanically through her auburn hair as her mind replayed the night: Lord Braxton's words-*"You intrigue me, Miss Ashburn."*-the way he had looked at her, a puzzle he was determined to solve. There was Fairfax-so different from Braxton in every way, sharp, observant, and. dangerous in his unpredictability. He unsettled her, yet there was something about him that drew her in. A knock on the door yanked her out of her daydream. It was Isabel, already attired in a pale blue morning dress, her gold curls gleaming in the sunlight as she entered the room.
"Good morrow, Eleanor," Isabel said bright-eyed, sitting on the edge of her sister's bed. "You were awfully quiet last night, even more so than you usually are. I thought you'd have something to say about the ball."
Sighs
Eleanor smiled faintly, setting her brush down and turning toward her sister. "There's much to say, but I'm not entirely sure what to make of it all."
Isabel leaned her head to one side, her eyes alight with curiosity. "About Lord Braxton or perhaps Mr. Fairfax? You were seen speaking to both of them, and I could not help but notice. well, the air seemed almost thick between you three.
Eleanor let out a soft sigh, leaning back in the chair. "Lord Braxton is. unsettling. He speaks as though everything he says holds deeper meaning. He wants something from me, though I can hardly tell what it is."
Isabel frowned slightly, her brow furrowing in concern. "Do you think he's serious about you?"
Eleanor's eyes flashed towards the window; the roll of hills outside framed no answers. "I don't know. But whatever his aims, I don't trust them."
"And Mr. Fairfax?" Isabel's voice was softer now, more tentative. "You seemed. intrigued by him, at least a little."
Eleanor's face hardened at the mention of Fairfax. "Interested? Perhaps. But there is something about him that unsettles me. He is different from the other men at the ball, he does not play according to their rules, and for that alone, he is unpredictable. I can't seem to figure him out."
Isabel smiled wryly. "Sometimes the ones we cannot quite figure out are the ones who sometimes turn out to surprise us the most."
---
**Later That Morning: Ashwick Hall's Drawing Room**
The day was indolently unwinding in Ashwick Hall. The Ashburn household was still lethargic from the excitement of the Wetherby ball and moved at a snail's pace. Mrs. Ashburn, however, was scheming about her daughters' futures, her brain full of ideas.
She sat in the drawing room sipping her tea and had an almost triumphant air about her. "Eleanor," she started, without even bothering to look up from the letters she was perusing, "it is quite obvious that Lord Braxton has taken quite a serious interest in you. His attentions last night were unmistakable. You must capitalize on this opportunity."
Eleanor glanced up from her embroidery, across to her mother's face, her own impassive. "And what, pray tell, would you have me do, Mother? Throw myself at his feet in gratitude?
Mrs. Ashburn tutted, beyond exasperated with her daughter's sharp tongue. "Don't be ridiculous, Eleanor. You know what I mean. Lord Braxton is a man of influence and wealth. He could offer you everything-security, status, and life in comfort. You'd do well to encourage him."
As he turned back to her, his eyes narrowed. "Comfort, yes," Eleanor's lips twitched into a faint smile, husky and without warmth. "But at what cost?"
Before Mrs. Ashburn had even responded, Isabel fluttered into the room with her characteristic lightness, dispelling the discomfort that so often appeared to fall between Eleanor and their mother. "Lord Braxton isn't the only one with an interest in Eleanor," she teased, though her eyes darted significantly at her sister. "Mr. Fairfax seems to have taken quite a liking to her as well."
Mrs. Ashburn's face pinched up at the mention of Fairfax. "Mr. Fairfax?" she repeated, heavy skepticism lacing her tone. "He may be charming, but charm does not pay the bills, Isabel. He is of uncertain fortune, I hear. Not at all a suitable match for a girl of Eleanor's standing."
Eleanor's needle hesitated midway in its stitch, clutched a little too tightly in her fingers. "I have no wish to discuss my future with either of them, Mother," she said shortly. "And for the record, I do not intend to base my decision on the basis of only one factor: wealth.
Mrs. Ashburn raised a brow high on her forehead, her tone dripping with condescension. "Don't be naive, Eleanor. Love is a fine thing, but it does not feed a family or keep a roof over one's head."
Eleanor flashed her eyes to a mingling of frustration and defiance. "I am well aware of that, Mother. But I will not sacrifice my happiness in the name of convenience. You may wish for me to be some man's prize, but I have no desire to be any man's trophy."
Isabel looked from one to the other, her sunny disposition suddenly overcast by the increasing animosity. "Perhaps we should take a walk, Eleanor. It's a beautiful day and some fresh air might do us all some good."
Mrs. Ashburn huffed but waved them off. Obviously, she wasn't in the mood to continue arguing. "Do as you please. But remember, Eleanor, opportunities like this do not always come. Do not be foolish enough to squander it."
---
**That Afternoon: The Encounter with Alexander Fairfax
The Ashburn sisters strolled through the gardens that stretched behind Ashwick Hall, the sweet scent of blooming flowers filling the air. The grounds on the estate were immense, with tall oak trees and lawns manicured to perfection. It was an oasis, where the pressures from the expectations that came along with society could almost be forgotten.
Almost.
"I don't know how you manage it," Eleanor said softly as they strolled. "Mother's constant scheming, the endless pressure to marry well. It's exhausting."
Isabel looked over at her sister, her expression sympathetic. "I've learned to let it wash over me. Mother means well, in her own way. But I know it's harder for you. You've always wanted more than what's expected of us."
Eleanor let out a sigh and pushed one stray curl back behind her ear. "Maybe that is the problem, I don't fit into this life that's been mapped out for me."
Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a figure coming up the path toward them. Eleanor's breath caught in her throat as she recognized him: Alexander Fairfax, striding toward them with that same air of casual confidence which had unnerved her the night before.
"Miss Ashburn," he said to her, his voice smooth but tinged with something more-amusement, perhaps? Or was it challenge? "I didn't expect to see you out here today."
Slightly, Eleanor's eyes narrowed. "Nor I you, Mr. Fairfax. What brings you to our estate?"
He smiled-but it never quite reached his eyes. "I was in the area, and thought I might enjoy a walk. Imagine my surprise to find such pleasant company along the way."
Isabel, ever the gracious hostess, smiled warmly. "You're welcome to join us, Mr. Fairfax. We were just enjoying the gardens."
Fairfax's gaze moved from sister to sister and landed on Eleanor. "I would be delighted," he repeated, but the voice gave away how little interest he had for the gardens.
As they strolled, the conversation was light, though Eleanor could feel the tension beneath the surface. Fairfax was unnerving-he had a way of looking at her as if he saw right through the mask she wore for society's sake. It was disarming, and Eleanor found herself bristling under his scrutiny.
"You seemed rather. distracted at the ball last night, Miss Ashburn," Fairfax remarked after a moment, his tone casual, though probing. "Was it Lord Braxton's company that left you so deep in thought?"
Eleanor's lips tightened, though she refused to rise to the bait. "I find many things at such events leave me deep in thought, Mr. Fairfax. It's a fascinating study of human behavior, wouldn't you agree?"
Fairfax's smile deepened infinitesimally. "Indeed. But some behaviors prove more interesting than others."
One of those silence fell, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Isabel, feeling the change in atmosphere, jumped in to forestall the discomfort. "Mr. Fairfax, have you been in Windley long? We've seen so little of you before last night."
FairFax's eyes darted to Isabel for a brief moment then back again to Eleanor. "Not long. I travel in earnest. I find I am ill-tempered to tarry in one place too long.".