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it had all been so empty. So meaningless.
    “Joshua and I . . .” she repeated in a subdued tone, “we were— are! . . . great friends.”
    “So I see.”
    “Eleanor,” Lucy interjected, “you should come and speak to Mr. and Mrs. Smythe.”
    “Of course.” Keeping hold of Joshua’s arm, Eleanor slipped away from Beckworth and went toward the rest of the group, aware that her former fiancé was keeping her in his sights.
    “This might not be wise, Ellie,” Joshua said quietly. “Not in present company.”
    “Wisdom is not high on my list of attributes at the moment, Joshua.”
    “It ought to be,” he replied.
    Eleanor laughed bitterly. “No doubt there are others who think so, too. My aunt, for example.”
    “Ellie, what were you thinking, running off to Italy the way you did?”
    “I don’t want to speak of it, Joshua. Just do me a favor and help me get rid of Beckworth.”

 
    CHAPTER SEVEN

    Lucy looked at Eleanor with a shocked expression, and Joshua shot her a confused glance. “You want me to cause offense to a duke?”
    “It’s just Beckworth, and he is here only to annoy me. But if he believes you are and always were my suitor—”
    “Do you think that would be enough to send him packing?” Josh asked.
    “Of course. He only wants to make my life a misery in retaliation for abandoning him. If he knows you are—”
    “Ellie . . .” Josh shook his head.
    “Just go along with my ruse, and he’ll pack up his things and leave,” she said.
    “You’re wrong. This will not work.”
    “Of course it will.” Well, it might.
    Joshua sighed with resignation. “Fine, then. I will do what I can. For old time’s sake.”
    “Thank you. It should not take much.”
    Joshua shook his head. “I believe you are wrong. Your betrothal to Beckworth was said to be a love match, Ellie.”
    “Ha.”
    “It’s what all of society believed. Even I heard of your grand passion, and I hardly run in the same circles as you and Beckworth.”
    “I don’t run—”
    “A duke and his betrothed are hardly in the same strata as a country gentleman, as prosperous as he might be.”
    Eleanor found herself starting to pout, and corrected it. She looked him in the eyes. “It does not matter what he and I once were, but what we are now. Strangers at best. Adversaries at the worst.”
    “Really, my poor Eleanor,” Joshua said quietly. “You must have loved him very deeply for him to have hurt you so . . .”
    “Hurt me?” Eleanor said with indignation.
    “Of course,” Josh said gently. “Else why would you have run so quickly or so far?”
    Eleanor shrugged. “I was angry. That’s all.” She would not think about how much Beck’s betrayal had hurt, nor would she allow any of her friends to think it.
    “Have it your way,” Joshua said quietly. “I will give my all to the task of convincing your fiancé that our childhood romance has resumed.”

    Andrew felt like smashing in someone’s skull. But he was a civilized man. He was long past his school days and did not engage in fisticuffs when his own will was thwarted. If he did, he wouldn’t be in the midst of playing political games in order to get Sir Robert Peel’s bill through Parliament. Instead, he’d have sent out bullies to intimidate his adversaries into voting his way.
    Even so, there were a few mill owners he’d like to throttle for their greed and stupidity. And their interference. But for Clive Squeers and a few other mill owners like him, the bill already would have been passed into law.
    But Parris’s friendship with Eleanor was an unforeseen, frustrating complication. Andrew kept one eye on the two as they ambled away from the group, wishing she’d looked at him with such delight last night. It was clear he had a great deal of convincing to do. And now he had to compete with Parris while he did it.
    “Your Grace, ’tis a pleasure to meet you again,” said Lady Stillwater. “Won’t you take a seat here?”
    He preferred to stand