Emberlight

Chapter Three

I

It was mayhem in the Purcell household.

Marianne, Michael and Eleanor were due to arrive at the club supper at nine o'clock, and the hand on the huge grandfather clock was already creeping towards half past. 

Aunt Louise and her husband had already left to attend the opera with their friends, and Georgiana and Neil were somehow fast asleep in their beds, despite all the commotion.

Marianne was darting around her dressing room, looking a vision in lilac, and was swatting away her maid's hands as she attempted to pin a stray hair in place. The air was thick with smoke and rose-scented perfume. She caught sight of Eleanor in the reflection of her dressing room mirror and grinned. 'I knew the light pink dress was the one, Elle! You look like an angel.' They'd spent most of the afternoon looking at her options, most of which Marianne had winced at and made her promise never to wear. 'We'll get you some new gowns at the first chance we get - you don't want to make your first appearances in town looking like a Renaissance farm girl.'

Eleanor stroked her her silky gown, relieved. She was aware that since moving to Bath and starting to eat properly again, she'd begun to fill out in the right places, and a rosy glow graced her cheekbones. Her hair was combed and pinned up, and the silver locket from her father hung gracefully around her neck.

Eager to escape the chaos of Marianne's dressing room, Eleanor descended the staircase to find Michael pacing fervently around the foyer. When he noticed her he stood still and straightened, agitation still etched into his features. 'Well, at least one of you is ready.' He held out his hand to her, leading her down the last large step. 'Tell me, did you ever hold any fancy gatherings in your country manor?'

Eleanor nodded. 'We did when Mama was still alive. She'd organise these huge grand feats in summer, where all the dancing and eating was outside in the sunshine. Father preferred quiet though. He'd only entertain a few guests in the sitting room.'

Michael grinned widely at her and ran a hand over his smooth chin, showing her the full intensity of his white teeth and shining blue eyes. Her cousin was clearly aware of his charming looks. Her mind flitted back to Marianne's comment about his antics with various girls about town.

'Summer feats and dancing, eh?' He chuckled. There was something unsettling about his tone. 'I'm afraid Bath doesn't offer much of that. City life presents far more interesting pursuits.'

As he spoke he pulled out a small silver box from his trouser pocket. From what Eleanor saw, it was carved with beautiful, intricate symbols, none of which she recognised. Despite seeming rather scuffed and dirty, it caught the light of the chandelier above and shone brightly. Michael held it in the air between them, regarding it like a precious museum exhibit. 'This, for example. Marianne despises it, but I'm sure you'd be more understanding, given who your father was.'

He looked back at her with a knowing smile, as if he expected her to realise his meaning. But Eleanor only knitted her brows together and frowned.

'What is it?'

Michael smile faded, appearing confused himself now. 'You don't know? How can you not know?'

Eleanor's bewildered reply was interrupted by the thudding of Marianne stepping down towards them, still preoccupied with smoothing out the satin of her dress. Within the blink of an eye the strange silver box had vanished back into Michael's pocket, and he cleared his throat loudly as he helped his sister down the last of the steps. He looked anywhere but in Eleanor's direction.

 'Finally. I'll never understand the eternity it takes for females to get ready. At this rate we'll arrive just as they are serving dessert.'