The Emerald Viscountess

~19~

"Don't ask," Eleanora said, bursting into Anthony's study as he was elbow deep in paperwork.

He looked her up and down quizzically with the halfdry painting in her hand. Before he could open his mouth to say anything, she hastily tossed the canvas into the lit fireplace, letting out a satisfied sigh, and threw herself into the nearby armchair.

"Benedict said the most ridiculous thing today," Eleanora started, out of breath.

Setting down his pocket watch, Anthony leaned forward in his desk chair. "He says a lot of ridiculous things," he smirked. "What did he say?"

"Firstly, suggesting me and Eloise to paint with him outside, but that's another can of worms," Eleanora rambled. "During our painting session, he brought up how well you thought of me when we were teenagers and how positively you would talk of me to your brother," she smirked.

Anthony let out a laugh. "He promised to me he'd never tell you that," he joked. "Now your perception of me is utterly ruined."

"Very much so," Eleanora agreed teasingly.

"You've got some paint . . ." Anthony pointed to his cheek and nodded to Eleanora. She wiped her fingers on her own cheek, but Anthony shook his head. "Let me," he insisted, pulling out his handkerchief and walking towards Eleanora. He knelt down in front of her, folded up some of the handkerchief and licked it.

"Anthony, that's simply foul!" Eleanora grimaced.

"Do you want the paint off your cheek or not?"

"I think it'll become my new staple," she smirked, watching Anthony as he meticulously tried wiping off the paint with his gentle touch.

Eleanora couldn't help but gaze into Anthony's brown eyes, forgetting how much depth they held and the emotions they possessed; they truly were the windows to the viscount's soul. The last time she really had a good look into his eyes was when they would cloudgaze outside of Aubrey Hall in their youth, and when Anthony was too focused on the clouds, she would turn over and watch him and look into his eyes in awe.

"So . . . it is all going well with Miss Edwina, I take it?" Eleanora asked, breaking the silence.

Anthony cleared his throat, finally done getting the paint off her cheek. He took a seat in the armchair across from her. "Extremely," he beamed.

"Did she mention pall mall? She did not appear to be having much fun," she recalled.

"Well, how could she have done? When the lot of you were downright gladiatorial out there?" the viscount pointed out.

Eleanora guffawed at the thought. "Granted, I am grateful that I finally had the pleasure of playing pall mall with you all. The experience was even better than I imagined."

"What, especially after seeing me covered in muck during the game?" Anthony teased.

"Possibly," she smirked.

"I was surprised Miss Edwina played for as long as she did," Anthony continued. "It is no matter . . . Miss Edwina did not need to win a silly game in order to win my heart."

Eleanora widened her eyes mockingly. "Who are you and what have you done with my best friend? Talk of winning your heart, simply unheard of."

"Nora . . ." he groaned, rolling his eyes.

"Has the season's diamond truly won your heart?"

"You met her. You've had tea with her, and you've met her family. She is delightful . . . and pleasant, and interesting. Even wise." Anthony looked up at Eleanora, taking note of her doubtful expression. "What exactly are your objections?"

"I never said I had any objections," Eleanora said, raising her hands in surrender. "If you say Miss Edwina is the one for you . . ." Before continuing her thought, she got up and wandered over to the library portion of the study, fingering through the multitude of volumes that lined the shelves. "If you say she is the one in whose presence you cannot properly think, or even - or even breathe. If you say you feel that feeling."

"Feeling?" Anthony repeated. He stood up and walked over to the bookshelves, standing beside Eleanora.

"The one that makes it impossible for you to look away from them at any given moment." Eleanora turned away from Anthony, suddenly deep in thought, feeling a connection to her own words. "When your . . . body and soul feel as if they could burst into flames whenever the two of you are near. When all you are able to do in their presence is to fight the urge to lean forward and . . ." Eleanora let out a short laugh. ". . . And touch their lips with yours."

As Eleanora was in her own world saying these words, Anthony continued to stare at her, hanging onto her every word and engulfed in the view of how her lips molded the words describing the feeling of true love.

She looked up, connecting her gaze to Anthony's who immediately averted his eyes from her lips. "If that is the feeling you have when you are with Miss Edwina, I am quite happy for you indeed, dear friend."