The Stubborn Miss Butler

4

author's note: that's how I imagined Eleanor up top, sorta.

They rode back in the buggy with Wade, chattering amongst themselves when a topic of interest came up. It seldom did, and the ride was short and silent for the most part. Wade has come back from New York with the latest gossip.

"Do you think I could visit you? In Connecticut, I mean?"

Beau held her hand and carried the packages they'd picked up at the general store in the other. Eleanor balanced on the fence post, leaning on Beau every now and then to keep her upright. Her skirts were hiked to her knees in a manner Mammy wouldn't appreciate, but neither of them thought to care.

Beau was taken aback by her question. It was absurd for him to imagine not seeing her for that many years, and it was even more startling for her to ask his permission. But he looked up at her frankly, squinting in the sunlight.

"Always."

And he meant it.

___________________

The week passed with startling quickness. Eleanor sat through dinners and retired to her room at night. She went with Beau to town every day, laughing to hide the fact that she was afraid of him leaving. Though, even she couldn't give herself a reason why.

"Eleanor, come now, darling!"

"Oh, I'm coming!" Eleanor hollered out her door hotly. She had rather come late than ugly to Margot Picard's birthday party. Everyone who was anyone was going to be there, and Eleanor would arrive fashionably late with Beau on her arm if need be.

Beau was waiting for her in the hall, the window behind him lit with moonlight.

"Why, you look awfully nice," Eleanor smiled away the consequent nerves from having to hurry. Nothing would ruin her mood. It was a party, after all.

Beau leaned against the stairwell in the foyer casually. His arm rested on the post, managing to keep his suit uncreased. It was a nice suit, she had to admit, the tailor did a mighty fine job. The subtle pin stripes accentuated his lean frame and golden hair. Speaking of which, she noticed that the gentle slopes of his face were framed by a combed, tidy head of waves fixed by Mammy.

"Come along, we're late already," Beau offered her his arm. She couldn't decipher the look on his face, but she didn't care much to investigate. She felt lighter than air in her warm yellow dress.

I am like the sun, she thought, le soleil.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye the whole way down the stairs and to the buggy. He was glad to have her on his arm tonight instead of waiting for her to be broken away from the cavalry of awaiting beaus. The part that stumped him was that she didn't even seem to notice. She didn't notice the way young men hovered and waited on her. She didn't even seem to notice that she was anything special at all.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" Eleanor's smile was amused as they walked up the front drive of the Picard's home.

Beau hung his head bashfully, a smile creasing his face, "Nothing. It's nothing at all..."

"It isn't my hair, is it? Oh hell, I'll get my hands on Ella if she-"

"No, no. It's...you look beautiful, Eleanor." There was something frank in his voice that piqued her interest. What did he find so funny?