Judging from his tone, she had obviously roused his ire with her accusations, but Eleanor didn't back down since her own ire had escalated. “Perhaps you did. You seem determined to interfere in our court ship.”
“What of yesterday? I was nowhere near Lazzara when he was pushed into the street.”
“You could have hired a pickpocket to assault him. And you were in a prime position just now to cause his fall.”
Damon returned the dagger-eyed look she was giving him with steel in his own. “There is only one problem, sweeting. I had nothing to do with any of his mishaps. You will have to look elsewhere for the culprit.”
Eleanor could see that he was angry. But she was furious herself to think Damon might be so set on spoiling her courtship that he'd deliberately endangered the prince.
“Of course you would deny it,” she returned in a fierce undertone, “even if you are guilty.”
When Damon pinned her with his gaze, she could feel the air crackling between them.
“Are you actually questioning my word?” he asked in a dangerous voice.
Realizing they were attracting attention from various bystanders, Eleanor lowered her own voice. “I don't know if I am or not. But clearly I cannot trust you to tell me the truth.”
“Eleanor,” her aunt suddenly interrupted. “Come, my dear, we should be going home.”
Damon was still regarding Eleanor with smoldering eyes. “This is not the place to be arguing,” he bit out. “We should continue this discussion in private.”
“We should not be speaking at all!” Eleanor practically hissed in return. She stepped away from him just as Mr. Geary concluded his examination.
“I do not believe any bones are broken, your highness,” the physician announced, “but you require care since you appear to have badly sprained your knee. You should be taken home at once and put to bed. I shall attend you if you wish.”
Lady Beldon spoke up immediately. “I will send for my own physician, Mr. Geary. You need not trouble yourself any further.”
The physician looked dubious, but he nodded. “You would do well to put cold compresses on your knee, your highness. And of course you must keep it immobile for a time.”
“We will see to his welfare, Mr. Geary,” Lady Bel-don insisted.
Signor Vecchi helped the prince to rise then and lent his shoulder for support. Still in severe pain, the injured nobleman limped onward with the aid of his relative.
“You came in Prince Lazzara's carriage, did you not?” Damon said tersely to Eleanor. “If need be, I will take you and your aunt home.”
She glanced sharply at him. “It is not necessary, my lord. You have done more than enough this evening. Indeed, I would be quite pleased if you would keep away from us all for the distant future.”
With that, Eleanor turned and followed the injured prince, feeling Damon's eyes boring into her back all the while.
Her frustration with Damon did not abate as she entered the prince's carriage with her aunt, although by the time the barouche had carried them to Port-man Place and deposited them on their doorstep, Eleanor's anger had calmed the slightest measure.
Perhaps she'd been mistaken to accuse Damon of such nefarious deeds, she reflected grudgingly as she followed her aunt upstairs to the viscountess's elegant suite of rooms. He might be a rake and a rogue, but that was a far cry from wishing to harm an innocent man merely for courting her, particularly when he himself had no claim to her.
The moment Eleanor was alone with her aunt in the sitting room, however, Lady Beldon made clear her own opinion of Damon.
“I dislike seeing you speaking to that wicked Wrexham, Eleanor,” Beatrix complained. “You needn't acknowledge him beyond the dictates of mere politeness.”
“You are right, of course, Aunt. I shall do my best to avoid all contact with him in the future.”
“Good. You do not want to give the prince any reason to think less of you. You should be encouraging his attentions whenever possible, and Wrexham's presence could very well hinder your courtship.”
“I am well aware of that, Aunt.”
Eyeing Eleanor, Beatrix pursed her lips in a thoughtful frown. “I expect it is only fair to tell you what Signor Vecchi says.”
“What does the signor say?”
The elder lady grimaced. “That the prince is something of a rake himself when it comes to women. Signor Vecchi hinted rather strongly that his highness might not make you a good husband. But then I put little store in such warnings. Prince Lazzara's birth and breeding are impeccable, and his fortune is magnificent. And as far as his personal affairs… well, he is likely no worse than many noblemen.”
Eleanor hid her own grimace. She had heard the gossip before, about the prince's reputation for profligacy, yet she had chosen to overlook it for now. Not, however, merely because she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. According to Fanny Irwin, some rakes could be redeemed by true love, so Eleanor was not ready to condemn the prince as a hopeless cause solely for his past. It might just be a matter of his meeting the right woman, one who could win his heart.
Herself, possibly? Eleanor wondered. If she could make Prince Lazzara love her, he might change his wicked ways for her sake. Even Damon might have done so two years ago, she reflected. If Damon had really loved her, surely he would not have turned to his mistress so shortly after becoming betrothed to her-
That painful thought was interrupted as her aunt continued briskly. “At least you will be able to advance your suit next week at my house party. And it will be good to repair to Rosemont where Wrexham cannot follow you.”
Eleanor had to agree wholeheartedly with that sentiment.
“I do so want it to go well,” Beatrix added with an odd note of wistfulness.
“I am certain it will. Your house parties are always splendid.”
“Signor Vecchi says he is anticipating the event with great relish.”
When Eleanor smiled at her aunt, Beatrix's cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. She looked years younger when she spoke of the Italian gentleman, Eleanor thought fondly.
“Do you think I am wrong to encourage his advances?” Beatrix asked uncertainly.
“No, dearest aunt,” Eleanor said softly. “I think you are very right to do so.”
“He has quite a gentle way about him. Unlike Bel-don, who was an insufferable bear when crossed…” Beatrix suddenly stiffened. “But enough of my late husband. Ring for my maid, Eleanor, if you please. I vow I am fagged half to death after all that drama of the prince's accident.”
Realizing that Aunt Beatrix was suffering a touch of embarrassment at having shared her innermost thoughts, Eleanor obeyed and bid good night, then made her way to her own bedchamber in the east wing.
Her aunt was lonely, although she rarely let herself show it, Eleanor suspected. It would be heartwarming to see the aloof, unemotional viscountess fall in love for the first time, or at the very least, find a gentleman whose friendship and companionship she could enjoy
Whatever happened, Eleanor added to herself as she shut her chamber door behind her, she hoped her aunt could find happiness, regardless of her own relationship with the prince.
Deciding against summoning Jenny since the hour was so late, Eleanor changed out of her gown and put away her undergarments. Yet as she performed her ablutions and prepared for bed, her thoughts returned to the evening at the theater and her ire started to rise again. It dismayed her that Damon seemed determined to spoil her opportunity for love.
But she would not allow him to interfere, Eleanor vowed as she donned her nightdress. She would proceed with her subtle pursuit of Prince Lazzara, and if Damon dared to intrude again… well, she would simply have to devise a plan to discourage him once and for all.
She had settled in bed to review another chapter of Fanny's advice book when she heard a slight noise from across the room.
Her heart gave a jolt when she looked up to find Damon's face at her open bedroom window.
Her jaw dropping, Eleanor watched in disbelief as he eased his broad shoulders through the window and hauled himself inside, then lowered his feet to the carpet.