Eleanor still had not recovered from her recent shock when they began the long drive to London. She was still in love with Damon, heaven help her. Since the moment he'd reappeared in her life, she had fought her emotions, struggled to crush any lingering feelings she still held for him, to no avail.
And she had just compounded her error by making love to him and giving him her innocence.
Eleanor squeezed her eyes shut, assailed by regrets and self-recriminations. Now that their enchanted lovers’ spell was broken, she felt like an utter fool. She must have been mad to surrender to her yearning for Damon.
What in heavens name would she do now? She couldn't tell him how she felt, of course. It would be too hurtful when he rejected her love.
She had to get away from him, that much was certain. She was much too vulnerable to him now, loving him when her love wasn't returned.
Yet that wasn't the most urgent issue at the moment. Over a hundred people had watched them fly off into the skies together. They needed to decide how best to avert the possible negative repercussions. They couldn't discuss the matter just now in front of the farmer, however.
As for Damon, he remained mostly silent during the journey. Whenever Eleanor caught his eye, his enigmatic expression gave her no clue to what he was thinking or feeling, or if he was experiencing similar regrets.
Perhaps he was merely concocting a story to explain their long absence, she thought hopefully. By the time the farmer set them down in Portman Place in the early afternoon, they had been gone for nearly four hours.
“Damon,” Eleanor began in a low voice as he escorted her up the front steps of the Beldon mansion. “My aunt will doubtless be unhappy about today's mishap, even though it was beyond our control. I think we should emphasize that we were discovered shortly after we landed.”
Damon's expression remained inscrutable, although his tone was strangely nonchalant. “Allow me to deal with her, Elle.”
As it turned out, Eleanor was given little chance to comply. When they were admitted by a footman, her Aunt Beatrix came rushing into the entrance hall from the nearest parlor, as if she'd been waiting on pins and needles for any news of the lost aeronauts.
“Thank God!” Beatrix exclaimed, flinging her arms around Eleanor. “Oh, my dear girl, I was frantic with worry. I feared you might have been killed.”
Eleanor had never seen her aunt so agitated or so effusive in her display of affection, either. “The danger was not as grave as it might have been, Auntie. Lord Wrexham safely navigated the balloon to land in a field, and then we were rescued by some farmers.”
At the mention of Damon's name, Beatrix stiffened and drew back, the profound relief on her face turning to disdain as she shifted her attention to him.
“I am grateful to you, sir,” she said haughtily, “but I cannot forgive you. This calamity never would have happened had you not included yourself in our outing.”
“It was hardly his lordship's fault,” Eleanor hastened to point out. “Someone released the balloon's tether before Signor Pucinelli could join us in the gondola.”
The elder lady frowned. “So I am told. Pucinelli was horrified that you were onboard and has apologized profusely. He believes one of his crew was the culprit, but the villain cannot be questioned since he has disappeared. Still, that does not excuse what Lord Wrexham did.” She sent Damon a baleful glare. “This is the second time you have dragged my niece's good name through the muck, but this time she will be utterly ruined. Your disappearance together is already the talk of the ton.”
Eleanor opened her mouth to defend Damon, but her aunt continued lamenting in despair. “This is beyond appalling, Lord Wrexham. Eleanor will be shunned from polite company, and I will never be able to hold up my head again-and you are to blame, sir. You are the worst sort of scoundrel. No lady is safe around you-”
“You are quite wrong, Lady Beldon,” Damon interrupted her tirade coolly. “I assure you, Lady Eleanor is completely safe with me. And I am prepared to make amends at once.”
“What do you mean, make amends?” Beatrix repeated, her tone scornful.
“I will wed her immediately, of course. We will be married by special license as soon as I can make the arrangements.”
Eleanor felt her heart jolt. “I beg your pardon?” she rasped, gazing blankly at Damon.
Aunt Beatrix raised a hand to her temple, as if pained by even having to consider such an alternative. But after a long hesitation, she nodded grimly. “I fear he is right, Eleanor. As much as I dislike the idea of your taking this rogue for your husband, there is no hope for it. Marriage is the only way to salvage your reputation.”
“No, Aunt,” Eleanor exclaimed, her voice breathy with panic. “Surely there is no need for such drastic measures.”
“If I may, Lady Beldon,” Damon said, “I would like to speak to your niece in private, to make her see reason.”
Eleanor did indeed want to speak to Damon alone, but it was to make him see reason. Thus, when her aunt looked ready to object to a private tete-a-tete, Eleanor forestalled her. “A capital idea, my lord.”
Turning without another word, she led him from the hall to the nearest parlor, and after shutting the door firmly, faced him.
“What do you mean, announcing your intention to wed me?” Eleanor said at once. “Is that your misguided notion of dealing with my aunt?”
“Yes,” Damon replied mildly. “Your aunt is right, Elle. There is no hope for it. We must marry.”
Eleanor stared at him. “How can you possibly treat this disaster so cavalierly?”
“I am not treating it cavalierly. But no amount of protesting will change the urgency of our circumstances.”
Panic stabbing her, she lashed out at him. “My aunt is right. This would never have happened had you not insisted on spoiling the prince's courtship.”
Damon held up a hand. “If you're going to tear a strip off me, you will have to wait until later. If I leave now, I will have time to apply for a special license, so we can hold the ceremony tomorrow morning.”
Eleanor regarded Damon in disbelief. “We won't be holding a ceremony tomorrow morning or at any other time! I won't be forced into a holy union that will last for all of our days when there is no love between us.”
“You have no choice, Elle. We went too far. Not only did I compromise you, I took your virginity.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Your aunt would be even more appalled to learn that small detail, wouldn't you agree?”
She eyed him warily. “You wouldn't dare tell her.”
“I might, since it would make her even more adamant about insisting upon our marriage to avert a scandal.”
“I knew you were devious,” she ground out between her teeth.
“Perhaps, but you will marry me.”
Eleanor clenched her fists in frustration, fighting against acknowledging the truth of his argument.
She was angry at herself also for getting into this deplorable situation. She had wanted a love match, yet she'd totally destroyed that option now. If she hadn't made love to Damon this morning, she might have tried to weather the coming storm. But she could hardly claim that her reputation had been unfairly tarnished because nothing had happened when she was alone with him.
Dread filling her, Eleanor raised a hand to her brow. She would have a husband who didn't love her, a certain recipe for heartbreak. She was in love with Damon when he didn't return her affection in the least.
“I cannot believe you are so insistent about making amends for compromising me,” she said weakly. “You don't give a fig about what society thinks about you-you never have.”
“But I care what is thought about you. And I mean to protect you by making you my viscountess. You will be ruined otherwise.”
“I could always move to the Continent and enter a convent,” Eleanor muttered.
His quick smile indicated how absurd he considered her threat. “You are wholly unsuited for the existence of a nun, Elle. A woman with your passion, your hunger for life, shouldn't be locked away beyond the walls of a convent. We just proved that this morning.”
When she stood there regarding him in dismay, Damon stepped closer. Reaching up, he curved his strong fingers gently about her cheek. “You could be carrying my child. Have you thought of that?”
Eleanor's hand stole to her abdomen. No, she hadn't thought of it, although she should have.
“We don't love each other,” she repeated, grasping at straws.