Chapter Fifteen: A Proposal in the Making

Eleanor woke the next morning with the weight of the previous night’s thoughts still lingering in her mind. She hadn’t quite found peace in her slumber, her dreams filled with fleeting glimpses of Theodore’s gaze, his touch, the soft sound of his voice whispering promises she wasn’t yet ready to understand. As she dressed in the morning light, her thoughts returned to him again.

She couldn’t deny the pull she felt toward him. Theodore Blackwood, the son of the Duke and Duchess of Islington, had captured her attention like no other man before him. He was charming, daring, and, despite the perfect exterior of a polished aristocrat, there was a fire in him—a quiet rebellion that seemed to match her own hidden yearnings. It was that fire that had ignited something deep within her, something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel for years.

And yet, there was still the question lingering at the back of her mind: Was this real? Or was it just a fleeting infatuation, something forbidden and dangerous, born out of the thrill of rebellion?

As she descended the grand staircase into the formal sitting room of her family’s estate, her parents were already waiting, her mother seated with an air of quiet expectation, her father pacing the length of the room as he often did when he was deep in thought. It was clear they wanted to speak with her, and Eleanor had a sinking feeling that this conversation would not be one of those pleasant chats about upcoming social events or the latest gossip from town.

“Good morning, darling,” her mother greeted her, her voice a soft blend of warmth and authority. “You look radiant today.”

Eleanor smiled politely, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She had a feeling her parents were going to address the matter that had been at the forefront of their minds for weeks: Theodore Blackwood.

“Good morning, Mother, Father,” she replied, taking a seat on the chaise lounge across from them.

Her father, who had been pacing near the large window overlooking the manicured gardens, turned to face her. “Eleanor,” he began, his voice measured, “we would like to have a serious conversation about a matter that has come to our attention.”

Her heart quickened. She knew what was coming, but she steeled herself against the anxiety creeping up her spine. This conversation was inevitable.

“Is this about Theodore?” she asked, keeping her tone calm despite the storm of emotions brewing inside her. She had known that her parents would eventually bring him up—her feelings for him were becoming too obvious to ignore.

Her mother’s gaze softened slightly, but her father’s face remained unreadable.

“Yes,” her father replied, his voice stern but not unkind. “We’ve been watching you both closely these past few weeks, and we would like to hear your thoughts on the matter. Your feelings, Eleanor.”

Eleanor swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. She had never been one to hide her emotions, especially from her parents, but this was different. This was not just about a passing attraction or the thrill of a flirtation—it was something deeper, something that could change her life forever.

She glanced at her mother, who was watching her with an inscrutable expression, and then back at her father. She took a deep breath before speaking.

“I am… interested in him,” she said quietly, the words feeling like they had weight beyond their simplicity. “I enjoy his company, and I respect him, Father. He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. He understands the expectations of our world but does not let them define him. There’s something… genuine about him, something I don’t often find among men of our station.”

Her mother nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. “We’ve seen how he treats you, Eleanor. He’s attentive, respectful, and he listens. Those are qualities we value highly.” She paused for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. “He also comes from a family of good standing. The Blackwoods have always been highly regarded, both for their wealth and their position in society.”

Eleanor met her mother’s gaze, her heart beating a little faster. “But that’s not all that matters to me,” she said softly. “I know he comes from a prestigious family, but I am not just looking for a man who fits our social standing. I want someone who sees me for who I am, not just as the daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Kensington.”

Her father’s lips twitched slightly, as if he were holding back a smile, but his expression quickly returned to its usual sternness. “We’ve seen how he treats you, Eleanor,” he repeated. “And we agree that he is an admirable young man. We’ve had our reservations, of course—about his unconventional ways, perhaps—but he seems to be everything a young woman of your station could wish for. He comes from good stock, has ambition, and, most importantly, seems to care for you.”

Eleanor looked down at her hands, her heart swelling with a mixture of emotions. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to fully admit just how much Theodore had come to mean to her in such a short time. Yet, hearing her parents’ approval stirred a sense of relief in her, even if it felt strange to feel such relief at something that had, until recently, seemed so unimportant to her.

“You’ve known him better than I have, Father,” she said cautiously, her voice still soft. “What do you think?”

Her father’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the mask of aristocratic indifference slipped away. “I think he is a good match for you, Eleanor. A man of principle, of position. A man who knows what he wants and is not afraid to pursue it. He’s not without his own faults, of course, but no one is. And, despite his youth, he seems to be a man of substance.”

Eleanor felt her pulse quicken at his words. Was this really happening? Was she really hearing her father approve of Theodore in such a way? It was everything she had ever hoped for, and yet, the idea of a future with him still filled her with uncertainty.

Her mother placed a hand on her father’s arm, her voice gentle but firm. “Eleanor, we believe this is a promising match. It’s time to move forward with the next step.”

Eleanor’s eyes widened. “Next step?” she repeated, not fully grasping the meaning of her mother’s words.

Her father, his face now filled with the gravitas of his position, nodded decisively. “We’ll be speaking with the Duke and Duchess of Islington, Eleanor. A proposal will be made. It is time to solidify this arrangement and begin the process of marriage.”

Eleanor’s breath caught in her throat, her mind racing as the implications of her parents’ words sank in. A proposal. A marriage. Her marriage.

“Do you…” she began, her voice wavering slightly, “do you think I am ready for this?”

Her mother gave her a warm, reassuring smile. “You are ready, Eleanor. You’ve always been ready. And Theodore Blackwood is a man who will treat you with the respect and admiration you deserve.”

The weight of their approval settled on her shoulders like a mantle, and yet, beneath it all, Eleanor couldn’t help but wonder: was she truly ready for this path? Could she embrace the life her parents had so carefully planned for her, even as she felt a growing connection with Theodore, a bond that went beyond duty and propriety?

As the conversation continued, Eleanor’s mind swirled with questions, doubts, and hopes for the future. But one thing was clear—her life was about to change, and nothing would ever be the same again.