Chapter Forty-Five: The Return to Reality

The morning sun shone brightly over the sprawling Islington estate as the carriages pulled into the cobblestone driveway. The countryside air still clung to the returning guests, though the atmosphere was distinctly different. Their retreat to the lake house had been a breath of fresh air, but now, the rigid expectations of aristocratic life loomed over them once more. 

Catherine and Edmund had already departed for Darlington earlier in the morning, leaving Theo, Eleanor, Adrian, and Nicholas to make their way back to the Islington estate together. Eleanor, seated comfortably beside Theo in the carriage, wore a pair of fitted jeans and a soft blue top that accentuated her elegance while embracing modernity. Her hair was loosely tied back, a few strands framing her face. 

As the carriage rolled to a stop, Theo reached for her hand, helping her down with a warmth that hadn’t gone unnoticed by Adrian and Nicholas. Their disapproving glances were subtle, but Eleanor caught them nonetheless. 

“Welcome home,” Theo said softly to her, his voice carrying an undertone of affection. 

“Home,” Eleanor repeated, smiling as her eyes scanned the grand estate. While the structure was imposing, with its towering columns and perfectly manicured gardens, it was Theo beside her who made it feel welcoming. 

Inside, the Duke and Duchess of Islington waited, flanked by Adrian and Nicholas, who had already rushed ahead to update their parents. As Theo and Eleanor entered the grand hall, still hand in hand, a wave of tension filled the air. 

“Eleanor,” the Duchess began, her eyes widening as they landed on her daughter-in-law’s attire. She clasped a hand to her chest as though steadying herself. “What… what are you wearing?” 

Eleanor straightened her posture, though her calm smile never wavered. “Comfortable clothing, Duchess. I thought it appropriate for the journey back.” 

“Comfortable?” the Duke echoed, his brows furrowing. “Lady Islington, you are now a representative of this family. What will the staff think?” 

“The staff,” Theo interjected smoothly, his voice as calm as his wife’s demeanor, “will think nothing of it. They understand that Lady Islington is embracing change, as any forward-thinking individual should.” 

Adrian cleared his throat, stepping forward. “With respect, Theo, appearances matter. Her… choice of attire at the lake house was hardly befitting a Lady, and now this? What if—” 

“Adrian,” Theo interrupted, his tone cool but firm, “my wife was not being improper. She was adapting to the world as it is now, not clinging to outdated expectations. If anything, I commend her for her ability to balance tradition with modernity.” 

Nicholas, who had been silent until now, glanced at Eleanor. “It’s not that we don’t understand the need for change, but there are ways to do so gracefully—ways that don’t involve abandoning decorum.” 

Eleanor tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “And do you believe a woman’s grace is defined solely by the length of her gown or the restrictiveness of her corset?” 

Nicholas opened his mouth to reply but faltered, caught off guard by her directness. 

Before he could recover, the Duchess spoke again, her voice sharp. “Lady Islington, this family has maintained its reputation for generations. We expect you to uphold that standard, not undermine it.” 

Theo’s grip on Eleanor’s hand tightened, a subtle gesture of solidarity. “With all due respect, Mother, Eleanor is not undermining anything. She’s challenging the stagnation that threatens to make families like ours obsolete. If we do not evolve, we will be left behind.” 

The Duke’s face darkened, but he said nothing, clearly grappling with the weight of his son’s words. 

Eleanor took a step forward, addressing the room with poise. “I am proud to be part of this family, and I respect its traditions. But I will not compromise who I am to fit an outdated mold. If that makes me improper in your eyes, so be it.” 

There was a moment of stunned silence, broken only by the soft clink of Theo’s glass as he set it down on a nearby table. “Well said,” he murmured, his voice filled with pride. 

The Duchess’s expression was unreadable, though the slight tremor in her hands betrayed her unease. “Change,” she said finally, “is not an excuse for impropriety.” 

Eleanor met her gaze evenly. “And tradition is not an excuse for oppression.” 

The tension in the room was palpable, but Theo’s quiet chuckle diffused it slightly. “If nothing else,” he said, his eyes twinkling as he looked at Eleanor, “you can’t deny she’s a perfect match for me.” 

Eleanor smiled at him, her fingers lacing through his. “Thank you, Theo.” 

The Duke cleared his throat, clearly unwilling to pursue the matter further. “We will discuss this later,” he said stiffly, turning on his heel and leaving the room. 

The Duchess followed, though not without a lingering glance at Eleanor. Adrian and Nicholas exchanged looks but said nothing as they excused themselves as well. 

When they were finally alone, Eleanor let out a soft sigh, leaning into Theo’s side. “Well, that went better than expected.” 

Theo laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You were brilliant, Eleanor. As always.” 

“I just hope they’ll come around eventually,” she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty. 

“They will,” Theo assured her. “And even if they don’t, you have me—and Catherine and Edmund, for that matter. We’re in this together, my Lady Islington.” 

Eleanor smiled, her heart swelling with gratitude and love. “Thank you, Theo.” 

“For what?” 

“For being you,” she said simply, standing on her toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. 

He grinned, his hand resting on the small of her back as they began to ascend the staircase to their chambers. “And thank you for being you, Eleanor. Never change.” 

As they reached the top of the stairs, Eleanor glanced back at the grand hall below, feeling a renewed sense of determination. She had married into a world steeped in tradition, but she wouldn’t lose herself in it. With Theo by her side, she would navigate this new life on her own terms, one step at a time.