Previously
Eleanora Winter, a doctor in Oakbridge, treats a local hostess while high-society ladies gossip about the handsome but notoriously rude Killian Blackwell. Later, Eleanora encounters Killian in Highbury as he is about to insult Miss Beaumont and intervenes by dragging him to his carriage under the guise of medical necessity.
A year and a half had passed since the war came to an end.
The tranquil oak woods, the warm sunlight filtering through the canopy, the emerald blades of grass glistening beneath, and the vigorous rush of the sparkling river… Everything in Oakbridge seemed more peaceful than ever.
Eleanora was a doctor so renowned that no one in town was a stranger to her name.
She was beloved by impoverished townsfolk who struggled to afford medical care, as well as by ladies who felt too bashful to consult male physicians.
Nor was her popularity confined to her craft alone. Whenever something went awry, the townsfolk invariably sought her out.
Today was no different; she had spent her entire day not treating patients, but deciphering complicated official documents for the elderly.
The moment Eleanora stretched out to rest her weary frame, a groan slipped from her lips—one thoroughly unfitting for a young lady her age.
She was utterly exhausted.
At times, she could scarcely tell whether she was a doctor or a town counselor.
( ‘Still, this is far better than running about ragged because there are too many sick folk.’ )
Though the work did not earn her much coin, the bread, fruit, and fabric brought by the townspeople went a long way, leaving her with no trouble making ends meet.
Her only real worry was…
‘I’ve reached a marriageable age myself.’
How long would she remain on her own?
Was she destined to live out her days alone?
Still, she longed to spend her life alongside someone kind.
Someone tenderhearted, just like Julian had been back then.
( ‘S-Stay away from Eleanora!’ )
Eleanora recalled that small back standing firm to shield her when she was being cruelly bullied in their childhood.
And just as a faint smile touched her lips…
Bang—!
A sudden, deafening noise rang out. Eleanora gasped, clutching her chest, and sank to the floor in sheer fright.
A man burst inside, having thrown open the door with enough force to nearly tear it off its hinges.
It was Julian, her childhood friend.
Upon seeing Eleanora seated on the floor, his eyes widened in terror, and he rushed toward her.
Eleanora caught her breath with difficulty, rose to her feet at last, and shot him a sharp glare.
Julian’s eyes darted every which way before the corner of his mouth curved into an awkward grimace.
Standing there like that, he looked for all the world like a massive, golden-coated dog that had been scolded and was nervously gauging reactions.
( ‘How can he look so much like a puppy?’ )
If only she could reach out, ruffle that unruly hair, and pat his head…
She used to do it constantly when they were little, but now that they were grown, she could no longer indulge.
Julian gave a sheepish laugh and spoke.
Baroness Blackwell. One of the wealthiest figures in the realm today, so much so that she was dubbed the Queen of Money.
Eleanora had been utterly shocked when she first learned that Julian was distantly related to such an affluent lady.
It had been a very long time since she received an invitation like that.
When they were children, Julian had always insisted she be his partner at any gathering or event.
Yet ever since she entered the university, he had only ever asked Clara to accompany him, leaving Eleanora with a quiet pang of sadness deep down.
That lovely flutter of anticipation vanished from Eleanora’s chest the moment she heard his words.
Julian avoided her gaze and scratched the back of his neck.
Eleanora’s eyes wavered at the sudden admission.
Julian continued with a miserable look on his face.
Julian’s cousin was already eight-and-twenty years old. At that age, it would hardly be surprising if a man was wed and had a child of his own.
Curiously enough, however, he had never even been formally betrothed.
Dreading that her only grandson might remain a bachelor for the rest of his days, the Baroness had sought out a most suitable match.
Vivian, daughter of Count Ashford, residing in Oakbridge.
She had just turned twenty, the sole daughter of the Ashford family. Which meant her future husband would inherit the noble title.
If the two married, the lady’s noble title would wed the gentleman’s staggering wealth, creating a match worthy of high society.
However…
Julian sighed heavily.
Though the Ashford family was not exceedingly wealthy, neither were they drowning in debt to the point of needing Baroness Blackwell’s fortune.
Because of that, the Count preferred, above all else, that Lord Blackwell court and propose to his daughter himself.
In other words, if the Thorne family wanted financial support, they had to help orchestrate the marriage of a fully grown man.
If that was the case…
Eleanora grew grave. He was the grandson of House Blackwell itself, yet he needed outside help to arrange a marriage?
Julian hesitated for a moment before pressing on.
Eleanora felt utterly bewildered. Just how awful could a man’s temper be for the Baroness to propose such a bargain?
More to the point…
Eleanora’s gaze turned sharp. A cold sweat broke out across Julian’s face, and he hurriedly looked away.
Eleanora let out a deep sigh.
Julian abruptly took Eleanora’s hand.
Julian’s eyes shimmered with earnest pleading.
All at once, Eleanora felt her hand burning hot.
She lowered her chin, exhaled a long, measured breath at last, and spoke.
Julian sprang forward and threw his arms around Eleanora in a fierce embrace. The moment she was trapped against him, her heart thudded wildly.
‘It seems he still thinks we’re children!’
Eleanora was so thoroughly flustered that she forgot how to breathe.
Julian, meanwhile, was smiling in sheer, blissful innocence.
Ah, honestly… An unrequited love was dreadfully unfair.