Yuletide Pairings | Charles & Eleanor
Eleanor’s first reaction to the name on the small slip of paper was that it was not, thankfully, Robert Persimmons.
Her second reaction was to turn to the priestess and ask if she might draw a different name. She could see Maria’s completely appalled face out of the corner of her eye as the priestess replied with a forceful whisper of no.
The Acton family was not one who the Turners found themselves associating with often, if at all. They were not like the Astley Family who managed to look past the fact that the Turners were not of the noble class. Eleanor could almost predict what thoughts were going through her escort’s head– he was such with a commoner and not just that, but also one of the infamous female dragonriders. How many strikes she already had against her!
As someone who cared little for the nobility and their practices, Eleanor knew little of Charles Acton. She’d heard some mentions of him inheriting an Earldom now that he was engaged to Constance Astley and had seen him at a few of the Astley’s gatherings looking as if he might wish to be anywhere else.
She half hoped that he wouldn’t bother to even seek her out, yet here he was standing in front of her and offering her his arm. Any hopes that she might have paired herself with a man who wasn’t particularly keen to follow traditions were slowly melting away. It was then Eleanor’s turn to decide then and there that she would do her best to be anywhere but in the company of Charles Acton over the next few days.
“I’d rather be called Eleanor if you please,” she replied dismissively. “Oh, apologies, I’d rather be called Eleanor if you please, my lord,” she added, making a dramatic curtsey. If Robert Persimmons was good for anything, it was inspiring the most elaborate bows.
Ignoring his arm, she began heading towards the doors of the temple as the crowds made their way to the market. Eleanor was happy to leave the temple– the religious services had a way of making her uneasy. She preferred to keep her life in her own hands and not offer it up to the gods.
“Tell me,” she asked him, glancing over her shoulder to see if he’d even bothered to follow after her. “Are you fond of cards?”
He had expected to be shocked by her behavior: only he hadn’t been prepared to find disfavor the first moments she spoke to him. What could she mean by speaking to him as though they’d known each other for ages?
“Forgive me,” He noticeably stiffened, “but I am not in the habit of referencing young ladies so informally when we have only just been introduced. I’m afraid that you shall remain ‘Miss Turner‘ when we are together.”
Charles had noticed her rather exaggerated curtsy and could tell that he was being mocked. It took all of his patience not to comment on her behavior, but it would have been clear to all who looked at him that he was irritated with her. To add insult to injury, she made a point to refuse his arm which had so clearly been offered to her, making him feel a fool.
Had he not have the strictest reverence for the Yuletide traditions, he might have given up on her, then and there, but he knew that his place was by her side and once this week was over and done with, he need not speak with her ever again. Charles was sure that they would both be happy with that arrangement.
Her question about cards did catch him off guard. There was a mischievous glint in her eye that made him think that there was more to this question than was immediately apparent and he did not give his answer until he had caught up with her again. It was then that he remembered hearing that some of the Admiral’s daughters were often spotted gambling at card games held at the tavern as though they men.
Had he been a gambling man, he would have bet that she was certainly one of them.
“On occasion,” He replied, “As a parlor game.” Charles clasped his hands behind his back (he would not be offering her his arm again, anytime soon). “I hear you are rather proficient? Your father must be terribly proud.” He had meant his tone to at least convey some sense of civility towards her, but he was already in a fowl mood and the sarcasm was unmasked in his last comment.
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