Eleanor

Chapter Three: To Carry a Mistress

"Eleanor?" Robert asked, bouncing his knee as a source of entertainment for Georgie. George smiled at his father, picking up a handful of beans. "Quit it," said Robert to his son. "Be like Jane."

"Sorry, Papa." George glanced over at his older sister, Jane, and put the food down.

Eleanor put the toast down on the plate. Robert spooned more beans onto the bread, folding it and putting it into his sons' hands.

"You called my name, Robert. I shall assume it was a mistake?"

"Oh, no. Where is our brother?" He mixed in his beans more, bringing the spoon to his mouth and licking it clean.

"Uh," Eleanor said. She took a small sip of her water glass. Was her brother not with his parents on their trip to Scotland with the Queen and Prince? "Scotland?"

"No, he did not go with Mama and Papa. I saw him out at the stables this morning."

Georgie spilled the beans out the toast and on Robert's trousers. Eleanor covered her giggle with her hand, putting her water glass down. She adored the care-free and funny nature of her little nephew. Eleanor widened her eyes and stuck her tongue out at Georgie, making him scorch laughter.

"George Henry! That is no way a young Duke should act. Sit in your chair or walk back to the nursery with your nanny."

Robert brushed George's golden weaves of hair back, pushing out the chair. George's wide, innocent, and watery eyes looked at the fallen food on his dad. He shook his head, an attempt to persuade his dad's decision. Eleanor's brother snapped his finger at the ground.

"But Papa..." George pouted.

"Go, Georgie."

George wrapped his arms around his dad's waist as to which Robert patted his back.

"I love you Papa. I'm sorry."

"Uh-huh," said Robert. "I love you too. Now, off."

George climbed off Robert and ran to Annabelle, his nanny, by the holly berry curtains. Annabelle bent down to wipe the food off his face and hands. Jane's nanny picked her up too. Both the nannies exited the dining room.

"So, sister." Robert took the apple bled napkin and rubbed his trousers. "Where were we..." He pushed his chair in to the table. "Oh, I indeed did need to tell you about the agenda today." Robert fixed around the small mess Georgie made. "We have a meeting with Miss Jennifer in the evening. I assume Papa set that endeavor up."

"I assume so, yes," said Eleanor, standing from the chair. "I told him about the William incident at my birthday dance. He did not take pleasure to it. As Papa does not see the light in anything these days."

"Yes, I do agree. Sister," said he. The footmen stepped to the table, bringing a tray with the newspaper. Another kitchen maid came over to refill his coffee. They reached over for Eleanor's glass to refill, before she shook her head and offed her away. "My estate is nearly done being built. Is that not exciting?"

"Yes, brother. I look forward to a day where your children are not screaming of night terrors so close to my delicate room of rest."

Robert glanced at her, narrowing his eyes to show his disapproval of her comment. He unfolded the newspaper. "Carry on with your day, now," said Robert. "Your activities for the day?"

"Painting and reading, brother. Perhaps some writing." The only activities she did every day, it seemed. Her heart desired to be a wife, caring for children, and hosting dinners. She stepped away from the dining table and stood in front of the gold floral designed door.

"Entertain my son, will you? And check on my wife, please."

She pretended not to hear Robert and glided through the hallways of the estate.

Later on, Eleanor travelled to the upper east wing of the estate, waiting at the white double doors that snuck up to the ceiling. Bessie had been in confinement for the last week, waiting for the newborn to come.

The doors opened for her. The light-yellow curtains were placed with deep purple ones and the bed covers were black. Bessie sat up in her bed, propped up with velvet pillows. Jane sat on the rug; her legs folded into a V as she played with a doll.

"My dear Mrs. Bessie," said she.

"Miss Eleanor, how are you?" Bessie put her reading book on the side table.

Jane looked up from her doll's strawberry blonde hair and waved to Eleanor.

"Delightful, thank you. Your husband fetched me here to ask if you were alright? I am sure he is worried about his wife."

Bessie acted as if she was surprised, her pale fingertips stroking her neck. "Ah, for you are mistaken. Mr. Saalfield does not take pity to me. I do dread the day we share separate bedrooms and he takes on mistresses better than I."

"Oh, Mrs. Bessie! How dare you say my brother shall take on a mistress! Have some decency," said she, the tips of her flat wooden shoes backing into the carpet.

"Miss Eleanor, please. Come along and make haste."

Eleanor stepped over little Jane and sat on the bench that the midwife shall use when Bessie enters childbirth.

"Men are different than us. Many wives accept the fact that their husband will take on a mistress one day, one that is younger and of youth."

"Nonsense! Utter nonsense!" said she, her posture curving over. "My Papa has been faithful to my Mama since the saying of their vows. And Queen Victoria and Prince Albert are in an unbinding love."

"You simply do not understand. Men have the freedom to carry on with mistresses to urge their needs. It is quite common," said she, looking at dear Jane nurse her baby doll.

"But I shall not carry on another partner other than my husband. Why shall he?"

"Because..." Mrs. Bessie fixed her position upon the pillows. "We must be seen as pure for our husbands, taking care of their children as they provide income. You surely know this, dear."

"I do, Mrs. Bessie. It is I that feels discontent with it, though," said Eleanor.

"Discontent? Nay! It is how things are and you must learn and understand it as a lady."

Eleanor stood from the chair and bent down next to Jane. Eleanor's emerald basque jacket bodice and skirt matched Jane's doll dress. She sought to make a comment about it, as Jane took a resemblance off Eleanor.

Consisted of her what vibrant blue eyes Eleanor had, rested inside of Jane, gifted by Robert.

"My Jane," said she, "what lovely doll you have. Where did you find such a beautiful toy?" Eleanor caressed Jane's golden greased hair. Jane smelled of grass and leaves.

"Miss Eleanor," said Jane, looking from her doll. "Papa gave it to me as a gift when Georgie was born." Jane's dimpled shined through as she gazed at her aunt.

"You have a good Papa, Jane. He loves and cares for you very much. And you must take care of him when he grows older alongside your wonderful husband."

Eleanor kissed Jane on her forehead, standing up on her feet. As she said her goodbyes to Mrs. Bessie, she couldn't help but think of her potential husband carrying on a mistress. What if Jennifer comes to be his mistress? Or even worse, what if she marries him?