A few weeks after Eleanora became acquitted to living with the Bridgertons prior to the beginning of the social season, Daphne made an offer Eleanora thought she would never hear again: "Would you like to ride horses with me and Anthony? It's a lovely day."
Since marrying Jerome, he despised the concept of women doing anything besides residing at home. Horse riding for women was a ghastly idea to him. As much as Eleanora hated to admit it, the one benefit of Jerome's passing was that she could freely do what she loved most. Even better, she also got to beat Anthony in racing.
~~~
After Daphne's meeting with Lord Berbrooke, she invited Anthony and Eleanora to ride horses in the park.
As Daphne was spilling out her concerns, Anthony reassured, "Lord Berbrooke is harmless."
Eleanora scoffed.
He pretended not to hear her, and continued, "There will be others." As if on cue, a passing man bowed his hat towards the trio.
"Lady Whistledown has all but declared me ineligible. Worthy of the affection of a detestable simpleton and no one else," Daphne stated, "Tell me, what others should ever want such damaged goods now?"
"Think of it this way," Eleanora suggested, in an attempt to reassure her, "Lady Whistledown has declared you the diamond of the first water, and has not redacted that title. Plus, Her Majesty called you 'flawless.' If anything, the suitors this season are just downright brainless and do not know how to act around someone as impeccable as you."
"You speak as if Lady Whistledown were to be held in higher regard than Her Majesty the Queen herself," Anthony chimed in.
"For once Anthony and I agree on something!" Eleanora pointed out. "As much as I love eating up the gossip from those damned pamphlets, it is just that. Gossip. Daphne, you are treating her words as true as gospel when you shouldn't."
"Her words, they are not true," Anthony assured.
"Only, they are true, Brother, and they are true because of you," Daphne snapped, "You have managed to scare every worthy suitor away; Whistldown has merely reported it."
"She is right about that," Eleanora stated.
Anthony turned to her. "Whose side are you on?!"
"I am on no one's side! Recall my vulture analogy?"
"I am looking out for you," Anthony said, turning back to his sister, "I am defending you. It is my duty."
Once again, Eleanora scoffed.
"And what of my duty?" Daphne pointed out, her volume making nearby passerbyers turn their heads. "You have no idea what it is to be a woman. What it might feel like to have one's entire life reduced to a single moment. This is all I have been raised for. This is all I am, I have no other value. If I am unable to find a husband, I shall be worthless."
"Nonetheless, the suitors look at us women as prizes to be won, not as people. And if we are not 'won over' then the ton will associate us with the term 'spinsters,'" Eleanora added, the term hitting a nerve, "Because soon, age starts to affect the ability to find a husband. With . . . bearing children and all that rubbish."
When Eleanora was focused looking straight ahead, Anthony gazed at her, finally realizing that this was how she felt. Her husband hanged himself, and she was now considered far too old to find another husband - a suitable one, at that; only to be known as a widowed spinster.
Anthony turned back to Daphne. "Daphne, you're a Bridgerton."
"It would be easier if I were not," she scoffed. She clicked her tongue, speeding up her horse to dismiss herself from Anthony.
"Anthony," Eleanora called, stopping the viscount before he had the chance to try and catch up to Daphne. He looked over to her. "For what it's worth, I understand you're trying to protect your sister; this duty has fallen on you and burdens you, I know that, but at least do not be so restrictive on her."
For a few seconds they rode in silence, Anthony not responding to Eleanora's input.
"Nora," he finally said, "I do not believe you are too old to find a husband. You will find someone."
Eleanora let out a humorless laugh. "Anthony, please."
~~~
"You know, I do suppose if it were not for an overzealous mother at every corner, this time of year in the city would not be so very dreadful," Simon said to Anthony. They were sitting across from one another in the gentleman's club.
"Those mothers simply want the same as you, I rather think," Anthony said, the alcohol already getting to his head as he slouched back in his armchair.
"For every last one of them to choke on their daughters' hair ribbons?"
"For you to claim a wife, Hastings. Are you truly not planning on taking your place in society where you have a dukedom?"
"I have a title," Simon quickly corrected, "Which, as far as I'm concerned, will end with me."
"But Hastings-"
"Stop calling me that. It was my father's name. Never mine." Simon set down his glass and sat up. "In any case, what of you?"
Anthony mimicked the duke's action, also sitting up. "What of me?"
"You are a firstborn Bridgerton of a firstborn Bridgerton nine times over. Where is your wife?"
To refrain from answering, Anthony took a drag from his cigar.
"Is your plan to fuck her forever, your mistress? You shall need to sire an heir."
"I'm in possession of something that you are not," Anthony said. "Brothers." With that, he downed his liquor with an intoxicated smirk.
"And what of Miss Fitzwilliam?" Simon pointed out.
"What of her?"
Simon smirked at the thought of Anthony's cheeks going rouge whenever the viscount talked about Eleanora in college. The way his eyes lit up and his laugh was heartier, even while he was still in mourning of the recent death of his father. "I see how you look at her. And how you adored talking about her when we were in Oxford."
"And I see how she looks at you. Clearly smitten over you." Anthony avoided eye contact.
"I will say now, Bridgerton, if Miss Fitzwilliam is not already aware of your mistress, she will eventually find out."
"She is not going to find out," Anthony assured with a cocky smirk, though in the back of his mind he wasn't so sure of himself, and Simon knew it.
In his youth, for hours on end, he'd talk to Simon about how witty Eleanora was and how quickly she picked up on new information.
That was when it came across to the viscount: why did he suddenly worry if Eleanora found out about Siena?
~~~
At the opera, Eleanora truly felt like a princess, even if she didn't want to admit how childish it was to experience such a feeling.
As she, Daphne, and Violet were walking through the auditorium to get to their box, Daphne and Eleanora spotted Lord Berbrooke, smirking at Daphne from afar. Eleanora grabbed Daphne by the arm, offering to Violet hastily, "Shall we go to our box?"
"Lady Bridgerton!" Lady Danbury said from afar, next to the Queen. The three women turned their heads. "Do join us," she insisted.
The three women then made haste to Her Majesty, bowing down to her.
"Your Majesty," Violet greeted. "Good evening. You must remember my daughter, Daphne."
"Yes," the Queen said. "She made quite the impression. However fleeting it may have been," she snorted before walking away, not regarding Eleanora.
"I would like to welcome you to my box this evening," Lady Danbury proposed. Before Violet could open her mouth to object, she added, "I insist."
Getting settled in Lady Danbury's box, Eleanora could not help but look around the opera house from the high level, clearly not something she was used to.
"They are saying her husband will not live till the end of the month," Lady Danbury said, observing the Queen's box.
"Surely another rumor provided by that vicious, scandal-mongering writer," Violet assured. "Shoulder her degradation know no bounds?"
Meanwhile, Daphne was observing the performance through her theatre binoculars. Eleanora followed her gaze, just barely recognizing the opera singer that was currently performing: Siena Rosso, if Eleanora recalled correctly from reading her opera pamphlet.
The next evening, the Duke of Hastings was invited over for dinner with the Bridgertons. Eleanora was especially pleased about it, but her feelings about him were all in good, teasing fun.
"Haven't you heard what we were talking about?" Anthony said from the head of the table. "For all we know, Whistledown may be some interloper living in Bloomsbury, of all places."
"I find myself quite offended of that," Eleanora teased. "If you may recall, I myself was raised in Bloomsbury."
"No you weren't," Anthony pointed out.
"What should be so terrible about Bloomsbury?" Benedict asked. "That people there actually work for a living?"
Eleanora snorted into her wine; thankfully no one saw.
"She does seem to be someone with access," Daphne chimed in.
"Who knows if Whistledown is even a she?" Colin added.
"Fair point," Anthony said.
"Because she is simply too good to be anyone but a man?" Eloise pointed out, looking up from her plate.
"Well I think it rather obvious that the writer is Lady Danbury," Francesca said.
"Lady Danbury enjoys sharing her insults with society directly," Daphne noted. "She would never bother herself writing them all down."
"Could it be Lady Featherington?" Hyacinth asked, wanting to join in on the theories.
"No!" the table answered with hearty laughter.
"You have yet to read what Whistledown writes of the Featheringtons, little sister," Eloise said.
"He does have a presence about him," Francesca said to Eloise and Eleanora, nodding her head towards Simon.
"Quite the presence indeed," Eleanora agreed. She caught Anthony looking at her, and the viscount turned away.
"If rakish dukes were one's thing," Eloise dismissed.
Anthony not only caught Eleanora talking of Simon, but noticed how bitterly Daphne was talking towards the duke from the other side of the table. He exchanged a glance with Benedict.
"Hastings," Anthony called, trying to change the subject. "I'm so glad you decided to join us this evening. It was most spontaneous of you."
"Not at all," he replied. "With Lady Danbury accepting your dear mother's gracious invitation on my behalf." Simon turned to Violet. "However could I have declined?"
Later that night after dinner had ended, Anthony noticed his mother standing by the doorway of his study as he busily worked on paperwork.
"You were a reasonable mother until your eldest daughter came of age," he said without looking up. "This matchmaking scheme you rather transparently concocted with Lady Danbury, it will not work."
"I can think of worse matches for Daphne than a duke," Violet defended. "I believe the two of you to be friends."
"We are good friends. Which is why I know he has absolutely no intention of marrying."
"You must understand, all men make that assertion. Your father-"
Anthony's head cocked up. "Do not bring Father into this. Even if he were in want of a wife, you would most certainly not have the duke anywhere near Daphne," he advised.
"I am fully subscribed to the belief that reformed rakes make the very best of husbands-"
"He will not make her happy!" Violet was taken aback by her son's reaction. "Daphne deserves better. And I know you think you are solving the problem, but you are not and that is all I shall say about the matter," Anthony said bluntly, returning to his work.
After a moment of hesitation, Violet said, "The duke will be joining us as our guest at Vauxhall tomorrow evening - I admit it was not easy to convince him to come-"
"You overstep."
"She is my eldest daughter."
"Yet she is my responsibility, as are you."
"Responsibility?" Violet repeated.
"Do not make this any more difficult than it already is."
"I wish to know something, Anthony," she prompted. "Tonight, when you leave this study that you continue to keep at your family home, are you to return to bachelors lodgings across the square or will you pay a visit to a certain soprano that you tend to in an apartment that you pay for on the other side of town, relying on your younger brothers to one day do the job that you cannot? You like to speak of responsibility. My dear son! Of duty? Pray tell, what should you know of it? I sit with her in that drawing room, do you know what I see? A young woman who is terrified because she knows what kind of life, what kind of future, awaits her should you continue to get in her way. If your father was still here, Daphne would have already been matched. The man would have made an arrangement with an old friend. The man would have done what was now necessary, so you must ask yourself: are you merely an older brother, or are you the man of this house?"
Before Anthony had a chance to answer, Violet walked out of his study, leaving him to ponder over his thoughts of what his mother had just said.
~~~
The sun had just barely rose at Anthony's apartment across London, as he laid in bed with Siena. He caressed her hair with one hand, and gazed at his pocket watch with the other, still going over in his mind what his mother had said the previous night.
Anthony opened his mouth but sound refused to come out. "I cannot see you anymore," he said finally.
Sienna sat up, staring at him in surprise. "I do not understand."
"It is not for you to understand. I must do what is necessary."
"You said you would always protect me," she reminded him. "You promised to care for me, my lord. What shall I do now?"
After a pause, Anthony decided, "You shall leave."
When Eleanora could not sleep, she surrendered to her fight at around three a.m. Putting on her night robe, she quietly walked down to the drawing room, gathered her needlework supplies, and let her mind wander as her fingers did all the work to the quiet sounds of the crickets outside, giving her peace. No rowdy younger Bridgertons (as much as she adored them), no worriness of Daphne, no annoying remarks from Anthony, and no Lady Whistledown.
At around five, deep in her thoughts, Eleanora heard footsteps outside the room. She immediately tensed all muscles as if the sound of moving thread and her needle would alert whoever was outside the room of her presence. Anthony cracked the door open, glass of alcohol in hand, expecting he would be alone in the drawing room until he spotted Eleanora. He was not in sleepwear, and instead was dressed as if he had just had a night on the town.
"Good morning, my lord," Eleanora greeted in a quiet tone, checking the clock. "It is only five a.m. and you're only just in coming now? Where could you possibly have been?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Anthony replied, still a little tense from his exchange with Siena. He sat down on the couch across from her.
"I have had trouble sleeping, so I decided to work my hands. Can't say the same for you, since you're fully clothed so early in the day. Were you just coming back from your escapades?"
Anthony swirled his liquor in his glass. "I was coming back from the gentleman's club," he lied.
"They close at midnight last I recall," Eleanora pointed out with a smirk, no longer paying attention to her cross-stitching and only on Anthony.
"I was merely running some errands. Needed the fresh air."
She looked up at him through her eyelashes, not buying his white lies. Anthony glared back before feeling the need to look away. He set his glass down and picked up a nearby newspaper, the paper crinkling loudly as he opened it.
"Running errands at your rendezvous point? Meeting with a certain soprano?" Eleanora inquired after a brief pause.
Anthony set down his newspaper (also loudly), to look at Eleanora. "I beg your pardon?"
"Is the name Siena Rosso ringing a bell?"
"How can you possibly know of me seeing her?" he inquired a little too quickly.
Eleanora let out a playful laugh. "Anthony, surely by now from living in a house full of women, you must know that women know everything."
Anthony hated to admit it, but Simon's comment back at White's turned out to be right. He scoffed at her statement.
She added, "Plus, I heard you tell the coachman to take you to either the opera house or her residence a few times."
"Spying on me, were we, Nora?" Anthony teased, a small smile on his face.
"It is not my fault you love to constantly announce your whereabouts," she replied, rolling her eyes. Eleanora then glanced at his newspaper. "Reading about the opera singer this very second. Really, Anthony? You have just seen her yet you can't get your mind off her."
Anthony realized that Eleanora was right about the last part.
"The other night at the opera house she did a wonderful performance," Eleanora added.
"Is there something the matter with me seeing an opera singer?"
"No, no, just a keen observation, that's all," Eleanora sighed, returning back to her needlework.
Anthony set down his newspaper once more. "Nora, are you mad that I did not confide in you about Siena?"
"All I'm saying is, if I were seeing a talented singer, actor, whoever, you'd be the first person I'd tell, that's all," she said with a shrug.
Anthony thought that over. He then decided to switch his seating location to be next to Eleanora, bringing his newspaper and drink with him. He purposely cleared his throat and crinkled the newspaper loudly to get on her nerves, which worked, because she then elbowed him in his arm and threatened to stab him with her sewing needle.
~~~
The Vauxhall Ball was on the other side of the river, which required rowing across. As the Bridgerton boat came closer, Eleanora could spot the open field with a dance floor in the middle surrounded by granite pillars, and countless alit torches surrounding it, making the scene look mystical.
Once the Bridgertons got settled on land, Eleanora's nausea from the boat ride did the opposite of settling. She and Anthony were standing off to the side, watching the couples dance on the floor.
"All the jumping and laughing and . . . everything isn't helping with the seasickness," Eleanora groaned.
"Can I fetch you a lemonade?" Anthony offered.
"No, I just like to complain. Thank you, though." Another cheerful number started, and everyone who was dancing whooped along to the music. "All the cheerfulness is making me ill."
"Are you sure it's the seasickness or are you just being your normal self?" Anthony teased.
"It's that damned boat," she said with a small smile. "It wouldn't kill to have the ball on land and not across the Atlantic."
"We crossed a river," he pointed out.
"Same difference."
"Ladies and gentlemen, a most extraordinary event is about to take place. Right this way!" a booming voice announced.
Anthony offered his arm to Eleanora. "Shall we?"
"We shall," she said, taking his arm with a small smile. They followed the group of people to an area of grass, away from the light created by the torches.
"It is with great privilege," continued the voice, "I present Vauxhall's newest spectacle of illumination. Feast your eyes above and allow all that is radiant to overwhelm you!"
Eleanora could hear loud and chaotic crackling from a sparkler. With that, lightbulbs on wires above the crowd turned on, reminding Eleanora of luminaries. She looked up in awe as she applauded along with everyone else. As her attention was focused at the lights, Anthony turned to gaze at her awed expression, letting himself smile just a little.
"A beautiful sight, is it not?" Eleanora said, smiling wide.
"It is," he said quietly, still looking at her. This was the first time in a while Anthony saw his friend truly relaxed and happy.
Eleanora was finally able to take her eyes off the lights to find Daphne. "Let's go meet with your sister," she suggested.
The two walked up to the eldest Bridgerton sister, who was still in shock from the lights. Daphne then glanced at Anthony and Eleanora. "Is that not the most bizarre?"
"It's gorgeous, I'd say," Eleanora replied. "Right, Anthony?"
His expression changed, his mouth a straight line, remembering he had important business to discuss with Daphne. "Nora, may I have a word with my sister?"
Eleanora's expression turned the same, glancing at Daphne. "Of course." She walked away, finding the refreshments table.
"Lord Berbrooke's barony is over two hundred years old; his lineage is legitamate," Anthony finally said when Eleanora was out of hearing range. Knowing her, she would immediately disagree on what Anthony was about to propose. "He has had an excellent education, possesses no debts, never hurt an animal or a woman, and is even a decent shot. To speak strictly, there is nothing wrong with him."
Daphne looked at him speechless, stunned at her brother's outrageous suggestion. "What should any of this-"
"You are to marry him."
"Nigel?" she asked incredulously.
"I had to find you a husband, Sister. Now be grateful that it is done. It should be just as easy to fall in love with Lord Berbrooke as with anyone else."
She was taken aback by this. "I will not hear of this." With that, Daphne walked off, leaving Anthony in the middle of the joyous crowd socializing amongst each other.
After giving the siblings a few minutes, Eleanora decided to make her way back to Anthony, but was startled to find Daphne quickly walk past her and wiping a tear from her face.
"What have you said this time, Anthony?" Eleanora said with a quizzical expression, finding Anthony in the crowd as she munched on a pastry.
"I'll tell you another time," he said absently, watching his sister storm off.
"Surely it can't be anything too upsetting. Mustn't have a grumpy Anthony on our hands, can we?" Eleanora teased, giving Anthony a smile and popping in the last of her pastry.
She wanted to find out what made Daphne so upset to the point of shedding a tear, but for tonight she wanted to focus on keeping Anthony company. Or maybe he was keeping her company. Nonetheless, they both enjoyed each other's company.
Anthony looked at her, realizing how contagious her smile was. Without a word, he offered his arm once more, and she took it. They promenaded around the perimeter, talking amongst each other. A whistling sound from the sky turned both of their heads, and the whistling light exploded in fireworks, before many other fireworks started exploding. This startled Eleanora, and without thinking she grabbed Anthony's arm with both of her hands. He laughed at her reaction as they both watched the fireworks, before looking at each other. The sound nore the sight of the fireworks took up their attention anymore; just the presence of each other.
"Anthony, Eleanora," Violet called, walking up to them, casting their attention away from each other. Eleanora restricted herself to just one hand on Anthony's arm as the two turned towards Violet. "Look."
The two followed Violet's gaze to find Daphne and Simon holding hands, their shoulders up and proud, as they walked to the middle of the dance floor. They stood in the middle, faced each other as they gazed into each other's eyes, and bowed. They took a step closer to each other, and began dancing with the other dancers on the floor.
"My word," Eleanora whispered under her breath at the awe of how compatible the Duke looked with Daphne.
~~~
"Anthony, I cannot contain myself any longer," Eleanora pleaded, once again spending the time when she should be sleeping conversing with Anthony in the drawing room.
"It will upset you," Anthony warned.
"Guaranteed so, if Daphne walked away crying! It concerns me."
"I told her she will be marrying Lord Berbrooke," he said flatly.
Eleanora sat up. "Lord Berbrooke? That scum of the Earth?"
"He has a stable lineage, wouldn't harm a fly, and possesses no debts," Anthony defended.
"And if it were up to me, I'd put a hard stop on that lineage!" Eleanora hissed. "Must I remind you at the Danbury Ball when he practically chased after me? He makes me uncomfortable!"
Anthony disliked hearing of Eleanora being uncomfortable, but he decided that it was right and to take his mother's advice. "What's done is done. He would make a suitable husband."
"What did I say about not being restrictive? You're barely giving Daphne a say in this. This is her marriage, not yours."
"And I promised to find her a suitable husband."
Without hesitating or taking another look at Anthony, Eleanora stood up, making her way to the doors leading out of the drawing room. "You can be so difficult sometimes. Good night, my lord." Walking up to her bedroom, Eleanora wondered how Daphne would marry Berbrooke if she was so entranced by Simon. Surely Daphne would set her foot down and not marry Berbrooke, no matter how stubborn Anthony was about it.
The next morning, Daphne was off to promenade with Simon, thankfully lacking Anthony to chaperone.
"You seem rather bitter this morning, my lord," Eleanora said, not looking up from her breakfast.
"Why does this arrangement upset you?" Anthony asked.
"I would rather Daphne marry someone unlike Berbrooke or Russell, that's all; someone loving who will provide care and support," she answered shortly, without providing a broader explanation.
Anthony couldn't help but wonder why Russell was compared to Berbrooke if Berbrooke seemed like such a bad man in her words. Did Russell treat Eleanora well in their marriage? He then left the room after finishing breakfast.
"Two dances? With a duke?" Hyacinth piped up from across the room. Daphne had just started playing the pianoforte after returning from her promenade.
"He was quite taken by your sister, Hyacinth," Violet answered. "The entire party was, for that matter; all eyes were on Daphne."
Eleanora quickly finished her breakfast and moved to sit in a chair next to Daphne as she played.
"I promise on my life and on my parents' graves not to squawk," Eleanora began in a hushed whisper. "But I must ask: why did it appear you and the duke exited from the gardens . . together? And . . . alone? Of course you are free to do as you please, but I just do not want to find you in a compromising position, that's all-"
"I punched Berbrooke," Daphne interrupted, matching Eleanora's hushed tone and keeping her eyes fixed on the pianoforte.
Eleanora found it difficult to restrain from showing expression at what Daphne just said. "I beg your pardon?"
"The duke was strolling when he came across me, and Berbrooke knocked out on the grass."
"That is splendid! I was just worried you had found yourself in a compromising position, that is all. But it seems my troubles have died down, for Daphne Bridgerton can defend herself by throwing a punch or two."
"At least enjoy some toast, dearest," Violet offered, walking up to the pianoforte and holding out a plate.
"I am not hungry, Mama," Daphne declined.
"Though, I would not decline more toast," Eleanora chimed, happily taking the plate and sitting back down in her previous seat.
"Are you certain the entire party was not simply eyeing a tear in her dress?" Colin called out, making Eleanora roll her eyes.
"Or a misstep she took on the dance floor?" Benedict added.
"I do wonder, Daphne," said Violet, "Might we count on the duke at the Crawford ball?"
"I should think it a fair chance," she responded.
"What about the Ramsbury ball, Friday? And the grand picnic?"
"We shall see, Mama," Daphne said, seeming more irritable.
"How terrible for Fran that she'll be off practicing pianoforte with Aunt Winnie all season, and miss Daphne's engagement to the duke," Hyacinth said, thinking aloud.
Eloise stormed into the room rather anxiously, asking everyone present, "How does a lady come to be with child?!"
Daphne stopped playing and everyone turned to look at Eloise.
"That's certainly a . . . question," Eleanora commented.
"I thought one needed to be married," Eloise said. "Nora, you were married - how does a lady come to be with child?"
Eleanora covered her face with her hand. "If you may recall, Eloise, I was never with child to begin with."
"Because apparently it's not even a requirement!"
"Eloise, that is more than enough," Violet chastised. "Daphne, you were playing so lovely. Please, do go on."
Antsy from the change in the tone of the room, Eleanora grabbed her half eaten toast and sat across from Colin, Benedict, and Eloise who had just joined them.
"I take it the two of you know," she said to her brothers.
"Do not look at me," Benedict said immediately, staring at the empty seat next to Eleanora to avoid eye contact with his confrontational sister.
"Have you ever visited a farm, El?" Colin asked, making Eleanora snort with a mouthful of toast. Violet glanced at her with furrowed brows and Eleanora covered the sound as a cough.
"I do hope you are not encouraging improper topics of conversation," Violet called out.
"Not at all, Mother," assured Benedict.
"In fact," Colin chimed in. "We were just heading off to . . . take our sticks out."
"Colin Bridgerton!" Violet exclaimed.
"A round of fencing," he innocently added. With that, Colin and Benedict left the drawing room.
"Humboldt is coming, miss," the maid by the door announced. Daphne stopped playing the pianoforte, too excited to continue.
"Humboldt?" Violet questioned.
"Why is Humboldt coming?" Hyacinth asked.
Daphne stood up and walked to Humboldt entering the room. "Has someone arrived, Humboldt?"
"Callers for Miss Daphne, ma'am," he announced.
Daphne squealed and looked to her mother in excitement.
"But . . . the duke," Violet reminded. "You already have a caller, dearest."
"There's no complaining in having more!" Eleanora chimed in.