“I quite agree,” she replied.
“Indeed.” He sat back in his chair. When he moved, it was with leonine grace. His hand rested on the table, his fingers lightly drumming as he considered her. He was frowning, slightly.
Julia wished that she could tell what he was thinking. He kept his true feelings hidden. Though the words that he was saying were all of the right ones, she wondered if they were truly what he felt.
Aaron had never before felt so aware of someone as he did Eleanor, who was utterly silent and unmoving in the chair beside the door. He could feel her, not making a sound. He kept his eyes on Lady Julia.
She was smiling hopefully, her cheeks pink from blushing. Her hair was neatly arranged, no doubt by Eleanor’s hand. She had delicate curls framing her cheeks in a most becoming manner.
And yet, I feel nothing.
When Julia glanced away from him, he looked back at Eleanor. Her face was turned away from them, toward the wall. He felt her hurt at hearing the tepid conversation of their marriage.
He knew that he should forget her lady’s maid. In time, Eleanor would fade into the background. He would need a lady to become the next Duchess of Durnsott. It wasn’t possible for a gentleman of his standing to have any but a passing interest in a maid. Some might have a dalliance. But he would not.
He would not impugn either Eleanor or Lady Julia in that manner. He wanted to be everything that was honorable. He knew not what to make of his feelings for Eleanor. He could only hope that with time they would lessen.
“May I endeavor to deserve your good opinion,” he told Lady Julia. “You are far too good for me, My Lady.”
“I don’t believe so,” she told him, though she sounded hesitant. Her golden curls bounced around her cheeks.
I’ve lied to her.
Aaron looked down at his now-empty plate. He was glad for the shadows on this side of the room. He took a large gulp of his tea.
He glanced over at Eleanor again. She was blushing bright red, her eyes on her hands in her lap. He hated that she had listened to the whole of this conversation. While it needed to be said, he couldn’t help but be aware that he had hurt her.
After breakfast, Eleanor accompanied her lady up to her room, where Lady Julia discovered that her clean laundry had not been brought up by the house maid. So, Eleanor was sent to go and fetch it.
Eleanor had inured herself to their talk. She knew that she’d been blushing, though Lady Julia hadn’t noticed. His Grace had thrown her a glance. She hadn’t known how to read that look. Almost as if he was torn.
No, that’s what you want him to feel. But he cannot. Tears blurred her vision, but she shook them off.
She was just about to turn the corner, when she heard raised voices. Eleanor paused, ducking into the alcove, just behind a suit of armor. Just around the bend, she could hear the Dowager Duchess, talking angrily.
“Think of your image,” the Dowager Duchess said. “You mustn’t be seen gallivanting about a country village at the pub.”
“Plenty of young gentlemen go to the pub, Mother!” Lord Jack responded. Eleanor knew then that she shouldn’t be hearing this conversation.
“You are not just any young gentleman. You are my son. Don’t you know what I have done for you? You have every right to be there, sitting with them.”
“Yes, Mother,” he said sadly.
“You know that by next Season, you will be wed. You have your father’s blood, running through your veins. You’re just as much his son, too.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Then start acting like it.” There came the sound of skirts swishing as the Dowager Duchess stormed off.
Eleanor waited, pressed back into the alcove. She listened to the sound of Lord Jack as he sighed wearily, then quietly moved away. Eleanor shrugged to herself. It sounded like Her Grace was trying to find a suitable young lady for her younger son as well. Like many fine ladies, she was clearly trying to marry both sons off.
It wasn’t unheard of. She slipped out of her hiding place.
“Eleanor?” She jumped, spinning to find that the Duke was standing there. He was frowning at her.
“Your Grace,” she said.
“What are you doing hiding there?” he asked.
“I had nowhere else to go, Your Grace.” She wasn’t sure what she had overheard. Only that it was likely meant to be private.
“Surely there’s somewhere you should be.” He was smiling at her, his blue eyes sparkling. He looked very fine, with his snow-white shirt and cravat.
“Indeed, Your Grace. There is.”
“Have you gotten lost again? I’d be happy to help you find the way.”
Eleanor looked up and into his eyes, which were soft. He was leaning in toward her, as though he was a star, caught in her orbit. Her skin heated, and that feeling that she felt only in his presence awoke within her.
“I know only that the laundry is not behind the suit of armor,” she replied.
“The laundry! It is right down the hall, down the stairs, and then to the left. Shall I accompany you?”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she murmured. “I shall find it.”
“As you were, then,” he said, dismissing her.
“I am in your debt,” she blurted out. Their eyes met.
“Then I shall remember it.”
She knew that she was blushing furiously. She began to walk, and he strode after her.
“I was wondering if you’d been to the stables?” he asked.
“I have. Thank you for allowing me the privilege of going there,” she said.
“Did you have a good time?” Already, his long strides had caught up to her. He slowed, walking easily at her side.
“I did. Martin was very informative.”
“Which horse do you like best?”
“That’s like asking me to choose a favorite finger on my hand, Your Grace.” She kept her eyes on the runner carpet that covered the hall floors. She could hardly look at him, or he would discern all of her feelings.
“That is high praise indeed.”
“They are all very beautiful, especially Tristan and Iseult. I have never seen their like before.”
“The pair of Arabian horses,” he said, smiling. “They are few and far between this far North. I had them brought, all of the way from Egypt.”
“So the groom told me.”
“Would you like to ride Iseult today?” he asked her, and she looked at him in shock.
“That is a privilege too far,” she said, her throat tightening. She had just listened to him, speaking to Lady Julia about marriage!
“Not at all.”
“No, Your Grace,” she said softly. “Please. Let me ride the dapple gray. She seems sweet. And perfect for a woman of my station.”
His face fell.
Ah, yes. Now he recalls himself.
“If that is what you truly wish,” he replied. He leaned in toward her. “I would have you happy, Eleanor.”
“I am happy, Your Grace,” she told him, though even to her own ears it sounded like a falsehood. “Now, I must get to the laundry, or My Lady will wonder what has become of me.” She curtsied and then rushed away. She covered her face with her hands as soon as he turned the corner. She didn’t know what to think. She could still smell the scent of his cologne, sharp and spicy on the air. His presence was intoxicating. She wished, desperately, and only for a second, that she had been born a fine lady. So that she could ever hope to have him—or a gentleman like him.
After running into Eleanor in the hall, Aaron felt unsettled. He had wanted to give her the pleasure of riding Iseult, who was a fine horse. Instead, she had begged to be allowed to ride Pansy, who was a lumbering beast.
Instead of bringing her joy, Eleanor had seemed hurt, upset. He felt awful about it. He felt awful about all of the conversations that he had had that day.
He made his way out to the stables, where the horses were being saddled. He wanted to make sure that the governess
cart was prepared for Lady Julia. The coachman was there, to act as her driver.
The sun was bright overhead. All of the preparations were complete for the outing. There was a picnic lunch, which would be placed in the governess cart with Lady Julia. They would all ride out to the lake, where they would eat.
The Dowager Duchess and Lady Whitecier had come out to see them all off.
“Why does Lady Julia not ride Iseult?” Louisa asked.
“My daughter is terrified of horses,” Lady Whitecier said, smiling tenderly at her daughter. “She always has been.”
“I shall ride in the pony cart,” Lady Julia said, speaking over them. “It has always been so.”
“My Lady, you are to be a Duchess,” Louisa said, her hand on the diamonds. He watched Lady Julia’s eyes go to the stones. “A Duchess would ride a fine horse.”
“I would rather Lady Julia do as she feels comfortable,” Aaron said, coming to her aid. “If she is not comfortable riding a horse, then that is absolutely fine.”
Louisa pursed her lips, but relented.
“I do wish we could go too,” she said instead. “Alas, Lady Whitecier and I shall remain here and sip cordials in the cool air of the withdrawing room.”
“I am sure that we will find our own fun,” Lady Whitecier said, smiling.
“Indeed, we shall talk of weddings and such. A good pastime for two ladies such as ourselves.” Lady Whitecier beamed.
Aaron smiled at them both. “As you will.”
Chapter 9
Julia did not mind riding in the pony cart. She loved it, actually. The terror that she felt riding up so high on a horse’s back was overwhelming. She was pleased at how excited Eleanor had been to be going on the ride.
She sat in the cart, beside the coachman, and all was well. Eleanor rode beside her on Pansy, doing as she ought as a chaperone. The gentlemen rode a little way ahead of them. From where she sat, Julia could see the stout shoulders of her husband-to-be. He did look very fine on top of a horse. She imagined, for a moment, that she was braver than she was. That she would ride a fine horse beside him.
Alas. It was not meant to be.
They talked as they went, taking a long, winding road that went through the estate. It travelled through the woods, where there were many deer, which ran out of them.
Finally, they stopped beside the lake, where Lady Julia was helped out and down to sit upon the blanket that the footmen laid out for their picnic.
“How do you find Pansy?” the Duke asked Eleanor.
“Oh, she’s very docile,” Eleanor gushed.
“Good to hear.” He turned toward Julia. “Is everything as it ought to be, My Lady?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” she replied. She was comfortable. She could see their lives together—polite reserve.
They began to eat. There were finger sandwiches, fresh fruit, small cakes, and they all ate their fill. Julia glanced over at Eleanor, who beamed back at her.
“I say!” Lord Jack declared. “Lady Julia and Eleanor have a secret!”
“We do not, My Lord,” Lady Julia said.
“The way that you are smiling, you must.” Julia’s eyes met his. He was looking at her with an odd look on his face.
“Not at all,” Lady Julia replied, her face heating. No one had ever looked at her in that manner…as if she were a lady to be desired. Not just wed.
“Eleanor! You must tell us.” Lord Jack was grinning. Julia glanced over at His Grace, who was watching everything.
“My Lady is right,” Eleanor replied. “We are simply enjoying being out, eating a delicious lunch.”
“I always feel as if the fine ladies are always teasing us,” Lord Jack said, glancing over at Lord Mallen. “They always share such smiles that they seem they are laughing at us.”
“Perhaps we are,” Julia said archly. “But that is not for you to know, My Lord.” She glanced over at Eleanor and winked. Her lady’s maid laughed.
“Very well, then. Keep your secrets,” Lord Jack said.
“We shall.” Julia shot him a look. He smiled at her. Like his brother, he had blue eyes, which lit up.
“It looks like there are clouds, just over the horizon,” Lord Mallen commented. They all turned to look. Sure enough, there were dark-gray clouds, moving in their direction. The horizon beneath them was blurred by an oncoming downpour.
“We should start back, I wouldn’t want anyone to catch their death from cold,” the Duke announced. The footmen all moved to pack up the lunch. Julia felt a little disappointed that their outing was cut short. All too soon, she was seated in the governess cart beside the coachman, her mind full of the luncheon conversation.
Aaron was pleased with the day, even if it had begun to pour. There was a flash of lightening, accompanied by a loud crack of thunder. He held Tristan in check. However, Pansy spooked, taking off with Eleanor clinging to her back.
“Take Lady Julia back to Myrtlegrove Manor,” he barked, then turned Tristan after them. He rode as fast as he could, watching as Eleanor clung on. He felt a wave of dread, seeing her as she brought Pansy to a halt at last.
Something was wrong, he saw, immediately, as Pansy held up her one hoof awkwardly. By the time he reached them, Eleanor had climbed down out of the sidesaddle, breathing out a sigh of relief.
She was frowning as she checked Pansy’s hoof. Aaron was at her side in a few moments, jumping down out of Tristan’s saddle.
“She’s thrown a shoe,” Eleanor said, looking at him through the driving rain.
“Are you all right?” he asked her.
“I am,” she replied. “I was terrified, for a moment, but I am all right.”
When Aaron turned, he saw Arthur had followed. “What can I do?” he asked.
“Go and get Martin,” Aaron said. “Tell him that Pansy’s lost a shoe.”
Arthur nodded, turning Iseult and then urging her into a canter. Aaron glanced over at Eleanor. She was shivering in the rain.
“Do you want to ride Tristan back?” he asked her.
“No, I can’t handle a stallion on my own,” she replied, sensibly.
“I don’t want you to catch cold,” he murmured.
“Too late for that now.”
“Come,” he said, “we’ll walk back.”
“Why don’t you ride back?” she suggested. “You’ll catch a cold. Or be covered in mud.”
“I’m sure my valet will forgive me.” Aaron glanced over at her. She was staring straight ahead of them. She finally turned her gaze toward him. He smiled, slowly.
Even now, she’s still beautiful.
Eleanor sighed, turning her face away. “As you please, Your Grace.”
He laughed to himself. Little did she know, he was very pleased to be walking through the countryside beside her. Even if it was raining.
Aaron wished that she would speak. He couldn’t think of what to say without giving himself away. He didn’t want to lead her on, not when he could never hope to reciprocate.
On the other hand, I don’t want to lose this opportunity.
Together, they began to tramp through the wet grass, back toward Myrtlegrove Manor. When he glanced over at Eleanor, she was smiling to herself. This was not what he’d expected, given the miserable circumstances.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, before he could stop himself.
She glanced over at him. Her smile was artless, genuine. “Oh, that the rain’s about to stop,” she replied, turning her face toward the horizon. He glanced in that same direction. Sure enough, the sun was shining.
“Nothing gets you down, does it, Eleanor?”
“Not much,” she replied, shrugging.
“How?” he asked, desperate to get to the truth at her center. He wanted to understand her completely.
“What have I to be sad about?” she replied, still avoiding his gaze. “There are people far less fortunate than I.”
“What makes you so happy?”
Please, look at me when you speak.
“I’ve had the most wonderful day,” she told him. He had stopped walking, and she finally turned to face him. Aaron’s heart was racing as he looked into her green eyes. “I had a delicious lunch, a wonderful ride, and now I’m walking with you. We’re having a very nice discussion, are we not, Your Grace?”
Undressed to Impress the Duke : A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 7
