“Yes, we are,” he said, his voice husky with desire for her. Her eyes widened. Color slowly flooded her cheeks, and she licked her lips in a way that flooded his body with lust. He could have kissed her, then. He wanted to. He found himself yearning for her. He would have done anything for it. And yet, he had spoken just that morning of marriage with Lady Julia.
But there was Eleanor—so real beside him. A tendril of dark hair had fallen out of her pins and was stuck to her cheek, pointing toward her lips. He swallowed as he recalled his dream from the night before, how her lips had parted beneath his.
Eleanor wondered at the way that the Duke of Durnsott looked at her. It made her blush. He was staring at her, as though she were a fairy. Were she a lady, she would have deemed herself lucky. But she was a maid, and so far beneath him, that he should never have taken any notice of her.
“Is there anything that I can do for you?” he asked.
“No,” she replied.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
She could not say, I would like you to caress my cheek with your fingers, then lower your lips to mine. Just as she could not say, Bring down the moon for me.
“I can’t help but feel—” he began.
“Your Grace,” she said, recalling the desolation that she’d felt, listening to him talk to Lady Julia about their marriage, just that morning at breakfast. “There’s nothing that I need.” For if she asked anything of him, it could only end in heartbreak for her. He would marry Lady Julia.
“Is there something that you want?” he murmured.
She smiled, though it was like an arrow to her heart. “That is not what we should be discussing, Your Grace.”
“I would like to.”
She saw something in his eyes, then. They had softened, and he looked like a gentleman who was about to drown at sea. It made her gasp and turn away. She knew that she was blushing, furiously.
“Your Grace,” she said, “that’s not proper.”
“I just…” he sighed heavily, “I would never do anything to hurt you, Eleanor. Please know that.”
Eleanor’s heart was racing. She bit her lip, as she turned to face him. His hair was wet, falling into his eyes. He looked at her with such tenderness. She imagined what would happen, if he should lean in, lowering his pouty lips to hers. She felt butterflies in her stomach, accompanied by a feeling she’d never experienced before. Her breath hitched, and she knew that she was blushing.
They had stopped walking. They were just behind a stand of trees, which was the only thing in between them and being in sight of Myrtlegrove Manor. She opened her mouth, almost daring to say yes.
Then she heard the sound of hooves, thundering toward them. She smiled at him, then turned to see that Martin, was riding toward them.
“Lord Mallen said that Pansy has lost a shoe,” he said. “It took me a bit to find you.”
“Well, you have found us,” he replied. “We have been on our way, albeit slowly.”
“Ah. Oh dear. I’ll take her, then. Why don’t you ride back, Your Grace?” Martin suggested. “So you don’t catch your death of cold.”
“Only if you ride with me, Eleanor,” the Duke said.
“Oh, I couldn’t.”
“If you catch your death of cold, then I don’t want it on my soul,” he said. “You can ride behind me.” It was an order, not a request. He climbed up into the saddle, then held out his hand. Eleanor glanced at Martin, who smiled at her.
She allowed the Duke to pull her up, onto the back of Tristan. She rode pillion behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He urged the stallion into a canter, riding back toward Myrtlegrove Manor.
She had never yet been this close to him. She would never have dared touch him. She could feel the hardness of his ribs, his muscular form. They said nothing on the way back. All too soon, they were within sight of the house.
She was relieved that Martin had come along when he did. No Duke could seriously consider a maid. Eleanor had no thought to become a wanton. She was pleased to simply be Eleanor. That was all.
When she arrived, Lady Julia ran out, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. “Oh, Eleanor! You’re soaked!” she gasped in concern.
“Indeed, My Lady. So are you. We should go and get you into dry clothes!”
Eleanor was relieved to usher her lady up the stairs. As they went, she glanced back. The Duke’s eyes were still on her. She felt a twinge—it was a warm, excited twinge. She spun around quickly, following Lady Julia.
Chapter 10
Eleanor had helped Julia to take off her wet clothes, putting her in a dry robe. She pulled out the pins from Julia’s disheveled hair. She had brought a towel, and was attempting to dry it.
“Now, you go and get out of those wet things,” Julia ordered. She was comfortable, and she couldn’t bear the thought that Eleanor was still soaked through.
“Not until you’re dressed, My Lady. Your hair will never be dry before dinner.”
“If it’s not, then it’s no matter,” Lady Julia said. “Everyone else will have wet hair, too.”
“Not the Dowager Duchess,” Eleanor replied. Julia refused to be moved on the matter.
“I am going to sit by the fire and wait for you,” Lady Julia said in a tone that brooked no argument. “I don’t know what I would do if you caught your death of cold, Eleanor.”
Their eyes met, Julia shot her the most forceful look that she could muster. They both laughed. Eleanor curtsied. “I’ll return shortly, My Lady.” She went to the door on the other side of the room, going into the little maid’s room.
Mrs. Fallmire, the housekeeper, entered, the tray of tea things that she had called for in her hands.
“Your tea, My Lady,” she said.
“Set it here, on the table,” Julia ordered. She set it down, then poured Julia a steaming hot cup. “I like lemon and sugar, Mrs. Fallmire.” She had ordered a second cup, for Eleanor.
“Anything else that I can get for you, My Lady?” Mrs. Fallmire asked, handing Julia her cup on a saucer. The Dowager Duchess’ china was white, with a silver rim.
“That will be all, thank you, Mrs. Fallmire.” The housekeeper curtsied, and then left.
Julia poured out a cup for Eleanor. Just as she was finishing, Eleanor came back in. She was dressed in a simple black dress. She had left off her pinafore, which was more than fine with Julia. Her mother had all of the ladies maids wear frilly white pinafores. They were garish and unnecessary.
“Sit down, Eleanor,” Julia ordered, “and drink this cup of tea.”
“At least let me wrap a blanket around you, My Lady.”
“As you wish.” She allowed Eleanor to wrap her up. Despite being summer, the rain had caused the temperature to plummet, but with the fire and the blanket, Julia would be just fine. Once Eleanor was finished, she sat down in the other armchair. Together, they sipped their cups of tea.
“What an exciting afternoon,” Julia commented.
“Indeed.” Eleanor raised her cup to her lips. Her eyes were on the fire.
“What did you and the Duke talk about?” Julia wanted to know what he said in her absence. She couldn’t help but feel that there were other facets to His Grace. She wanted to know them before she became engaged to him.
“Nothing, My Lady,” she replied, looking her way. Eleanor looked pained. “We were so intent on getting the horse back without any injury.”
“I see.” Julia couldn’t see Eleanor speaking much with the Duke. She was shy, and had never before met anyone of his caliber. Eleanor had likely been tongue-tied.
Eleanor glanced at her, worry in her eyes. “Did I do wrong, My Lady?”
“No. It couldn’t have been helped,” Julia replied. There was a soft knock on the door, and her mother peered in.
“Mother!” Julia said, brightening. Her mother doted upon her.
“Stay where you are,” Lady Whitecier replied. “I was just coming to check on you.” She was dressed for
dinner, in a fine blue-and-white striped silk, hemmed with French lace. Her blonde hair was piled on her head, with a modish ostrich feather.
“We are both quite well,” Julia assured her.
“Neither one of you had better catch a cold,” her mother said. She stood, studying Julia with concern. “Julia, Darling, are you sure you’re well?” Lady Whitecier was always worried. She would fret over her only living child. Julia knew that it was because she’d lost Julia’s three siblings to illness. It was the Countess’ one fear.
“Quite well, Mother.” She smiled up at her. Her mother chucked her under the chin with two fingers.
“Well, I will go and assure the Dowager Duchess that you are well,” she said. “She sent word to let her know. She would also like to know if you’d like your dinner sent up.”
“I’ll be down for dinner,” Julia promised. “I just want some time for my hair to dry.”
“Of course, Darling. We wouldn’t want you to look bedraggled in front of your husband-to-be. Not to mention, the Dowager Duchess has invited the Duke and Duchess of Edgeriver tonight.”
“They’re coming?” Julia’s pulse raced. The Duke and Duchess of Edgeriver were not often among the ton. They spent most of their time out in the countryside. To have them coming to meet her was a compliment indeed!
“They are,” her mother said. “I think you should wear your blue silk. It brings out the color of your eyes and your hair.”
“Of course, Mother.”
“Very good. I’ll go and let the Dowager Duchess know that you’re well. She’s very concerned.” Julia and Eleanor were silent while Lady Whitecier bustled out, shutting the door behind her.
“A report to the Dowager Duchess, that you are well,” Eleanor mused.
“Indeed. Heaven forfend she think that I’m sickly.” They both laughed. Julia considered what her life would be like, there at Myrtlegrove Manor. She would have a Mother-in-Law who doted upon her, a husband who was kind. The Duke and Duchess of Edgeriver coming over to visit.
I will be a Duchess, and I will have everything that I could ever want.
She couldn’t help but feel that there was more to the Duke than was immediately visible. She was curious about him, but felt like once she knew that hidden side of him, then perhaps she would begin to fall in love with him.
The only thing is, I want to believe in love, like Eleanor does.
When she glanced over at her lady’s maid, Eleanor was still watching the flames dance in the fireplace. She sipped her tea absent-mindedly. Julia wondered what had her so quiet. She was usually very talkative. She was pensive. Julia let her be—she had to prepare herself to meet the Duke and Duchess.
Aaron had changed into dry clothes, then walked down to the parlor. As soon as he entered, the butler announced the arrival of the Duke and Duchess of Edgeriver. He had almost forgotten that he’d invited them a few days prior. His step-mother had wanted them to meet Lady Julia. As the closest neighbors, and the highest in prestige, their approbation was necessary, in Louisa’s opinion.
Aaron liked the both of them immensely. They were old family friends. He poured himself a brandy while he waited for their arrival. He was the first down, and suspected that it would be a while before the others were dry enough to make their appearance.
The door opened, and Stanley looked in. “The Duke and Duchess of Edgeriver, Your Grace.”
Aaron smiled, crossing the room to greet them. Their dark hair was streaked with gray. They had been good friends of his father. Though, after he had married Louisa, they had been to Myrtlegrove Manor less, then even less than that after his father’s death.
“It has been a very long time since we last met,” the Duchess said. When she smiled, there were wrinkles like parentheses around her mouth. She had on a simple silk gown in midnight blue, and her hair was parted in the middle, and then pulled back in a bun. Around her neck, she wore two strands of pearls.
Aaron bowed to them both. “Indeed, it has.”
“We were just saying that we should host a ball over at Edgeriver Manor,” she went on, looking tenderly at her husband. “To counterbalance how reclusive we’ve been of late.”
“We were indeed,” the Duke commented. “Now that we will make the acquaintance of your guests, we shall be even more decided to do so.” The lines in his face were even more deeply carved than Aaron recalled. His green eyes seemed set deeper beneath his bushy eyebrows.
“A ball is always welcome news,” Aaron said. “I should be happy to attend. Everyone should be down forthwith. We had an outing to the lake, earlier. We got caught in the downpour, so they are all drying out.”
“That’s such a shame,” the Duchess exclaimed. “It was such an amiable morning.” Aaron smiled. This was what he recalled of the Duchess of Edgeriver—he had never met anyone else who called a sunny morning in such a manner.
His step-mother entered, along with Lady Whitecier and Lady Julia. They were all dressed in silk, which made a swishing sound as they moved. Both the Dowager Duchess and Lady Whitecier wore ostrich feathers, which swooped over their heads.
“Your Graces,” Aaron said. “I would like for you to make the acquaintance of the Countess of Whitecier, and her daughter, Lady Julia. This is the Duke and Duchess of Edgeriver.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the Duchess said. “The Dowager Duchess of Durnsott mentioned that you would be visiting. You must come over to Edgeriver Hall for tea, along with the Dowager Duchess.”
“It would be our pleasure,” Lady Whitecier said. “You are too kind.”
“I will send an invitation,” the Duchess of Edgeriver replied.
Aaron could tell that they were going to get along well. He turned to the Duke of Edgeriver, who was watching his wife with such love in his eyes.
I wish that I felt that way about Lady Julia. Aaron stopped himself from thinking about who he did feel that way for.
“Would you like a drink, Your Grace?” he asked.
“Yes, please,” the Duke replied. Aaron moved to the sideboard, where he poured out a few fingers of brandy for him. “Thank you, Your Grace.” The Duke lifted the glass to his lips. Aaron followed suit.
They stood in companionable silence, half-listening to the ladies, who were all talking about roses. Jack and Arthur entered. Aaron watched while Jack went over to the ladies. Arthur approached the Dukes.
“Your Grace,” Arthur said, bowing.
“Lord Mallen,” the Duke of Edgeriver replied. “I didn’t know that you were visiting, as well.”
“Indeed, I am,” Arthur said. “I came right from my hunting lodge.”
“I asked him to come,” Aaron added. “I value his opinion on certain matters.”
“Such as matters of the heart?” the Duke asked, smiling knowingly. Aaron had told them everything about why the Countess of Whitecier and her daughter were there for a visit.
“Precisely.” Aaron nodded.
The Duke sighed. “I was very lucky to fall in love with Hannah before we married.”
“Was she the very same lady that your parents chose for you?” Aaron asked, curiously.
“No.” He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Not at all. But the moment that I met her, I couldn’t imagine marrying anyone else. There was an awful fight with my Father, at first. But I stood my ground.”
“Was it worth it?” Aaron asked.
“Of course it was,” the Duke replied. “We’ve had our share of hardship, but I wouldn’t have done anything differently.”
Aaron looked over at the ladies, who were all laughing at something that Jack had just said. He saw Lady Julia in her fine blue silk, but his mind was on Eleanor. She had not come down. He wondered what she was doing. He hoped that she hadn’t caught a chill after becoming hopelessly caught in the rain with him.
His mind went to how she had looked at him. Her eyes had been soft—she had looked at him in the way that the Duke of Edgeriver looked at his Duchess. Aaron felt that keenly.
I should have kissed her, then.
Aaron thought of her lush, pink lips—the way that she bit the bottom one when she was nervous. His skin heated at the thought. He cleared his throat, taking a generous sip of his drink.
Lady Julia could see that the Duke—her Duke— was talking to the Duke of Edgeriver. She wondered what they were discussing. She was just about to walk over and join them, when Lord Jack approached her.
They stood off to the side, while the older ladies discussed an acquaintance that they all had in common.
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