Undressed to Impress the Duke : A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Scarlett Osborne

  Eleanor could hear his footsteps in the grass. She felt strangely comforted by his presence. She knew that she had feelings, no matter how much she wished that those feelings didn’t exist. They were there. The Duke would not leave her alone until he knew that she was no longer crying.

  She continued to walk, until she was finally out of sight of Myrtlegrove Manor. She kept going. Walking always calmed her. Her tears had dried, thankfully. She stopped, sitting down on a bench, which overlooked a wide vista. From here, she could see the lake.

  The old wood creaked beneath her. At one time, it had been painted white. But most of the paint had peeled away, leaving soft, weathered wood. Eleanor wrapped her arms around her, staring out at the lake.

  The sun shone down, making the water sparkle.

  The Duke approached, sitting down beside her. He did not ask her permission. Not that she would have been able to tell the Duke of Durnsott what to do. They sat in silence. Eleanor could smell the scent of his cologne. Always, should she smell it, she would think of him.

  “My Father used to sit here,” he said at last. “It was his favorite view. He would walk out here, every day.” Eleanor could only surmise that his father had passed—he was the Duke, after all. She could tell from the tone of his voice that he missed him.

  “It’s lovely.”

  “Yes. It is. I can only imagine what he’d think of my actions.” He sniffed. “I’m sorry if I upset you, Eleanor.” When he spoke her name, it was like he was uttering a prayer.

  “I forgive you, Your Grace.”

  “It doesn’t sound like it.”

  “As you wish. I cannot deny you what you ask.”

  “You’re being very hard on me,” he said.

  “Someone has to be,” she replied, thinking again of Mansfield Park. The heroine, Fanny Price, always loved Edmund. She never stopped, no matter how Henry Crawford, the villain, tried to convince her otherwise.

  But I do not have an Edmund.

  Eleanor didn’t know what to do with her hands. She placed them in her lap, then let them rest upon the bench. She felt twitchy with nerves. He took her hand in his. It felt comforting. She looked over at him. Her pulse raced. She didn’t know what she would do, should someone see them there, like this.

  “I do not like seeing you so sad,” he said, his brow furrowed, his eyes soft.

  He’s not a villain at all, she thought, looking into his eyes. “I think you’re going to have to get used to it.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  He kissed her, again. This kiss was not frenzied like the first. It was gentle, loving. Eleanor felt something inside of her awaken. She hadn’t known what it was, when she had spoken of love.

  Now she did. It was this. With the very last individual that she could have imagined.

  Chapter 12

  Aaron and Eleanor walked back to Myrtlegrove. She walked far ahead of him. For they couldn’t do anything but agree—to be seen walking together would be the talk of the whole estate. Aaron wished that he could send his step-mother away. Louisa was always watching him, looking for things to censure. Surely, being seen unaccompanied with Lady Julia’s maid would be something that she would never let him forget.

  Aaron watched Eleanor enter the house, turning to look at him as she entered. He half-raised his hand. She nodded, then disappeared inside.

  I wish that she was a lady. Then, all I would have to do would be to convince her Father to give me her hand. He envied the Duke of Edgeriver.

  He glanced around. There were servants, moving around the grounds. There were gardeners, stable boys, maids. Everywhere he looked, there were eyes. Anyone could have seen them. He doubted that they would tell his step-mother.

  He went inside. He walked the halls of Myrtlegrove, aimlessly as he thought. He felt like a ghost, haunting his own home. He had parted from Eleanor, not wholly sure what had just occurred. They would proceed with caution. He had no idea

  He felt…happy. He didn’t recall the last time he’d been in the pursuit of something that wasn’t done merely out of duty. Arthur peered out of the library as Aaron passed.

  “There you are,” Arthur said. “I’ve been looking for you. Where have you been?”

  “Walking the grounds,” he said. “I was in the stables for a little while. It’s a nice day out, for once. Not a cloud in the sky.” He frowned, wondering if he should tell Arthur what had just occurred. “I need to tell you something, Arthur.”

  “All right, then.” Arthur’s brow furrowed in concern. Aaron found that he wanted to admit everything to his friend. He needed advice, or even to be told that he had lost his mind entirely.

  “Care for a glass of something?” Aaron knew that if he told Arthur, it would go no further. Perhaps, he might even have some advice. Aaron was in sore need of it.

  “I can always go for a brandy.”

  “Perfect.” Aaron tugged nervously at his cravat. They both walked to Aaron’s study, which was just at the end of the hall. Aaron closed the door behind them. His study was decorated in dark wood. It was cool in there, since the sun was on the other side of the house.

  Aaron gathered his thoughts, while he poured them both generous glasses of brandy. He handed one to Arthur, who sank down into one of the leather armchairs. Aaron paced the floor as he sipped.

  “Did something happen?” Arthur asked, gently. “You seem like a tiger in his cage.”

  “I just kissed Lady Julia’s maid,” he admitted.

  Arthur stared at him in mild surprise. “She is very comely,” he said. “I never pegged you for a rake, Aaron.”

  “I’m not trying to seduce her,” he said. Now, Arthur’s surprise was palpable. Aaron took a sip of his drink, feeling the burn of it travelling down his throat.

  “To what end?” Arthur asked. “What will you do?”

  “I don’t know, Arthur. But she’s everything. I’ve never met another person like her, in all my acquaintance. I know that you can’t understand—”

  “But I do understand,” Arthur said. “You’re clearly smitten. But I can’t help but to remind you that she is the maid of the lady who you are supposed to be courting. Will you marry Lady Julia just to have Eleanor close by?”

  “No. I can’t.” That was utterly wrong. The morals of the situation were untenable. Aaron knew what was in his heart. He just didn’t know what to do.

  “Then what?”

  “I don’t know. I want to act honorably, but that would mean letting her go.”

  “An impossible situation,” Arthur murmured.

  “It is.”

  That he could never pursue Eleanor, not truly, made him desperately sad. He could never hope for anything. And yet—he couldn’t give her up, either.

  There was no way forward, but there was no going back.

  “Well,” Arthur said. “I suppose you’ll need my help.” Aaron smiled at his friend. It was good to have someone on his side.

  Eleanor’s mind was still a whirl. She sat in her little room, that was just off of Lady Julia’s bed chamber. It was a plain room. The walls were white, and there was just the bed, and a wash stand, her own little trunk at the foot of the bed. In her hands, she still held Mansfield Park. Olivia had bought it for her, as a birthday present when she turned eighteen.

  To think that I’m living a story almost as romantic, but tragic.

  Eleanor was a maid. That was the cold, hard truth. A maid could never marry a Duke. He was so high above her, that she would never be able to reach him. Not in a million years.

  I don’t want to cry again. She set aside her book. There was no comfort to be found between its pages. She got up, walking out into Lady Julia’s chamber. The door opened, and her mistress entered.

  “Oh, Eleanor!” she gushed. “We had the most splendid day.” Lady Julia was grinning. “The Duchess of Edgeriver was ever so kind to me, and the Dowager Duchess says that I will be able to help plan a ball, right here.”

  Lady Julia continued to speak, walking o
ver to her dressing table. Eleanor trailed after her.

  “I’ll need your advice, Eleanor,” Lady Julia said. “I don’t know if I can do it all on my own.”

  “Of course, My Lady.” Eleanor attempted to smile. From the look of concern on Lady Julia’s face, she knew immediately that she had failed.

  “Have you been crying, Eleanor?” Lady Julia took her by the hand.

  “No. I’m just tired.”

  “Oh, I’ve only been thinking about my own joy,” Julia murmured. “I didn’t think about how overwhelmed you must feel.”

  Eleanor blushed, lowering her gaze. “It’s no matter. No matter at all.” She hoped, fervently, that Lady Julia would drop the subject. She couldn’t possibly tell her what had happened. At the thought of what had happened in the stables, her heart raced.

  “But you surely must miss Mrs. Betham,” Lady Julia said. “She’s like a mother to you.”

  “That’s true,” Eleanor allowed. How do I tell Lady Julia that I kissed her future husband? Stop it, Eleanor! She mustn’t find out!

  As she looked into Lady Julia’s concerned, kind face, she felt guilt.

  “Would you like to remain in here, for the evening?” Lady Julia asked. “Perhaps, what you need is the night off.”

  “Yes, thank you.” The very last thing that Eleanor wanted in that moment was to run into the Duke of Durnsott. She was not fully mistress of her own emotions, which felt like a pair of runaway horses.

  She helped Lady Julia dress for dinner, then waited until she and Lady Whitecier had gone down. She breathed out a sigh of relief. She wouldn’t have to face him that evening. That was good.

  I can’t avoid him forever, though.

  The next morning, the three ladies rode over in the Duke of Durnsott’s barouche-landau, with the collapsible tops down. They all kept their parasols up, to keep the sun off of them.

  “The Duchess of Edgeriver is most discerning about who she invites for tea,” the Dowager Duchess said. “An invitation is a sure sign that your star is rising, My Dear.”

  Julia shared a smile with her mother.

  “This is what Lord Whitecier and I had hoped for Julia,” Lady Whitecier said. “That she would be so welcomed among Society.”

  “I do have to warn you both…” the Dowager Duchess went on, “the Duke and Duchess suffered the loss of their only child, many years ago.”

  “How dreadful,” Lady Julia gasped.

  “Yes. It would be best to not discuss it,” Her Grace said. “They are about to host their heir—he’s a distant cousin, who will be inheriting all, since they were never able to have another.” She shook her head. “Alas.”

  “We will be sure to keep the discussion away from it,” Lady Whitecier said, glancing over at her daughter.

  “For certain,” Julia agreed.

  The carriage pulled into the drive. Julia gasped. Edgeriver Hall was a large sandstone building. There were easily four floors, with long rows of shining windows lining them. In front, there was a porch with four large Doric columns. It was, simply put, stunning.

  The Duchess of Edgeriver was waiting for them on the porch. She stood up from the bench, where she had been sitting. She had a bonnet on, as though she were prepared to go out.

  “Welcome!” she said. Julia smiled as she rose up from her curtsy. The Duchess of Edgeriver was an interesting lady. Most would await their guests in their withdrawing room or parlor.

  “You didn’t have to greet us in the drive,” the Dowager Duchess of Durnsott said.

  “Oh, but I wanted to,” she said. Julia wondered what she planned. The Duchess smiled at her and winked.

  “Thank you for inviting us,” Lady Whitecier told her.

  “You are most welcome here, Lady Whitecier,” the Duchess replied. “You and Lady Julia. Now. You must all come with me.” She waved for them to follow.

  This sounds like an adventure.

  The ladies all followed the Duchess of Edgeriver, around to the back of the house. Julia was excited to find out what was on the other side. The Dowager Duchess talked the whole way.

  She loves to be the center of attention, Julia mused to herself.

  “I was telling the Countess and Lady Julia that you are to receive your husband’s heir very soon,” the Dowager Duchess said as they turned the corner, to find themselves in a luxurious garden.

  Julia gasped at the sight of it. There were fruit trees, and a sunken garden, situated around a large fountain, where stone horses leapt from the water.

  “Indeed. We are looking forward to hosting him here,” the Duchess of Edgeriver replied with a smile. Julia didn’t see a trace of the Duchess’ sadness. She supposed that it had been a long time since her child had passed, and she was perhaps used to it, by then.

  The Duchess paused by a very fine rose bush. The roses were fully blown and as white as newly-fallen snow, on the dark-green bush. Julia had never seen roses so brilliantly white before. It reminded her of fairytales.

  “Oh! This is absolutely gorgeous!” the Dowager Duchess said.

  “It reminds me of that fairytale,” Julia commented. “The one about Snow White.”

  “I thought so too,” the Duchess agreed with another wink. Julia smiled at her. The Duchess of Edgeriver was just the sort of person that she might be friends with.

  “And about your heir—he must join us at Myrtlegrove Manor,” the Dowager Duchess said. “I will be sure to have a full seven courses.”

  Julia felt like she had, perhaps, taken the attention away from the Dowager Duchess, who was smiling at her a little too widely.

  I wonder what happens when she feels threatened. It gave her a bit of a chill.

  “You are too kind,” the Duchess said, folding her hands in front of her. Julia was struck by the simplicity and elegance of her manner and dress. Beside the Dowager Duchess of Durnsott, who was wearing diamonds and silk, the Duchess was wearing a soft-gray muslin, her hair in a simple bun. She wore only her wedding ring, and a simple pearl and diamond necklace.

  “Not at all,” the Dowager Duchess replied. “He can mix with the others. We have so many young people at Myrtlegrove Manor these days. I am often reminded of my younger days, when we would host grand fetes. That was back when I was a newly-married lady.”

  “Come, let’s go to our tea, shall we?” the Duchess suggested. The ladies turned toward the house. Even the back of it was grand to look at—there was a terrace, with a sweeping staircase that opened up into the gardens.

  “Wouldn’t a ball be grand?” the Dowager Duchess went on, “I will have to speak to Aaron. I’m sure he would love to have one. He has not thrown one in many a year. To be honest, Lady Julia, I truly believe that he’s been waiting to find the right wife, to help him with these things.”

  “Julia is very good at it,” her mother added. “She has quite the eye for decorations.”

  Julia smiled demurely.

  “I’m sure she is,” the Dowager Duchess agreed. She leaned in. “I’ll teach you everything I know, Lady Julia.”

  “How kind of you,” Julia murmured, taking a leaf out of the Duchess of Edgeriver’s book. She found herself wondering if there was something more to the Dowager Duchess. Something behind that smile and all of the talk about herself.

  The ladies were all out for tea at Edgeriver Hall. So, Aaron and Arthur had conspired to get Jack out of the house, as well. Arthur had made short work of convincing Jack to accompany him into town. All he’d had to do was mention a stop at the pub, and Jack had agreed immediately.

  As soon as Arthur and Jack had ridden down the drive, Aaron went looking for Eleanor. He found her, carrying a basket, filled with Lady Julia’s clean laundry. She paused, glancing around. He felt as though he were cornering her.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  “Your Grace.” Her eyes were cast downward, so that her long lashes touched her cheeks.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “To my lady’s bed chamber.” She raised
her gaze, one of her eyebrows moving upward, questioningly.

  “Come with me to the stables.” He watched as her cheeks turned red. She opened her mouth to speak. “Please. Everyone’s out.”

  “How do you know, Your Grace?”

  “I’ve sent Arthur out with my Brother. My Mother and the other ladies have gone to tea.”

  “The servants will talk.”