Then, she slipped from the room, walking as silently as a shadow through the house. It was very quiet, after all of the noise and bustle of the ballroom. Eleanor felt like she’d been wrung out. She’d experienced so many emotions throughout the night. When she arrived up in the bell tower, she could see Aaron. He was a dark silhouette against the night sky.
He turned toward her. She went to him, letting him clasp her to him. She closed her eyes, turning her face upwards, so that he could kiss her. It was perfect. His hands pressed into her lower back. When he pulled away, he sighed. Her eyes met his.
“Eleanor,” he murmured. His coat lay on the floor, with his cane. His cravat was loose, and the top buttons of his shirt, baring his smooth chest.
“Yes?” she asked. He took her hand in his.
“I want to marry you,” he said, “if you’ll have me.”
“How?” she asked, smiling. His eyes were soft as he raised the back of her hand to his lips, kissing it tenderly.
“We would elope,” he replied, holding her close. “We’ll go to the little village church nearby. It’ll be filled with sunlight, and just the two of us and the priest.”
“What about Lord Mallen?”
“We can stay here,” he said. “Keep everyone occupied, so that by the time they realize we’re gone, we’ll already be wed, and they won’t be able to do a thing about it.”
The thought of a sun-drenched wedding, with just her and Aaron was a beautiful dream. She wanted it. “Where will we go after?” she asked.
“My Mother’s family has a manor house by the sea,” he replied. “There’s a small staff there, to take care of its upkeep. I can arrange for them to prepare it for our arrival.”
She leaned in, pressing her lips to his. She wanted for everyone else to vanish. “Love me, Aaron,” she begged.
“As you wish, My Darling,” he whispered huskily. He trailed kisses along her collarbone. She moved her head to the side, letting him shower her with kisses. The touch of his lips against her skin brought all of the heat to the surface. She felt anticipation, crashing over her in waves.
He lay her down, on the floor, where he had draped his coat. She settled onto the soft wool folds of it. His hands roved her body, teasing her through the fabric. Eleanor inhaled, smelling the scent of his skin, now as familiar as her own. She kissed him back with equal passion.
His tongue dipped between her lips, parting them. Eleanor moaned against his mouth as he ran his tongue over her teeth. Though they had done this before, that night felt different. More urgent, fevered. She had hungered for him for days. And now, she craved his touch.
She lay back, letting his hands smooth up her legs. His weight was over her, his hips pressed to hers, his manhood hard against her leg through the fabric of his breeches. She knew that he would not go any further. He would only satisfy her need, until the day he wed her.
As they kissed, she wondered—could they do it? Elope, and to Hell with the consequences? She let herself be in the moment as he pulled away, looking into her eyes. Eleanor took his face in her hands, bringing his lips to hers. Her eyes closed. She kissed him, long and deep.
Aaron’s fingers deftly moved inside of her. With each stroke, pleasure built within her. Eleanor gasped as he brought her to completion. Her soft moans sounded in the late night air. She opened her eyes, to find him watching her. The love that she saw emblazoned across his face was echoed in her own.
“I love you,” he whispered. She covered his lips with hers, showing him how she loved him, instead of saying it. She gave him all that she could.
She pulled away, gasping as she recalled Lord Whitecier’s threat. The magic of the moment dispersed. She looked at Aaron, and knew that they couldn’t do it.
As much as she loved him, she could not have him to keep. The world would never see them in the way that they saw themselves. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. For Eleanor, this was their final time together. She was saying goodbye to him.
“Eleanor,” he asked, reaching up to brush away her tears. “Darling, what’s the matter?”
She sat up, and he watched her closely. Aaron wondered what had happened to make her cry like this. In his amorous passion, he had unbuttoned the top of Eleanor’s dress, revealing her shoulder as she turned away from him. He touched the star-shaped birthmark on her shoulder. He leaned in, kissing it tenderly. He frowned. It was so distinctive. Something stirred in the back of his memory.
“Eleanor,” he begged, “please, speak to me.”
“You cannot marry me,” she said to his absolute shock. “I am a maid. I am utterly common. I will always be so. I can’t be a Duchess. It would be a jest, for certain.”
Aaron hadn’t thought of what anyone else would think. They didn’t matter, and he was surprised to hear that she thought so.
“I want you, Eleanor. Only you. You don’t have to be a Duchess. Certainly not like Louisa. Just be yourself. But be with me,” he urged. The thought of going on without her by his side seemed like a half-life.
“I cannot, and you know it,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“I cannot bear to live without you.” Why is she saying this? He looked into her eyes, which were so sad. “Did someone say something to you?” She flinched, which confirmed it. He wondered who it had been.
“You must live without me, I’m afraid,” she said, sniffling. She still wouldn’t look him in the eyes. “You cannot change the ton, nor can I. Lady Julia is your equal in every way.”
“I refuse. I refuse to believe that you believe this.” Aaron would prove it to her. He meant to. “We can…we can run away. Right this moment. We can go and be wed this very morning. It will be done before anyone else can stop us.”
He had planned to do it. Saying the words aloud, he knew that it was the only thing that they could do. If she agreed, then he would be happy to go. He had known the village priest since he had been a child. The man would marry them without a word against it.
Standing up, Eleanor buttoned the top buttons of her dress, then she moved away from him. Her hair had fallen out of its bun, and it hung loose over her shoulders. She looked so lovely that it made his heart break.
Aaron used his cane to stand up, his knee making protestations. He followed her as she moved toward the balustrade. The night sky was lightening as dawn neared. The birds were calling out to each other as they woke.
It was a new day, but if Aaron was going to be without Eleanor, then it would be the end of him. He was ready to convince her that he would do anything for her.
Aaron stepped toward her. She didn’t look at him, and he reached out, to caress her cheek. For a moment, she leaned her head into his touch, and he felt hope. Then, Eleanor burst into tears. “I don’t love you,” she said, pulling away. He stared at her in utter devastation. “Not as you love me. And I don’t think that I ever will.”
Each word was like a knife, cutting him deeply as she said it. He could only stare at her, dumbstruck. He waited, blinking, his mouth agape.
She sobbed, softly. She looked at him one last time. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Tears spilling down her cheeks, she ran from the room.
Aaron could hardly believe what he had just heard. He stood there, in absolute shock. His mind went over it, Eleanor, telling him that she did not love him.
It was exactly what had happened with his first romance, except this was worse, because he had truly believed that Eleanor had loved him back.
He had thought her different. Part of him did not believe it—she must have been lying. He couldn’t think of a blessed reason why. And so, the other part of him had accepted it, and was shattered in pieces. He gripped his cane, staggering though the house.
He made his way slowly to his bedchamber, leaning heavily on his cane. He felt like he had aged fifty years in the last few moments. His body and soul felt as though they had been broken beyond any hope of repair. He had never felt so weary in all his life.
I don’t want to beli
eve this, but why would she say it if it wasn’t true?
Chapter 35
Eleanor had not been to sleep. She had returned to her own chamber, slipping through Lady Julia’s on her way. She managed to stop crying, long enough to make her way past her sleeping mistress.
And then, she threw herself across her bed and cried until she had nothing left. She had known that it would be hard. But, when he had refused to believe it, she’d had to lie. All she had wanted was to say yes. That she would elope with him.
But the world had not been created so that lady’s maids could live happily ever after. She wondered why she had ever believed in Miss Austen’s stories. No one ever got what they wanted. Only what they deserved.
Finally, she heard the bell, up in the tower, chiming the hour. Eleanor went through the motions of the morning—she dressed quickly, then went down for her breakfast. Her limbs felt heavy from exhaustion. Her chest ached with grief. It was like her own heart had been torn out of her breast. If she kept herself at work, then her mind would not have time to think about what had happened last night.
She had done it to save Aaron, hadn’t she? She wanted to protect him from making a grave mistake. Otherwise, they would have likely been married that very morning. There was no going back, though. She brought Lady Julia’s tray up to her from the kitchens.
When she entered the bed chamber, Lady Julia was sitting up in bed. Her eyes were puffy from her tears the night before. Her golden hair was mussed from sleep, tumbling over her shoulders.
“Good morning, My Lady,” Eleanor said, setting the tray on Julia’s lap. She poured out a cup of tea, stirring in the correct amount of cream and sugar.
“Morning, Eleanor,” Lady Julia replied softly. She picked up the teacup, and then sat, staring into it, as though she could read her own future there.
Eleanor walked briskly to the window, opening up the heavy curtains. Once done, she began to set out Lady Julia’s clothing for the day. Lady Julia herself was quiet. Neither of them spoke as Julia picked at the breakfast on her tray.
Eleanor wanted nothing more than to just forget the night before. To leave Myrtlegrove Manor and go back to her life at Clayriver Manor, which was small, but had always suited her just fine. She had been content with her lot in life. Until she had met the Duke of Durnsott.
When she turned back to her mistress, Julia had barely touched her breakfast. She was staring into space, a blank look on her face.
“I’ll be right back,” Eleanor promised, taking the tray. She could tell that her mistress wasn’t going to eat anything.
Then, she left the room, walking down the hall, with the tray of untouched food and tea. When she heard raised voices in the Dowager Duchess’ rooms, she paused. Glancing up and down the hall, Eleanor found that she was alone. So, she leaned in to listen at the door.
“We’ll do it today,” the Dowager Duchess was saying, causing Eleanor’s blood to run chill. She sounded so confident.
“Now, I have to become the Duke,” Lord Ayles replied. “If only to wipe that smug look off of Lord Whitecier’s face when I rightfully demand his daughter’s hand.” Eleanor’s pulse raced. This was a turn of events that she hadn’t foreseen.
“Well, don’t worry,” the Dowager Duchess assured him. “It’s as good as done. This is dreadfully effective. All I have to do is fix Aaron a cup of tea. It’s far easier than kidnapping a child. You were meant to be the Duke, my son. Just as you were meant to wed Lady Julia. Honestly, the girl is already in love with you. You’ve done such a good job of wooing her.”
Lord Ayles laughed coldly. “She was an easy catch. She craves the idea of being in love. When she finds out that we are able to marry, she will be pleased, no doubt. She has very little love for my brother.”
“Aaron was lucky last time. This time, he won’t be,” the Dowager Duchess said, causing a chill to run down Eleanor’s spine. “Bradshaw was sloppy, but I won’t be.”
I have to warn him. His own family wants him dead.
Eleanor’s hands shook, causing the cup and cutlery to clatter on the tray. She felt sick to her stomach, and her heart pounded. She froze. The voices inside the room had gone silent.
“Is someone at the door?” the Dowager Duchess asked. Eleanor panicked, causing the whole tray to fall to the floor with a loud crash. She stared down at the mess in horror.
There was no time to run— the door opened, and Lord Ayles’ face was livid as he beheld Eleanor. He grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her roughly inside the room. She stumbled a little, catching herself just in time. She spun to face them.
“Looks like we have an eavesdropper,” Lord Ayles announced. Eleanor found herself in a small antechamber which contained a writing table and a few chairs. It was papered in yellow-and-white striped silk.
The Dowager Duchess laughed. In her hand, she held a tiny vial, which no doubt, contained poison. Her eyes flashing dangerously. “Oh, it’s Aaron’s little plaything. Bradshaw told me all about their secret trysts. What shall we do with her?”
“Better lock her up,” Lord Ayles said. His mother waved her hand toward one of the doors in the chamber.
“Use my private sitting room. No one will find her there until it’s too late. We can get rid of her later.” The Dowager Duchess spoke of Eleanor as if she were a minor complication—a cobweb that merely needed to be wiped away with a rag.
“You won’t get away with this!” she said. Lady Julia would wonder where she was when she didn’t return, and then send someone to look for her. Someone would surely notice the fallen tray in the hallway…
“I’ve gotten away with making far more important people vanish,” the Dowager Duchess said with a laugh. Lord Ayles, still gripping Eleanor by the arm, pushed her in front of him. Eleanor tried to fight back, but Lord Ayles was strong.
He thrust Eleanor inside the connecting room, and the door slammed closed. She listened, horrified, as a key turned, trapping her inside of a lavish sitting room. As she looked around at the fine, heavy furnishings, the lush oil paintings, her heart was pounding. Aaron was in grave danger and she was the only one who could save him.
Chapter 36
Aaron was surprised when Mr. Stanley peered into the dining room to announce the arrival of the Duke and Duchess of Edgeriver. He was dying of curiosity to solve the mystery about the woman that the Duchess had seen. Who was she, really? Why had she been at the ball the previous night? Was she the missing lady? He looked at Arthur, and the both of them rose from the breakfast table.
“Come,” Aaron said. “I’m eager to find out what conclusions they have come to about the mystery woman last night.”
“Me too,” Arthur agreed. As they were walking to the parlor, Julia was coming down the hallway. Her eyes were puffy and she was frowning. Her hair wasn’t fixed, and it hung loose over her shoulders.
“Have either of you seen Eleanor?” she asked.
“No.” Aaron noticed that Lady Julia’s attire was unevenly fixed—as though she had dressed herself, fastening the row of buttons as best as she could.
“She went to go and bring my tray downstairs and never returned,” Lady Julia explained. “This is completely unlike her.”
Aaron and Arthur shared a look. It would have been one thing if Eleanor had disappeared after her shocking admission to him the night before. But if she had disappeared suddenly this morning…
“Come with us,” Aaron said. “There’s something strange going on at Myrtlegrove Manor. We might all be in danger, so let’s stay together, and see if we can solve one mystery at a time.”
“Good idea, Your Grace,” Lady Julia said.
Together, they all entered the parlor, where the Duke and Duchess of Edgeriver sat with Lord and Lady Whitecier.
“Julia,” Lady Whitecier said. “What’s the matter with your hair?”
“Eleanor’s missing, Mother,” Lady Julia replied, sitting down beside her parents. “We’re trying to find her.”
“Oh, dear,” Lady
Whitecier said, frowning in concern. “How dreadful.”
“Your Graces,” Aaron said, turning his attention toward the Duke and Duchess of Edgeriver, both of whom looked exhausted. It was clear that they had been up late, talking.
“We’re so sorry to call on you so early,” the Duchess said.
“Not at all. I’d like to help you, in every way that I can,” Aaron assured her. “It seems we have a missing maid, as well.”
He leaned on his cane and was trying to organize his thoughts and his method of questioning. He was exhausted—he hadn’t slept at all. He had been too upset. Now, his knee and his temple both throbbed. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.
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