Eleanor concealed her gasp just in time. Clapping a hand over her mouth, she stared at her husband in shocked silence as she began to understand just what Norton was talking about. There was a will, created by the late Duke of Hawkridge, Derek’s grandfather. And within in it he must have made some sort of stipulation that Derek had to marry before his twenty-ninth birthday. She didn’t know exactly what would happen if he didn’t meet the terms of the will…but it wasn’t hard to guess. The title would pass to the next male heir, in this case Norton.
Was that why Derek had returned to Hawkridge? To consummate their marriage and make it legally binding? Had he been plotting to get her into his bed this entire time? Had the last two weeks meant nothing to him?
As she thought of every loving word and every gentle touch they’d exchanged, she felt a hard knot form in the middle of her chest. Lies, she thought as she reeled away from the door. It had all been nothing but one lie after another. Derek didn’t care for her. He never had. He simply hadn’t wanted to lose the dukedom. And as soon as he told his cousin the terms of the will had been met in full, he was going to return to London and she would never see him again.
With a muffled sob she turned on her heel and fled down the hall.
At the sound of a soft cry, Derek whirled around. Biting back a savage curse when he saw a flash of Eleanor’s blue dress as she bolted away from the door, he immediately went after her. He could hear Norton shouting something at him, but his cousin’s whiny voice paled in comparison the dull roaring in his ears.
“See that my cousin is immediately escorted off the property,” he told the first footman he came across. “And if he tries to return, shoot him.”
With that matter finished, he set off to find Eleanor. Knowing a search of the house would prove futile, he went immediately to the old carriage barn. She’d barred the door against him, but with one kick of his boot he sent it crashing open.
“Get out!” Eleanor she cried when he stepped inside, dashing at her cheeks as she rose from the pile of straw she’d been crouched in. Donald and Ronald stood on either side of her, their necks arched and their feathers raised. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“I know what you think you heard,” he began in a low, soothing tone. “But you have to let me explain–”
“Did you or did you not come here with the sole purpose of consummating our marriage so you wouldn’t lose your title to your cousin?” she demanded hotly.
“Yes, that’s why I came here,” he admitted, and pain sliced through him like a dagger to the heart when her bottom lip wobbled. He took a step towards her. Would have taken another if not for Donald and Ronald’s low warning hiss. Damned geese. The things were more dangerous than a pair of wolfhounds. “That’s why I came here,” he repeated, lifting his arms beseechingly. “But it’s not why I stayed.”
With an incredulous snort she turned her head to the side, refusing to meet his gaze.
“Eleanor, look at me,” he said softly. “Please. It’s not what you think.”
Tears shimmered in her eyes as she glared fiercely at him. It was the first time he had ever seen her cry, and his heart ached anew to know that he was the cause of all her pain. If only he’d explained the bloody will before now…but things had been going so well he’d been reluctant to bring it up for fear of this exact reaction.
“I thought – I thought you were falling in love with me,” she whispered.
“I am falling in love with you.” His hands curled into fists. “I have fallen in love with you.”
“No you haven’t,” she said, shaking her head from side to side. “It was all a ruse. An act. You played me like a fool, and the worst thing is that I let you do it.”
“If you would just – dammit!” he exclaimed when he tried to get closer to her and one of the geese lashed out. “Call off your guard dogs, Red. Let me explain.”
Reaching into a metal bin, she picked up a handful of corn and tossed it behind her into the straw. “There,” she said as Ronald and Donald waddled away. “Now you can explain.”
“You’re right about the will. I discovered the terms shortly after my grandfather died and I inherited everything. My relationship with him was…let’s just say it was tumultuous. He knew the last thing I wanted to do was marry, at least before I turned thirty, and so that was the one thing he forced me to do.” Derek’s mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “He also knew I would never allow Hawkridge to go to Norton. As you saw for yourself, the conniving little bastard is even worse than I am.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Eleanor muttered under her breath. “Was it all planned then, from the very beginning?”
“No.” In two strides he was standing directly in front of her. Reaching out, he brushed his thumb across her damp cheek, catching a tear before it could roll down her chin. “You were never planned, Eleanor. I know I haven’t been a good husband to you. I know you have no reason to believe me, other than the fact that I have no reason to lie. So know that I speak the absolute truth when I tell you that you were never the wife I wanted. But you were always the wife I needed,” he murmured into her hair as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her gently against his chest. “I’m just so bloody sorry it took me a damned year to realize it.”
“Eleven months and fifteen days,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.
“What?” he said with a frown.
“Eleven months and fifteen days. That’s exactly how long it took you to realize that you’re hopelessly, helplessly in love with me.” When she tipped back her head all of her tears were gone and she was smiling the brightest, most beautiful smile he had ever seen. At the sight of it he exhaled the breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding and tightened his grip.
“Do you forgive me then?” he asked, gazing down into her brilliant green eyes. Green eyes that were filled with more love and understanding than he had any right to deserve. “I know I should have told you about the will sooner. I was an idiot not to.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “You were. But I do forgive you. On one condition.”
“Anything,” he said instantly.
“Henny has been feeling rather lonely lately–”
“No,” he said, already shaking his head. “That hedgehog has already caused enough damage. We’re not getting another.”
“That hedgehog is the only reason we’re together,” she countered.
When she put it that way…
“Very well. You can have as many hedgehogs as your heart desires.” Lifting her chin, he grinned crookedly down into her beaming face. “But only if you kiss me first.”
With a musical laugh, she threw her arms around his neck. “I thought you’d never ask…”
Epilogue
4 years, 9 months, and 11 days later…
“Mum! Mum! They’re hatching! They’re hatching! Come quickly.” Grabbing onto her mother’s wrist with surprising strength given her diminutive size, four-year-old Olivia dragged a laughing Eleanor out of the drawing room and into the foyer.
“You’ll need a hat and cloak,” Eleanor told her daughter sternly. “It’s cold outside.”
“But it’s spring.” Olivia’s freckled nose scrunched up in defiance. “And you never wear a hat.”
Stubborn little brat, Eleanor thought with great affection. Olivia may have inherited her father’s dark hair, but her freckles and opinionated nature came straight from her mother.
“I will this time.” Reaching into the closet, Eleanor pulled out the first hat she could find, a straw Capote trimmed with blue ribbon and white silk flowers. “There,” she said, adjusting the wide brim so it was centered over her forehead. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Derek drawled as he entered the foyer and kissed his wife’s cheek before looping his arm around her waist and tucking her snugly against his side. “Where are my two favorite ladies off to on this fine morning?”
“The e
ggs are hatching!” Olivia exclaimed, her ebony curls bouncing as she jumped up and down with excitement.
“Are they?” said Derek with wide-eyed surprise. “Well then, this is a very serious occasion indeed. Shall I call for the trumpets?”
The corners of her mouth twitching, Eleanor slanted her husband an amused glance. Nearly six years married and he never failed to make her smile each and every day. She’d thought she was in love with him before their children were born, but it was nothing compared to what she felt for him now.
When her belly was heavy with Olivia he’d confessed to her that he was afraid of what sort of father he would be. Having lost his own at such a young age, he had only his grandfather for comparison, a man whom Eleanor was very glad she never had the occasion to meet.
‘I very nearly ruined our marriage,’ he said, brandy eyes dark with worry. ‘What if I ruin our child? What if he or she despises me?’
‘Just be yourself,’ she told him before taking his hand and pressing it to her abdomen. ‘There, do you feel that strong kick? Our baby loves you already. All you have to do is love him or her in return.’
And he had. First Olivia and then Byron, now eight months old and growing like a weed. Fatherhood had also had the added benefit of making him an even better husband. Gone was the arrogant cad she’d married. In his place was a man who valued family first and foremost. A man who understood what was important in life. A man who finally knew that love wasn’t an inconvenience, but a gift. The most precious gift a person could give or receive.
They still argued, of course. They were both too stubborn not to. But they always made up in the most delicious of ways, and Eleanor was fairly certain one of their latest arguments was going to yield a wonderful surprise in the coming months. It was still too early to know with absolute certainty, but she had a feeling. The same wonderful, glowing feeling she’d had with Olivia and Byron. That, coupled with the fact that she’d tossed up a perfectly good blueberry scone this morning, made her almost positive she was carrying their third child.
“Oh, I don’t think there’s time for trumpets,” she said, looking at Derek with mock seriousness. “Best we get down to the pond as quick as we can.”
“Before all of the eggs hatch!” Olivia shouted, clapping her hands with glee.
“Precisely. Have you seen your brother and Mrs. Faraday?” she asked, referring to the children’s nanny, a sweet woman in her mid-forties who had the patience of a saint, a necessary requirement when dealing with a very stubborn four-year-old.
“She just took Byron to the nursery for another nap.” Olivia’s hands dropped to her waist as she rolled her eyes. “Babies sleep a lot.”
“That they do, half pint.” Derek ruffled his daughter’s hair. “That they do. As soon as you put on a hat like your mother instructed, we can go see if the eggs have hatched.”
Olivia, who wouldn’t hesitate to stand and argue with her mother until her face turned blue, promptly dove into the closet and pulled out both a bonnet and a cloak. Shaking her head at the irony – how as it she’d been the one forced to endure eighteen hours of labor, but it was Derek the children obeyed without fail? – Eleanor helped her daughter dress before swatting her on the rump and sending her out the door. While she ran ahead the duke and duchess followed at a more leisurely pace.
“I’m glad you didn’t go to London this week,” she said, flicking Derek a warm glance from beneath her lashes. While she’d made Hawkridge Castle her permanent residence and only went into town once a year to celebrate Christmas with her parents, a tradition they’d started after Olivia was born, Derek made the short trip twice a month to meet with his solicitor and visit Georgiana, who had settled quite nicely into a townhouse on the edge of Grosvenor Square. Despite their initial misgivings towards one another, she and Eleanor now exchanged regular letters. As soon as the Season was complete she would be returning to Hawkridge for the summer.
“And miss all the excitement?” Derek grinned down at her and shook his head. “Livvy would never let me hear the end of it.”
“That’s true. How many goslings do we think we’ll have this time?” As it turned out, Ronald was really a Ronalda and over the years she and Donald had proven to be quite the prolific pair. They weren’t the only ones. Eleanor’s collection of orphaned and beleaguered animals had grown to fill three carriage barns, part of the stables, and one room in the east wing which was dedicated entirely to hedgehogs.
Farmers and lords alike brought their sick and injured animals to Hawkridge, where Eleanor – along with a small staff dedicated solely to the care of her ever growing menagerie – lovingly tended them back to health.
“Any more than three of the little buggers and we’ll have to dig a larger pond,” Derek said.
“At last count there were twelve.”
The duke stopped short. “A dozen more goslings?”
Eleanor bit her cheek to keep herself from snickering at his incredulous expression. “Mr. Harrington has already said he would like a few. I’m sure we could convince Olivia to part with at least four or five when they’re old enough to leave the nest.”
“At this point I might as well put in a lake and be done with it.” Derek’s eyes narrowed when he saw the sudden gleam in his wife’s gaze. “Don’t get any ideas, Red,” he warned. “I was being facetious.”
“Of course you were,” she said agreeably. “It’s just that with a lake I could take in more water fowl and–”
“COME ON!” Olivia shouted, waving her arms in the air as she reached the water’s edge and the thicket of cattails where Ronalda had made her nest. “THEY’RE HATCHING! THEY’RE HATCHING!”
Eleanor and Derek exchanged an amused glance.
“I suppose we better hurry,” he said gravely.
Laughing, the duke and duchess ran arm in arm towards the pond and a future that was as bright as the sun.
Author’s Note
I sincerely hope you enjoyed the time you spent with Eleanor and Derek! If you could take a few minutes and leave a review, I would greatly appreciate it. Every review counts, especially for indie authors like myself.
And please enjoy this sneak peek at A Dangerous Affair, the newest full-length release in my thrilling Bow Street Bride series! Available now.
A Dangerous Affair
A THIEF WITH NOTHING TO LOSE…
Juliet is beautiful, intelligent…and one of the best thieves in all of London. Raised in the cutthroat streets of St Giles, she’s learned to survive by whatever means necessary. Even if those means include pretending to be a highborn lady to avoid capture by The Wolf, one of Bow Street’s most cunning runners…and the only man to ever set her blood on fire.
A RUNNER WITH A SCORE TO SETTLE…
Grant is charismatic, titled...and second-in-command of the Bow Street Runners. When his captain orders him to find and arrest the lad who has been stealing jewelry from the ton’s elite, he thinks it’s just another job. Until the lad turns out to be a five foot, four inch red-haired hellion with a penchant for knives…and the softest lips he’s ever kissed.
A DANGEROUS AFFAIR…
Juliet and Grant’s daring game of cat and mouse will take them from the glittering ballrooms of Grosvenor Square to the dangerous alleys of the East End as they try to outwit one another…and fight their growing passion. But when an enemy from Juliet’s past threatens her future, she has no other option except to trust the runner she has sworn to hate. Forced to choose between duty and desire, will Grant listen to his head…or risk everything to follow his heart?
Chapter One
St Giles Rookery was no place for a woman after dark. Or during the day for that matter, but Juliet had never let that stop her before and she had no intention of letting it stop her tonight.
She flitted through the darkness with the fluidity of a shadow, the worn leather soles of her boots scarcely touching the ground. The black cloak she had draped over her shoulders fluttered as she turned right and then left, nav
igating the twisted alleys with the ease and confidence of someone who had been born into them.
Jumping over a pool of foul smelling stagnant water and piss, she stopped in front of a narrow wooden door tucked away inside of an alcove. Raising her fist, she rapped her knuckles against the door three times. Waited for the length of a heartbeat. Knocked again. Creaking on its rusted hinges, the door swung open.
“Do ye have it?” The man who spoke was old and smelled of gin. Yet despite the map of wrinkles across his weathered face – or perhaps because of them – his watery blue gaze was cunningly sharp. “Do ye have the necklace?”
“Here.” She reached between her breasts and pulled out a small velvet reticule. But when the man made a quick grab for it she shook her head and took a step back, eyes narrowing to annoyed slits of green. “How long have we been doing business, Yeti? You know I require payment first.”
The old man growled under his breath, but after a moment’s pause he slapped a leather pouch into her extended palm. “There,” he said. “Now give me the bloody necklace.”
Juliet’s fingers tightened around the pouch as she tested its weight. One delicately arched brow lifted. “The rest, Yeti.”
He made a scoffing sound. “I don’t know what ye are–”
“The rest,” she said evenly.
“Ye drive a hard bargain, Jules.”
“A fair bargain,” she corrected as he dug into the pocket of his sagging trousers. “And more than you deserve for the shite you tried to pull last time. Did you think I wouldn’t realize those shillings were nothing more than painted copper? I should charge you twice as much for the trouble. It’s a good thing we’re friends, Yeti.”
The Spring Duchess (A Duchess for All Seasons Book 2) Page 10
