Page 15 of My Dangerous Duke

He gave a stiff nod in Eleanor’s direction, not meeting her eyes, and without another word, left the room.

Chapter 7

“There, now,” Mrs. Gaines cooed, placing a kind hand on each of Eleanor’s shoulders. “No need to cry, Your Grace. Your homesickness will fade in time.”

It was not homesickness that had forced the few tears rolling down Eleanor’s cheeks to come forth, nor was it sadness. It was rage. Xander Larsen was without a doubt the most confusing,infuriatingman she had ever encountered, she now loathed her father for yoking her to him more than ever.

Not trusting her tone or her words, Eleanor cleared her throat and wiped her tears away, then forced herself to smile at the well-meaning housekeeper.

“I am sure you are right,” she said at last, “There is just so much emotion on one’s wedding day.”

The elderly woman smiled brightly at her as she began to nod furiously. She was a short, lithe woman, perhaps sixty or so, with mouse grey hair and pale brown eyes who exuded a grandmotherly air. Even in the brief moment she witnessed between Mrs. Gaines and Xander, she could tell that even her beast of a husband had a soft spot for the woman.

“I know exactly what you mean, Your Grace,” Mrs. Gaines sighed wistfully. She took Eleanor by the hand and began to lead her to the nearby door, opening it to reveal the large bedroom beyond.

“My nerves were a tangled mess on my wedding day.”

“They were?” Eleanor asked. Though she did not know why, she felt comforted by this tidbit of information.

“Oh my, yes,” Mrs. Gaines laughed, “I think every bride is.” Continuing her tour as they chatted like old friends, the housekeeper walked Eleanor through the vast closet and then to the bathing suite; which made her eyes bulge.

Langley Manor was no small home and the amenities within it had been beyond suitable, but the luxury of the bathing room that lay in front of her was much more regal than she was used to. Unlike her copper tub at home which sat on the floor upon clawed legs, this tub, which was easily thrice the size of her old one, was made of something pearly white and embedded into the white and gray marble floor.

“Did His Grace not tell you what Langley is most known for?” Mrs. Gaines chuckled, clearly seeing the surprise on Eleanor’s face.

“No,” Eleanor muttered, stepping further into the Grecian-decorated room, “He did not.”

“That is just like him, it is,” Mrs. Gaines laughed affectionately, “So modest. We are known for our purifying hot springs, Your Grace, and the Estate has an underground spring running right below it. We pull it straight in with pipes.”

Eleanor was fascinated by this, but her curiosity did not overshadow her further annoyance with her new husband. Like her father, he had told her nothing. He had bickered with her, taunted her.

But that was not what had her body so intensely vibrating with feeling. His kiss, his touch, had made her body turn against her. She had melted like warm honey in his hands, and despite how furious she was at him, she wanted to do it again.

Not allowing herself to get sidetracked by the thought of Xander’s annoyingly pleasurable touch or the luxury of her new home, Eleanor turned away from the bath and went back to her bedroom. It was only then that she noticed how it was decorated. The large, wrought-iron four-post bed had delicate metal vines and flowers that adorned its pillars. Above it hung translucent dark blue curtains, elegantly sashed at the ends of each corner of the bed.

It was a room far more elegant than what she was used to, and as she took it all in, she shifted uncomfortably on her feet, and then she froze. She had been so consumed with being forced to be married that the reality of her new title only now sunk in. She was aDuchess. A leader of people, of a house. A woman of status and finery.

She was still feeling the effects of Xander’s kiss all throughout her body, and she had no idea what to do with herself. Just yet one more reason was she was beginning to hate him.

“I can tell you are overwhelmed,” Mrs. Gaines stated diplomatically. “Come, why do you not sit down, and I will ring you some tea.”

Eleanor still wanted to be defiant, but she recognized that her fight was not with this sweet woman. As she took a seat, Mrs. Gaines smiled toward her proudly, then pulled a golden rope that hung beside the fireplace. When she was done, she came back to Eleanor, kneeled at her feet, and began removing her shoes.

“It is a lot to take in,” Mrs. Gaines stated, her hands working quickly and gently. “This Manor and all. Many a new servant is frightened of its size at first. I suspect it is the same for you. Has the Master given you a tour?”

Mrs. Gaines looked up at her and Eleanor shook her head.

“That boy,” the housekeeper sighed, shaking her head in dismay as she returned to remove Eleanor’s shoes and stockings. “I shallbe happy to give you a full tour on the morrow after you are well rested.”

Eleanor murmured her thanks, then in a louder voice asked if she could inquire on Mrs. Gaines.

“Of course, Your Grace,” Mrs. Gaines chuckled, “You needn’t ask permission. What can I tell you?”

“Despite your nerves,” Eleanor mused aloud, allowing her thoughts back on what Mrs. Gaines had said earlier, “Did you enjoy your wedding day?”

“Oh my, yes,” Mrs. Gaines chuckled softly, making swift work of her weathered hands then began to work on soothing circles over the bottom of Eleanor’s left foot, and she immediately felt some of her anger let go. “It was not as beautiful as yours, mind you, but it certainly made me feel like a princess on that day.”

“I am sure it did,” Eleanor agreed, smiling softly. At least there was one thing they had in common. They had both loved their dresses.

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