Page 24 of The Duke's Ultimatum

Eleanor’s cheeks reddened as she took in his meaning. With a slight nod, she focused her attention on her fidgeting hands in her lap.

“Your Grace, I must apologize?—”

The Duke cut Charlotte’s words off with a raise of his hand. “There is no need, Charlotte,” he said with surprising gentleness. “Eleanor is right. This is a sensitive subject, and I’m glad to know she takes this matter seriously.”

Eleanor felt as if she were a child being scolded. Her pride was hurt, but she had already made a fool out of herself in front of the Duke twice now. Speaking out against his behavior towards her wouldn’t do herself any favors.

“That is all for tonight, ladies. I think we should all retire for the evening.”

Her mother and sisters stood while Eleanor sat still in her chair. Embarrassment coursed through her veins making her limbs heavy.

“Eleanor,” her mother reprimanded.

Ignoring the Duke’s gaze, she stood and followed her mother, acutely aware of the Duke ’s eyes watching her every movement.

Derek sat at his desk in his study. The fire dwindled to where just the red embers glowed. He sat back in his chair and ran his hand through his hair.

On his desk in front of him were countless papers of numbers, purchasing orders, and trade agreements. Yet the only thought to occupy his mind was the vision of green eyes looking at him with such vitriol.

He pushed away from his desk and stalked over to the bar cart to pour himself another drink. He stared into the dying embersof the dying fire. All he ever wanted to do was make a name for himself. He never wanted to be a duke; he never imagined he would be in this situation.Looking for husbands for three ladies of the illustrious ton, he sneered.

Derek took a swig of the whisky, relishing in the burn rushing down his throat.

What was it about that blasted woman that got under his skin? There were times she seemed nothing more than what she was bred for. Gentility and societal rank oozed out of her pores; however, there were times when she shirked those shackles and was defiant and challenging.

And curse his proclivities, but he rather liked her confrontational and stubborn.

Derek shook his head to clear away the thought. How many times would he need to remind himself that she was entrusted into his care?

He stormed over where his coat was hung and slung it over his shoulders. He felt too confined in this house. He needed to get out and stretch his legs, work off some of this pent-up energy.

He made his way out of the house and called out for the footman to bring the carriage around. If they moved fast enough, he’d be able to reach the theater right when the night’s performance was ending. Celeste was performing tonight, and he’d been promising her, he’d help her celebrate the success of her show. Lucky for her, he was excellent at celebrating victories.

He pulled his collar up to shield his neck from the cool summer breeze, causing him to shiver. Unbeknownst to him, the shivering wasn’t from the breeze but the pair of green eyes that watched his carriage as it pulled away.

CHAPTER 8

Eleanor couldn’t sleep. She tried counting sheep, singing songs, going over dance steps in her head, everything, but nothing allowed her to get the evening’s discussion out of her head. She had one month to find a husband, or else the horrible brute of a duke was going to send her off with the first eligible bachelor he saw.

She groaned into her pillow. This time last week she was enjoying the start of her season, curious about what prospects lay ahead, and now, she was dreading every event coming up. All because that stupid man decided it was time he grace them with his presence and dictate their lives to his whim.

Eleanor sat up, taking stock of the rumpled covers and tossed pillows. It looked like there was a fight in here.

With a sigh, she heaved her sleep-heavy legs over the side of the bed and stood up.Maybe some fresh air will help me sleep.

She threw on her robe and slippers and padded downstairs and into the garden. Through the veranda’s doors, she saw the moon was high and bright, perfectly illuminating the path in front of her.

With careful steps, she moved off of the veranda and into the garden below. She always loved the garden; it was so serene, and quiet. Every flower had its place, and every bush was cut just so that it fit the landscape perfectly. Just as it should be.

She made her way further down the path to one of her favorite benches. It was surrounded by tall hedges that made her feel like she was in the country, even though beyond their walls was a busy London street.

Pulling her robe closer to ward off the evening chill, she turned the corner and came to a complete halt.

There, on her bench, on herfavoritebench, was the bane of her existence. The reason why she couldn’t sleep, and why her whole life was flipped on its side, was making himself comfortable in her space of refuge.

She stood still for a moment hiding in the shadows of a nearby bush to take him in. He looked tired and frustrated. His shoulders were slumped as he held his head in his hands. Eleanor had a brief moment of worry. Normally, if she were to see someone in distress, she would tend to them.

Good. I’m glad he’s miserable. Serves him right.

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