Page 70 of The Duke's Ultimatum

Eleanor shifted in her seat.

“That is… unless you have someone else in mind?” Eleanor’s eyes lifted and met his.

Her eyes sparkled, and he couldn’t help but notice the look of hope in them. Did she not wish to marry the Viscount? Was there someone else she was interested in? Was it he?

Derek cursed under his breath. How many times must he remind himself that she is not for him.

Derek forced his head to move from side to side. “No. I think the Viscount is an excellent match for you.”

The words tasted like ash on his tongue, but it was the right thing to say.

Did Eleanor’s shoulders just drop?

She licked her lips, suddenly sitting taller. Nervous energy expounded from her small frame. “Well, that’s that, then.” She popped up out of her chair, almost knocking it backwards.

“Oh, sorry. I’m not sure what has gotten into me. I guess I’m just excited over your approval of Simon.”

Derek clenched his jaw at the sound of Simon’s name.

“Splendid,” he ground out.

Eleanor smoothed down her skirts. “Well, that’s all I needed to talk to you about. I’ll leave you to your work.”

He stood to walk her out. He walked her to the door when she abruptly turned and bumped right into his chest.

Both inhaled sharply. Her eyes trailed up his chest and landed on his. “Thank you, again, Your Grace, for stopping my sister. Truly. I am forever indebted to you for your actions.”

They both stood there, lost in each other’s gazes until she finally blinked and turned.

The door clicked shut, leaving Derek standing there, cursing his luck.

“Where was I? Oh, I find it particularly uncouth for such manners to be allowed during a performance.” Simon’s words carried over the cacophony of the opera’s lobby.

Eleanor scrunched her face. “I don’t think it’s that they are allowing for it happen. The poor man had a coughing fit; he couldn’t stay there and cough throughout the whole performance.”

Simon picked off a speck of lint from his jacket. “If the man was ill, then he shouldn’t have come in the first place.”

Eleanor took in a breath and blew it out. Pointing out that the man most likely wasn’t sick and just had a tickle in his throat would be moot. She learned quickly that if Simon had an opinion on how things should go, and if they didn’t go by the book, then they were wrong. It was something she used to respect, his need to follow the rules, but lately, his lectures were growing tiresome.

“Other than the interruption, how are you enjoying the performance?” Eleanor had become quite good at getting Simon to relax into more pleasant topics when he seemed to be particularly rigid.

Simon exhaled heavily. “I do wish Madame Cora was performing tonight. Did I mention I saw her when she first debuted?”

Eleanor bit her lip and nodded. “Many times,” she said under her breath.

Simon leaned in. “What was that? It’s so loud in this lobby; it’s as if the majority of the people haven’t been to an opera before.”

Eleanor just smiled.

“Speaking of such people, where is the newly appointed Duke? Out doing backroom deals, no doubt.”

Eleanor’s back stiffened. She could take a lot of Simon’s opinions, but she drew the line when they called into question anyone she cared about. And not only was the Duke technically related to her, but she had come to care for him.

“He is escorting my sister and mother to the Wilkens’ residence this evening.”

Simon’s eyes shone with interest. “Is it true that your sister and the Wilkens boy tried running away together, but the brute of a man threw her over his shoulder and locked her in her room?”

Eleanor gasped. “No such thing happened. Where did you hear that?”

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