Page 10 of The Scarred Duke's Bride
Alexander's portrait had no answer for him and simply watched him with sympathetic familiar blue eyes. Eric straightened up, blew out his breath, and headed for the stairs. It was late, and he knew that his mother and his brother were fast asleep. He was glad of it—he did not think that he had the words to explain to them what happened that day.
Tomorrow at breakfast should be soon enough to share it all.
As he put his foot on the first step, he heard a shuffling sound coming from down the hall. He froze listening, and the shuffling turned into footsteps. Putting his foot back down, he peered into the dark. “Who is there?”
“Oh, Master Campbell, I did not hear you there.” Candlelight brightened the hallway to reveal his steward, Mr. Green.
Eric's shoulders relaxed, and he heaved a sigh of relief. “What are you doing skulking around in the dark?”
“I was just leaving, sir. Headed to my bed. There were just a couple of urgent invoices that needed to be seen to. I have left them on your desk for your signature.”
Eric nodded. “How urgent? Should I sign them now, or will morning suffice?”
“If you could sign them now, I could post them early in the morning.”
“Mm,” Eric said tiredly, “then I shall get to it at once.” In the few days he had been home, he had come to realize just how much work it took to run their business enterprises. The work never ended. “On second thought, I shall simply wake up early so as to get it done then.”
“Of course, Master Campbell. Whatever you feel is best.”
Eric nodded to him. “Goodnight, Mr. Green.”
“Goodnight, sir.” The steward walked towards the doorway. He and several other servants—including the cook, the head gardener, and the housekeeper— lived in the servants’ quarters at the back of the cottage. The other servants came in from Cheapside every day.
Eric climbed the stairs, feeling the effort that it took on every step. He was so glad to lie down on his bed at last, staring up listlessly at the ceiling, and just breathe. He felt as if he had not even been given the time to mourn his brother; every single thing that he had to do was too urgent.
He longed for just a moment’s peace to gather himself and just remember his brother fondly. Instead, tomorrow he would have to prepare for a wedding. He had told Freya that he would not rush her, but the truth was that he was in no hurry himself. He did not feel ready to be a husband.
He hardly felt ready to socialize with anyone aside from his brother and mother.
After his injury, he had immediately been redeployed, and having been occupied with the business of war, he had not really had time to come to terms with his injury. And now again, his life had changed drastically.
He just needed some time to breathe. Sitting up, he spotted the bottle of brandy that he had brought to his room last night. Pouring himself a generous portion, he swallowed it down before stripping naked and burrowing into his blankets.
A good night’s sleep, that’s all I need. It will all be better tomorrow.
ChapterSix
In spite of the very short notice, Eric's mother insisted on having an engagement dinner for the couple, or so Eric said when he called on Freya early the next morning. “I don’t know if my father will be able to attend in his fragile state," she said in a low worried tone.
“We will be happy to host you, your sister, and your chaperone. My mother will also be present to act as another chaperone. That is, if your father is in agreement.”
“Yes, yes, take them with you; I should like to have my house to myself for one day,” the Duke said, walking into the parlor with his cane, startling Freya quite badly. “Mrs. Beecham shall bring them.”
Eric got to his feet, making a leg, “As you say, Your Grace.”
The Duke grunted in acknowledgment before shuffling slowly around with his cane and walking out of the parlor. Freya watched him go, feeling quite annoyed with him for his continued rudeness to her in front of strangers.
She got up unthinkingly and marched out of the room as well, making her way to the garden. She dropped down on the grass with a sigh, uncaring that it was drizzling, and began to pull little tufts of grass in her annoyance.
“You mustn’t let him get to you so easily.”
She jumped, not having been aware that Eric had followed her.
“That is quite easy for you to say since you do not have to live with him.”
“That is true.” To her surprise, he dropped down by her side, folding his legs beneath himself and swaying back and forth. “I do not have to live with a father who has impossible expectations, but I have been in the Navy for nine years, and I understand what it means to be constantly barked at by superiors who are never satisfied with your performance.”
Freya considered him thoughtfully, trying to reconcile this understanding gentleman with the insufferable scapegrace she had encountered yesterday.
