Page 7 of Her Duke to Beguile: Lady Be Wicked
After he was finished washing, he rose from the water and dried off. Bivens was there, ready to help him dress. He didn’t think much as he slid his clothes on and prepared for his day. Dressing was a normal, everyday occurrence, and it didn’t deserve any more attention than necessary.
“Where there be anything else, Your Grace?” Bivens asked.
He shook his head. “No. I suppose it is time to join the countess in greeting our guest.” Was it too much to hope they left sooner rather than later? He really hoped they didn’t intend to stay more than a few hours at most. His worst fear was that they would stay much longer than that. Like overnight…
George didn’t wait for his valet to respond. He hadn’t really been addressing him, anyway. It was more a rhetorical question that he already knew the answer to. He strolled out of his bedchamber and went to the drawing room. He wondered why his sister had gone there instead of her sitting room, but he didn’t stop to ponder it too much. His sister always had a reason for everything she did. That reason wasn’t always evident, but he supposed he might be able to discern the truth once he knew the guest’s identity.
He stepped toward the entrance of the drawing room and froze. The voices he heard from the other side of the door filled him with dread. His sister’s insistence made sense now. What had that infernal woman told her? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He should join them, but he couldn’t. Not yet, at least. He didn’t know what he should do, and he needed time to consider everything first. Lady Felicity Abbot had tried to force him to marry her. She’d set up a scene that would have accomplished that goal. If he had fallen into her trap, she might very well be his duchess now. Thankfully, Allister had rescued him from such a fate.
That didn’t mean she hadn’t devised a new scheme, and he had to squash it before it took root. There was only one true way for him to escape such a fate. He had to find a wife, and fast. One he chose. Not one that trapped him into such a union. Now he just had to find a woman he wanted to be his bride, and fast.
Eleanor sat in the garden and thought about the previous day. He’d kissed her. She doubted he would have if not for his inebriated state, but she couldn’t erase that moment from her mind. Nor did she want to. She might never experience anything as pleasurable as that kiss had been ever again. It was the single most satisfying moment of her life. Nothing would induce her to forget it. Nothing. She would relive that moment to her dying day.
She might never have him, or his love, but she had that kiss. He might not remember it, but that was all right. She could remember it for the both of them. After all, it wasn’t as if she had any suitors or a reason to let go of the dream of him.
Eleanor headed to a nearby bench. Her charge, the Earl of Craven, didn’t feel well and was in the nursery being taken care of by his nanny. He had a little cough, and the countess was concerned it might develop into something more serious. That development had given her the morning to herself. If the young earl was feeling better later, they would resume his lessons. For now, she was going to enjoy her morning. That meant a long stroll in the garden and perhaps a little daydreaming, too.
Footsteps from the opposite direction caught her attention. Someone else was in the garden. It was probably one of the gardeners. The countess had a guest, and she overheard one of the maids telling the duke’s valet that his presence was requested. That was too bad. She would have loved to see the duke again. In the garden. For another kiss…
There goes that fantasizing again…
She sighed. Eleanor would not be so lucky twice in as many days. She had to keep her reminding herself of one fact. The duke was not for her. He would never offer for her. He would never truly be hers.
A man rounded the corner and collided with Eleanor. She lost her balance and began to fall backwards. The gentleman pulled her forward, and she landed instead in his arms. It seemed as if she was going to repeat what had happened the day before. The difference, of course, was that this time she hadn’t fallen to the ground, and the duke was not inebriated.
“My apologies, Miss Jones.” The duke stared at her intently. “I should have been paying attention to where I walked. Are you all right?”
He didn’t seem any worse for the wear… Perhaps drinking too much brandy didn’t affect him as it did others. “Do not fret, Your Grace,” she told him. “No harm was done.” He’d given her permission to use his given name but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Especially since he still remained formal with her. Surely he didn’t recall granting her that privilege, and even if he had, perhaps he regretted it. She would not take advantage of his inebriated state and take liberties he normally would not have given her.
“I fear there is much I need to apologize for,” he told her, his tone grave. “The state I was in yesterday…” He cleared his throat. His golden eyes were filled with sincerity as he spoke. The duke felt guilty it seemed… “I must assure you I do not normally imbibe too much and take advantage of innocents. You may remain assured that I will not take liberties with your person again.”
Her heart sank. She’d been right about one thing. He did regret kissing her. What should she say? Should she brush it aside as nothing or be honest? What did she have to lose? Only everything… Eleanor took a deep breath and pushed her disappointment down. She pasted a smile on her face and met his gaze. “I never thought you were anything more than a gentleman, Your Grace. You needn’t concern yourself about my welfare. I’m all right with what happened between us.” She wouldn’t come out and tell him that his kiss had changed something inside of her, but she didn’t wish for him to think she regretted it either.
“You don’t think ill of me?” He lifted a brow. “I’m the worst sort of scoundrel for what I did.”
“Are you?” She tilted her head to the side. “That is not how I view you.”
He nodded a little absentmindedly. “You’re too kind to me, Miss Jones. I do not deserve your good charity.”
The duke might view himself unfavorably; however, she could not look at him as anything but a man with integrity. Other gentlemen might not even acknowledge her, let alone apologize for their actions. Instead of speaking about that kiss and his intentions any longer, she chose to broach another topic with him. “I’ve heard we have guests. Have they already departed?”
He scowled. “I don’t believe that anyone has left Cranbrook Castle. As much as I would like to ignore them, I should quit being a coward and go face them.”
“You do not care for Lady Craven’s guest?” Who had come to visit and why did he look at them disparagingly?
“Lady Felicity Abbot has arrived.” He had a sour expression on his face that almost made Eleanor giggle. He truly didn’t like them. “Lady Felicity fancies herself to be my future duchess. She is quite mistaken in that assumption.”
She already hated the woman just for that. Eleanor knew it was unreasonable, but that feeling wouldn’t go away. She already thought of George, the duke, as hers. Even though deep down she knew it could never be true. “I see,” she said quietly.
“Do you,” he said. “I don’t. I think she’s a loathsome woman.” The duke shuddered. “I don’t suppose you would marry me and save me from her nefarious intentions.” She stared at him, struck mute. Surely he hadn’t just asked her to be his wife. She had to have misheard. He blew out a breath. “I know it is too much to ask. Don’t answer me. I was foolish to even suggest it. I just know she’s here with some scheme and I wanted to avoid the scandal that would eventually arise from it.”
He wanted her to save him. How could she say no to that? Did he even understand what it would mean, though? “Your Grace,” she began. “Do you really wish me to marry you? Are you jesting?”
He stilled and met her gaze, then his lips tilted upward. That smile sent shivers down his spine. “You’re considering it?”
“I don’t know…” She stumbled over the words. “That’s not a light decision to make. Marriage is forever. Are you certain this is what you want?” She was a fool, but damn it, she would gladly tumble toward that recklessness if it meant he would be hers. Forever. “Why do you want to marry me?”
“Because you’re the only woman I want,” he told her. “And you’re also the one woman that isn’t throwing herself at me, demanding something from me. I think we would make a good match.” He frowned. “I’m bumbling this and never would have asked. At least not yet…” The duke sighed. “I had hoped we would have more time, but Lady Felicity’s arrival changes everything. Please say yes.”
