Page 24 of Disguised Desires of a Scarred Duke
On another front, William and Edward’s efforts to rid Eleanor of Mr Phillip’s attention seemed to work well thus far. The scoundrel had gone quiet for a few days.
Miss Whitfield also said she hadn’t heard a single word from Lady Whitfield about the rainstorm incident. Perhaps Mr Phillips had kept the dousing at Kensington Park to himself.
Eliminating Mr Phillips from the picture meant William’s purpose for getting closer to Eleanor might be nearing its end. And a good thing, too, before his heart got involved or she discovered he was the new Duke of Ashbourn and not estate agent Anthony Black.
Yet the idea of never getting to hold her, caress her, and enjoy the secret delights beneath her dress was almost too much to bear.
No doubt about it. He’d let himself get too attached to Eleanor Whitfield.
My Elle.
The more he thought about it, the more William realized his moodiness could be easily explained. His wants and goals had begun battling for control inside his head. Desire for Eleanor was raging a war against his need to avoid a life in London society. Similarly, his body’s carnal cravings were jousting with the inner gentleman he was raised to be.
He’d even started enjoying having his feet firmly planted on dry land again, which was a sure sign of his coming demise.
Wasn’t it?
“What a fine day for an outdoor play! And an even finer one for gazing at our beautiful companions!” Edward juggled three shiny, red apples in the air as he walked across the grass. When he nearly fell over a giggling toddler waddling towards her mother, he let the apples fall and caught them against his chest.
“One for you, Miss Whitfield. And one for you, Miss Regina. Sorry, Your Grace. I don’t have anysourapples for you.”
William stopped cold in his tracks as Edward and the Whitfield sisters chuckled and kept walking ahead of him towards their chosen spot on the park lawn.
The duke’s heart pounded so loudly in his chest it threatened to burst.
Did Edward just call me Your Grace?
He waited a few seconds to see if anyone noticed. The sisters kept chatting, but it didn’t take long for Edward to stop abruptly and turn around. His eyes were as big as the round Prince of Wales biscuits inside the basket hanging from William’s hands.
“A joke, Mr Black. I was joking, of course! Are you in such a foul mood you can’t enjoy a silly jest?”
William and Edward shared a knowing look as the ladies seemed oblivious to the hint of the duke’s true identity Edward had uttered by mistake.
“I’m not in a foul mood, Montrose. It’s just hot and crowded out here, and you’ve clearly packed this basket full of the biggest boulders you could find.”
Edward’s face shifted from a look of fear to amusement as he took a bite of his apple. “Boulders and the finest sherry!”
The duke shook his head at his friend’s silliness. He was thankful for their quick and private recovery from Edward’s slip.
“Close your mouth when you chew, Montrose. There are ladies present. Seeing you masticate like a cow isn’t as desirable as you think.” The duke winked to signal that their worrisome few moments were over and all was well.
Edward laughed and turned back around to help the sisters secure their picnic spot near the back of the park.
Eleanor eased the basket from William’s arms and placed it on their blanket. Her pretty smile caused fluttering in his belly that he hoped wouldn’t spread with obvious effect to his groin.
Control yourself, St Clair!
“I think this was a splendid idea, Mr Montrose. Regina and I have wanted to see this play, but Lady Whitfield thought it wasn’t appropriate for impressionable young ladies.”
“Lady Whitfield isn’t privy to the details of this outing, I presume?” William asked, his voice lowered for discretion.
“You presume correctly, Mr Black. But we didn’t lie about it. Lady Whitfield is out for the day, and so are we.” Eleanor’s inviting lips spread into a playful smirk. “When asked of our whereabouts, we’ll tell the truth. We were at the park enjoying the sunshine. Though leaving without our maids again might bring on Margaret’s wrath, it’s worth the stern lecture for a slice of freedom today.”
Regina giggled. “Eleanor is going to be the death of me! But I very much wanted to accept your invitation to the play, Mr Montrose. Even if I’m not as familiar with Shakespeare as I should be.”
“A Midsummer Night’s Dreamisn’t everyone’s cup of tea. But it’s a fun frolic through fairyland, to be sure. I hope you’ll like it, Miss Regina.” Edward beamed at the younger Whitfield sister like she was a treasure to behold.
The duke looked away and sighed. He wished he could show his feelings as openly as his friend. Or feel comfortable showing his face at all.
