Undressed to Impress the Duke : A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

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Undressed to Impress the Duke : A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 11

by Scarlett Osborne


  “Not if they do not see us. Please, I need to speak with you, Eleanor. Nothing more. I promise.”

  She kept her gaze on the carpet between them. Finally, she nodded. Aaron felt nothing but relief.

  “I’ll meet you at the bench, where we spoke last.”

  Eleanor curtsied gracefully, despite carrying the large laundry-filled basket, then moved past him. Aaron had no idea what he was going to say to her. Only that he would have this stolen moment with her.

  I worry that it’s all we’ll ever have.

  Eleanor’s heart was racing as she walked out of the house. She ran into the as-yet unnamed male servant. He looked at her sharply.

  “Where are you going?” he demanded.

  “For a walk.” Eleanor felt as though she were speaking to the Duke—this man felt as though he ran the place. Odd, for a servant.

  “Don’t you have things to do?” he asked. “I always see you, loafing about the stables. If you love them so much, then why don’t you apply to be a groom?”

  “It’s none of your concern,” she snapped, then walked around him. She could feel his eyes on her back. She didn’t like how he watched her. He seemed to know that she was sneaking out with His Grace.

  When she arrived at the bench, he was already there. He smiled as she sat down. They sat in silence, their eyes on the lake. Despite everything, the sun was shining down, and she did enjoy sitting there with him. She waited, though she burned with curiosity.

  “What did you want to tell me?” she asked, unable to bear it any longer.

  “I…” he stopped laughing, “I just wanted to see you.”

  “Your Grace—” she began.

  “I feel drawn to you in a way that I haven’t felt drawn to any other in all my life.”

  “You know this is impossible. You are a Duke, and I am a lady’s maid. Society would forbid it.”

  “Yes, I know.” He ran his fingers through his hair. Eleanor felt torn. She knew what her heart was telling her. “I would give anything to change it,” he whispered.

  “So would I,” she replied, recalling the way that he had kissed her. There had been real passion in it. She could barely stand it.

  “Then let us do it,” he said. “Let us change it.”

  “How?”

  “I’m sure we can come up with something.”

  Eleanor could tell that he meant it. She wanted to believe it, too. He took her hand, pressing it in his own.

  “Please. Give me a chance, at the very least.”

  Aaron had never wanted anything like this before. He was pleased when she nodded her head, turning toward him. “Very well, Your Grace.”

  “Call me Aaron.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s my name, Eleanor.”

  “Aaron,” she said, clearly taking pleasure in it. Her cheeks turned pink, and the corners of her lips turned upwards.

  He reached out, his heart thundering in his chest. He ran a finger, along the inside of her wrist, listening as her breath hitched. When he looked into her eyes, they were soft. He felt like he’d been struck by lightning.

  “How do you do this to me?” he whispered.

  “Do what?”

  “I feel like I’ve been brought to my knees.”

  “I don’t know. Otherwise, I wouldn’t do it.”

  “No?” He raised his eyebrow.

  “No. This is complicated.”

  “More than you would have it?”

  “Indeed.” Her eyes were on their hands, now clasped on the bench. He marveled at her fingers, which were long and tapered. She had a row of callouses, over the bridge of her palm. Aaron was so used to lady’s hands, which were soft from nonuse.

  “I would have you be happy, Eleanor,” he murmured.

  She sighed, but she did not tell him to leave her alone. It gave him hope. Aaron had never felt this way before. She smiled ruefully. “This too, shall pass, Aaron.”

  I don’t want it to.

  He couldn’t say it aloud. She had hinted before, the other day, that he owned all around them. It was his to order about. But Eleanor was not his to direct. Nor would he.

  “I would not trade this stolen moment with you for all of the gold in the world,” he told her.

  “That’s a very fine thing to say,” she said. “But you know that it will end.”

  “Then I will enjoy it while it lasts.” He continued to hold her hand in his. She did not pull away, but remained there, beside him.

  Chapter 13

  Eleanor had returned to Myrtlegrove Manor only a short while before Lady Julia did. Her mistress entered her bed chamber, a glowing portrait. She pulled off her bonnet, handing it to Eleanor.

  “How was your tea?” Eleanor asked. She felt like she’d betrayed her mistress. She hoped that she was hiding it. Aaron would come to his senses, and then never ask it of her again. She would hurt, but it would all be over, and she wouldn’t have to worry about the unpleasant servant, trying to tell the Dowager Duchess of Eleanor’s movements.

  “It was lovely,” Lady Julia said. “Edgeriver Hall is a very fine house. The Duchess was so very kind.”

  “What would you like to wear for this evening?”

  Lady Julia paused, turning back toward her. Her brow was furrowed. “Eleanor, are you well?”

  In that moment, Eleanor wished that she hadn’t gone to meet Aaron. She wished that none of the conversation had happened. She felt, immensely, the weight of her betrayal.

  The next time that he asks, I won’t go.

  But she couldn’t do that, could she? She just kept thinking of the way that he had caressed her wrist with his finger, how that one movement could elicit such feelings from her as she had never felt before!

  “Eleanor?” Lady Julia asked, and Eleanor was jolted from her thoughts. She realized that she had not answered Lady Julia.

  “Yes, My Lady. I am well—just tired.”

  “Good. Perhaps, you should stay up here for the evening,” she suggested. “Read your book.”

  She exhaled in relief. That was exactly what she needed. “Thank you, My Lady. Lady Whitecier won’t mind?” She had, after all, not been there to do her job as chaperone for several nights in a row.

  “Not at all, Eleanor. You do so much already. Come, I must dress for dinner. Is my champagne silk ready?”

  “Yes,” Eleanor replied, relieved that she had at the very least gotten it ironed properly. Silk wrinkled so very easily. She unbuttoned Lady Julia’s muslin, then helped her to put on the silk dress.

  “Do you need any of your curls redone?” Eleanor asked, realizing belatedly that she had not set the curling iron in the fire.

  “Goodness,” Lady Julia said. “It’s far too hot to have a fire.”

  Eleanor nodded.

  “You go and get your supper, and then rest. You do look very pale,” Lady Julia said.

  “It’s probably the heat.”

  “Indeed.” Lady Julia smiled, picking up her fan, then left the room. Eleanor breathed out a sigh of relief. There was a knock at the door. Eleanor’s heart knocked about in her chest. When she opened it, there stood a valet, and he held out a folded letter.

  “Thank you,” she said, presuming that it was for her mistress. He nodded, then turned and walked down the hall. She looked at it, horrified to see her own name scrawled across it.

  She went into her room, closing the door after her before unfolding it. Eleanor had never had a letter before. It was on fine, thick paper. The writing was incredibly ornate. There was a map drawn on it.

  I cannot bear to wait to see you. Please, meet me in the bell tower, after midnight.

  A.

  Eleanor pictured the tower, which was high up in the house. There was probably a sweeping view, of the entire surroundings. Her pulse raced at the thought of seeing him, late at night.

  I can’t go.

  The realization hit her with the force of a door slamming shut. Eleanor couldn’t be caught, wandering the halls after
midnight, and she certainly could not be found alone with the Duke of Durnsott. Her reputation would be ruined, and she would lose her job, and her friendship with Lady Julia.

  She opened her book, slipping the letter inside, where it would be safe. No one ever picked it up, or looked at it. She would keep it, in remembrance of what had almost been. And how far she might have fallen.

  She reminded herself that it was for the best.

  Aaron had sent word to Eleanor. He couldn’t wait until all this ceremony was over. Dinner was slow, as always, the conversation tedious. He found no delight in it. His step-mother dominated the room, her laughter ringing in the vast space. Jack and Lady Whitecier were involved in the talk, though Aaron barely knew what they said.

  All he wanted was to speak to Eleanor. She was the most real person he had ever met. There was no ceremony with her. No dissembling. He didn’t have to be the Duke of Durnsott with her. He was only himself.

  After dinner, the company retired to the parlor, where they all sat, listening while Lady Julia was at the pianoforte, playing a sonata. Her back was perfectly straight. She was dressed in a champagne-colored silk. She was a pretty picture.

  I’m going to have to make a decision soon.

  He had hoped that Eleanor would be there that evening, sitting in the corner, waiting to chaperone himself and Lady Julia. But she was not. He worried that she was unwell. After all that had passed, he had no idea why she would not be there. He missed sneaking looks at her, trying to discern what she was thinking and feeling.

  Lady Julia finished playing. Everyone clapped. She curtsied. As she rose, her eyes cut over to Aaron. He smiled at her.

  There would never be anything more than polite regard between us. And then, Eleanor would always be there. He couldn’t imagine the situation that would make. I should send Lady Whitecier and Lady Julia home.

  He wouldn’t, though. He wanted Eleanor there for as long as he could have her. Without actually having her. His mind went to trailing his finger over the inside of her wrist. The soft inhale of breath that she made.

  “Well,” the Dowager Duchess said, “this has been a very fine evening. Alas, I find myself very tired.”

  “Then we shall all retire,” Aaron agreed. He was ready to go to the tower, to await Eleanor’s arrival. The party broke up, everyone making their way to their rooms. Aaron stopped by the sideboard, to pour himself a brandy to take with him, while he waited.

  Then, he climbed up to the tower, where there was a small room that few knew about. He had drawn Eleanor a map, so she would be able to find it. He wished that he had thought about it, earlier. He watched the moon from the window, as it progressed. It was a thin slice, spearing the dark blue bruise of the sky. He looked at the stars, marveling at all of them. He knew few constellations.

  The bell was rung on the stroke of midnight. Aaron frowned. Surely, Lady Julia would have been in bed long before now.

  Where could Eleanor be?

  He waited another quarter of an hour, watching the moon as it progressed through the sky. He decided to go and see if she was wandering the halls. Aaron moved silently through the house. He did not see Eleanor. Not a single person stirred, but himself.

  She didn’t come. She didn’t come at all.

  Aaron was shocked at the revelation. Devastated. He had wanted her to come to him, and she had chosen not to. He went to his bed chamber, where his valet was dozing in a chair. He jumped up when Aaron entered.

  “When you gave her the note,” he said. “Did she say anything?” He trusted his valet. Ponsby was a good man, through and through.

  “No, Your Grace,” he replied. “She accepted the note, and then went back inside the room.”

  Aaron nodded, then waited while the valet began to untie his cravat. He didn’t know what to think. He was disappointed. Exhaustion made his limbs heavy.

  Perhaps, I was wrong. Or maybe something prevented her.

  Eleanor lay in her bed, tears slipping down her cheeks. She knew that he was waiting for her, wondering where she was. There was nothing that she could do about it. There had been no way for her to respond to his letter, to tell him that she couldn’t come. A thin sliver of moonlight was shining through the curtains.

  She turned over, sobbing into her pillow. It was all too much. She daren’t make a noise, or Lady Julia would certainly come in and check on her.

  Why did I have to be born who I am? What cruel god made it so I, a lowly maid, fall in love with a gentleman? A Duke, no less?

  Propriety would always keep them apart. There was nothing that could be done. She would have to face him. That was the worst part. On the morrow, she would have to see him, and pretend that nothing had happened.

  Chapter 14

  After breakfast, the gentlemen decided to go out fishing at the lake. Aaron, Arthur and Jack set out, walking. They were accompanied by several footmen, who carried all of their necessities.

  Jack was walking a little way ahead of Arthur and Aaron. Jack’s hunting dog, Boudica, was running ahead, and Jack was throwing a stick for her to fetch. When it seemed that Jack had gotten just out of earshot, Arthur began to speak.

  “So,” Arthur asked in a low voice. “Did she show up?”

  “No.”

  “No? Did she send a note back?”

  “I think she couldn’t come. It’s my own fault. How could she?”

  “This is true,” Arthur agreed. “What are you planning to do?”

  Aaron gave an abrupt shake of his head, glancing over at Jack, who had turned back. His younger brother cocked his head to the side curiously.

  “I say, what are the two of you whispering about?” Jack asked.

  “I lost my pocket watch,” Aaron replied smoothly. “Have you seen it?”

  “No. That’s a shame,” he said. “Father’s special watch lost. You should have a stern talk with your valet.”

  “Indeed,” Aaron agreed, relieved that he had left it back in his room, and there was no telltale golden chain hanging from his pocket.

  Aaron and Arthur shared a look. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Jack. It was that Jack and Louisa shared everything. He couldn’t keep a secret from her to save his own life.

  “You know,” Arthur said. “It might be worthwhile to tell him.”

  “No. Not yet.”

  “We need all the help we can get if we’re to—”

  “I’ll consider it,” Aaron said, gently. “But I don’t know, Arthur.”

  “As you wish.”

  They had arrived at the lake. Aaron himself had recently had it restocked with trout from the local river. He was quite ready for a good morning fishing. Then, luncheon, and Lady Julia and Eleanor were going to accompany the gentlemen on a strawberry-picking expedition.

  The day promised to be good. Especially if he found a few moments to speak with Eleanor. The footman handed him his fishing pole, already baited.

  “Thank you.” Aaron cast off, staring into the water, which gleamed in the sun light. It was a fine day, and he wondered what Eleanor was doing at that moment. What she was thinking? He hated how sad she had seemed lately. But how could the way that he felt be so bad? Surely, there was something they could do.

  But what? He was nowhere near giving up hope, or even giving up on her. He would need to figure it out soon. He needed to see her, speak to her. Luckily, he had Arthur’s help. He would never have been able to do it otherwise.

  “What’s on the agenda for this afternoon?” Jack asked, stirring Aaron from his thoughts.

  “Strawberry picking.”

  “How quaint of us!”

  “Indeed. We need to show Lady Julia all of the best points of the estate. How could she not be enamored of fresh strawberries?” he asked wryly.

  “How do you feel about her?” Jack asked.

  “I’ve only just met her.” He felt irritated. Why focus so much on forcing the issue?

  “That’s very forbidding.” Jack wasn’t smiling, and Aaron wondered what was on
his brother’s mind.

  “No, I just—need to get to know her,” Aaron insisted half-heartedly. The truth was, he wanted to continue to get to know Eleanor. He couldn’t just let her go.

  “She’s only here for a few weeks,” Jack pointed out. “How much time do you need?”

 

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