“So?” Lord Whitecier asked.
Aaron smiled at him. “Yes, My Lord?”
“Would you like to ask me for my permission, Your Grace?” He smiled at Aaron.
“Lady Julia and I have agreed that we would both like to wait to discuss the engagement until after the ball,” he said. The smile fell from Lord Whitecier’s face.
“Wait, Your Grace? What for?” When Aaron hesitated, Lord Whitecier went on. “My daughter is an accomplished young lady, Your Grace. She would make you an excellent, demure wife.”
“She’s a wonderful lady,” he replied. “I do not mean anything by it.”
“Then what?” Lord Whitecier frowned.
“Let us enjoy the ball,” he said. “If my leg were feeling stronger, I would certainly allow for it. As it is, I won’t even be able to dance. I wouldn’t want to ruin the evening for her. I would, truly, like to be able to dance at my own engagement party.” He gestured toward his leg. “As it is, I will be sitting and watching most of the festivities.” He did not want to put this on Lady Julia.
He wanted for Lord Whitecier to be on his way back home when he found out that Aaron did not plan to wed his daughter. Aaron had only the weekend to make it through.
From Lady Julia’s insistence on not announcing the engagement, he had the inkling that she did not want the engagement, either.
“As you wish, Your Grace,” Lord Whitecier said, smiling hesitantly. Though, he seemed doubtful. He cleared his throat. “I would like to tell you more about this new bill that I’d like to introduce in Parliament.”
“What about?” Aaron asked.
“It would put tariffs on imported food and grain,” he replied. “It is a problem which I am sure concerns a gentleman such as yourself.”
“I wish you’d told me of it before,” he murmured.
“Didn’t the Dowager Duchess tell you? We have spoken of it at length the last time she was in London.”
Almost six months ago! She never mentioned it once.
“No, she never mentioned it. To my knowledge, she has never had any interest in Parliament at all.”
“Well, let me tell you about it now,” the Earl said, settling back in his chair.
Aaron smiled politely, sitting back in his chair and sipping his drink. While Lord Whitecier went on about adding income to the British government, Aaron wondered what else Louisa had neglected to tell him. And what other far-reaching consequences those little pieces of information had.
Eleanor was walking out to the stables to visit the foals. Now that Lord Whitecier had arrived, Lady Julia was in the parlor. The whole company was there, and would be for a while yet. It seemed like an age since Eleanor had had a moment to go down to the stables.
Martin waved to her from the corral. He was in the middle of exercising one of the large thoroughbred hunters on a lead line. The sleek dark-chestnut horse tossed his head, cantering about the ring smoothly.
Eleanor walked slowly down the wooden walkway that ran in between the stalls. Despite the summer heat, it was cool and dark inside the stables. She would stop to give treats to each horse. In the few weeks that she had been at Myrtlegrove Manor, she had befriended almost all of the horses there.
She had paused outside of Lugh’s stall. The white horse was healing slowly, but making progress every day. His eyes were so dark they were almost black. He eagerly moved toward Eleanor, nuzzling her hand with his soft grey nose. Eleanor was offering him a lump of sugar when Mr. Bradshaw found her there.
“Eleanor?” he called out softly. She glanced over at him, sighing. She turned her attention back to the horse, who was nuzzling her now-empty palm for more sugar.
Eleanor didn’t know what else Mr. Bradshaw could possibly want from her. She certainly didn’t trust him. Exhaustion washed over her.
“What is it now, Mr. Bradshaw?” she asked, giving the horse a good scratch on his white nose. “I have nothing left to give you.”
“Here, take it back,” he urged her. When she glanced over at him sharply, he held out a handkerchief. She accepted it, finding her locket nestled inside. She stared at the familiar gold heart, with the rose etched into it, a pearl affixed to the center. She stared at him in surprise.
“I’m giving it back,” he explained, his eyes on hers. He was telling the truth.
“Why?” Eleanor could hardly believe it. This seemed too good to be true. She wondered if he was trying to manipulate her, to get some sort of information about Aaron.
“Because I don’t like the person that I’ve become. I’ve trusted the wrong people, and now, well, now I’m going to leave. Before I end up like Ponsby, hiding in some croft somewhere.”
She could hardly believe her ears. “Hiding? From whom?”
“I…I shouldn’t say,” he replied. “Suffice it to say, I’m sorry. I can only hope that one day, I shall be forgiven. I’m sure that you want it…for, well, for the ball.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, unsure of what to say otherwise.
“Who gave it to you?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t suppose that I ever will.” Despite his current act of kindness, Eleanor was hesitant to tell him anything more. She couldn’t quite believe in his sudden reform.
“Some things are meant to be mysteries I guess,” he said, shrugging. “Well, goodbye Eleanor. Good luck.”
She watched him leave. He walked quickly, looking from side to side. He seems frightened, she thought. She wondered who he was running from. And why.
Aaron found Louisa in her private sitting room. She was with her seamstress, who had brought her ball gown. The gown itself was on a dressmaking dummy. Louisa was walking in circles around it, looking at it with an artist’s eye.
“What do you think?” she asked him, a slight frown furrowing her brow.
Aaron looked at it. The gown was made of bright peacock-blue silk. It had an empire waist, and voluminous skirts. There was delicate lace at the hemline, and along the décolletage. At the waist, there was a yellow ribbon. It was a grand confection of a dress, one which called for attention.
“You will certainly make an entrance,” he mused, considering the darker-blue embroidery emblazoned across it, in the shapes of roses and vines.
“That’s the point,” Louisa replied. She was looking at a fan made of ostrich feathers. It had yellow ribbon, to go around her wrist.
“Lord Whitecier just told me all about the new bill he wishes to have introduced during the next session of the House of Lords,” Aaron said.
“What of it?” she asked, setting the fan aside. She blinked at him in surprise.
“He says that the two of you have discussed it already—last winter in London.” He wanted to know if Louisa had arranged all of this—the visit, the match, the ball—just so she could arrange a political alliance with Lord Whitecier.
“You know that I have little interest in politics,” she replied.
“Yet you discussed this bill?” He was merely trying to figure out what precisely was going on. His head swam. There were so many pieces—attempted murder, theft, Ponsby who was in hiding, and now parliamentary measures on taxation.
“Part of being a lady is listening to gentlemen while they talk about things which matter to them,” Louisa replied. “Lord Whitecier told me much about it. I saw an opportunity for you to marry well—and that’s all.”
Aaron sighed. He believed her, he realized with relief. He was frightened, after all. Not knowing who was after him, he was inclined to find intrigue where perhaps there was none.
“You realize that all a lady has to keep her occupied is ensuring that her children are wed,” Louisa said, picking up her fan again.
He stared at her in shock. She had never referred to Aaron as her child before. When she had married his father, she had never treated him as a son, so much as another adult in the house.
“You were always too old for me to coddle,” she murmured, waving her ostrich feather fan at her face. “Always so indepe
ndent. The least I can do for you is to ensure that you are married to a fine young lady. The title of Duchess of Durnsott is not one that I took on lightly.”
“I know.” Aaron smiled. He felt wrung out.
“I want the lady who follows in my footsteps to do the title justice,” Louisa went on, turning and walking to the window. She looked out, over the estate.
Aaron swallowed. He planned for her to be Eleanor, who would need Louisa’s guidance. He wished that things had been different, that he had been born second, and that Jack could have been the elder brother.
His heart belonged to Eleanor.
When he looked at Louisa, she had turned away from the window and was watching him closely. “What’s happening with you, of late?” she asked. “You seem so…brooding.”
“Well, I was the victim of attempted murder,” he replied.
“Who would want to harm you?” she asked, shaking her head. “I just don’t understand it.”
“Nor do I,” he replied.
“Mr. Brownleaf ought to be doing his job,” she said, sweeping across the room. “We can’t have a murderer running loose in Durnsott County. It’s completely unheard of!”
Aaron could only sigh and nod. It was rare for anything to happen in the area around Myrtlegrove Manor. Aaron had no clue who he had wronged enough for them to want him dead. It made him uneasy. With his injured leg, he was an easy target.
What happens if they decide to come and finish the job? he wondered.
Chapter 32
Eleanor was helping Lady Julia dress for the ball. She was already wearing her sage-green muslin. She had dressed her own hair simply—parting it in the middle, then rolling it into a high bun. Her locket was at her neck, its familiar presence comforting.
Lady Julia, meanwhile, was dressed extravagantly in champagne silk, with long black silk gloves that went up to her elbows. The dress had French lace at the hems and a black ribbon at the waist. Eleanor had just finished arranging her hair, piling it on top of her head, with neat curls framing her cheeks. She had added a few white roses at the bottom of Lady Julia’s hair.
“You look lovely, My Lady,” Eleanor said, standing back to check her work. Julia spun, admiring the way that the silk swished around her legs.
“Thank you, Eleanor,” Lady Julia replied. As with any ball, there was an undercurrent of excitement. Eleanor always liked to see how all of the fine ladies were dressed, but tonight felt particularly important.
Though Eleanor wouldn’t stand out much, it would be the first time that Aaron would see her in something other than her uniform. She knew that the green was becoming on her—it brought out her eyes.
There was a knock at the door. Eleanor opened it to find the Dowager Duchess standing there. She had a black-velvet jewelry box in her hands. She passed Eleanor by, as if she didn’t exist, in a cloud of blue silk and ostrich feathers.
“Oh, Lady Julia,” she gasped, passing Eleanor by. “You look like a dream.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
“I have brought the diamond necklace,” she said, opening the box, to reveal the necklace. “I know that it’s customary for this to transfer family heirlooms between us on your wedding day, but I feel like you should be wearing it this evening. It is as though you are already becoming the Duchess of Durnsott.”
“It’s so kind of you,” Julia said.
“You’ve earned it,” the Dowager Duchess said. “This ball will be the talk of the ton for years to come, and it is all your own doing.”
“That’s kind of you to say, Your Grace.” Lady Julia’s eyes slid to the ground. Eleanor felt badly for her. She so wanted to be with the Dowager Duchess’ son.
“Here. Let me help you put it on,” the Dowager Duchess urged. Lady Julia turned around, to allow her to put the necklace on.
Eleanor swallowed as she watched the tender moment between the two ladies. That was when it hit her…what had she been thinking? She had trespassed where she shouldn’t have. She had wrongly fallen in love with the Duke. Eleanor was nothing but an interloper.
Romance stories were wrong. She had been wrong, she thought as they both stood side by side in the mirror. The two ladies looked so beautiful, dressed in their fine silks, their necks glittering with diamonds, while Eleanor stood by the door, invisible, even in her finest dress.
Lady Julia and Eleanor both moved through the growing crowd in the ballroom. Julia let her eyes travel the room, which had been utterly transformed. Flowers hung from the ceiling in large bundles. There were streamers in between. The candles had been situated in such a way as to make the illusion feel like a fairyland.
Julia fanned herself. The Dowager Duchess’ diamond necklace hung heavily around her neck. She could almost feel the candlelight as it caught the diamonds, almost making Julia herself light up.
“So, Eleanor,” Julia murmured. “What do you think?” She was nervous as anything. Tonight, she would ask the gentleman that she was falling in love with to ask her father for her hand. It was a desperate bid, but Julia believed that Jack was worth it.
“It’s very grand, My Lady,” Eleanor said, her eyes on the room.
“Indeed,” Julia agreed. She saw her parents, at the other end of the room. Ladies dressed in lush silks of many colors, gemstones glittering. Gentlemen in dark jackets, breeches and snow-white cravats. Their black boots shone. The footmen, dressed in livery, wove through the crowd, carrying glasses of champagne on trays as easily as if they defied gravity.
Through the crowd, she spotted Jack. As their eyes met, his lips curved upwards. She felt as though he were the sun, and she were the moon, both of them existing in the same orbit. He looked very debonair in a hunter-green jacket, his hair combed neatly. He looked at her as though she were the only lady in the room.
They moved toward each other, the crowd parting as if by magic. His eyes never left her. He held out his hand, as she placed hers in it. He bowed low as she curtsied.
“You look like a picture,” he murmured, taking in the sight of her. “I don’t recall ever seeing my Mother without that necklace. It suits you, My Lady.”
“It’s heavy,” she said, her heart pounding in her breast nervously.
“It becomes you,” he replied, smiling. The musicians began to tune up their instruments, and the dance master took his place at the head of the room. Anticipation coursed through Julia, settling like butterflies and Christmas morning in her stomach. “Will you dance this first set with me, My Lady?”
“Of course, My Lord,” she replied. She had hoped he would ask her—especially since the Duke was not able to dance at all.
He swept her toward the center of the room, where all of the couples were gathering. She felt proud to be at his side. She could almost forget that she was in danger of losing him. She could feel confident that they were going to end up together in that moment, wrapped within the spell of the evening. Everything felt possible. All she had to do was reach out and take his hand, let him sweep her away.
Eleanor stood back along the wall. There were several other lady’s maids there, dressed in neat muslin gowns, waiting for their mistresses to require their assistance or chaperoning.
She let her eyes wander the room, taking in all of the sights. It was a night that she wanted to remember. It was, by far, the finest ball she’d ever attended. She let her eyes feast on all of the rich colors and textures. The flowers, the streamers, the candlelight on jewels.
Over the music, she could hear the sound of a cane, tapping on the floor. She turned to find Aaron, walking toward her. Even though he was gaunt, the scar running down the side of his face, he was still handsome.
Her body reacted, remembering how he made her feel, could drive her into the absolute pinnacle of pleasure and ecstasy. Eleanor felt her cheeks heat as she blushed at the memory. She smiled, her eyes remaining on his.
“How are you, this evening, Eleanor?” he asked. “Are you enjoying the ball?”
“It’s positively enchantin
g,” she murmured. “It’s like magic.” It was. Though she had been to many London balls, she had never been to one that was quite so…extravagant as this.
“Louisa has always been so talented at decorating,” he commented, leaning a little against the wall. “It’s one of her strong suits. She like an artist, but with decorations and champagne.”
They were both quiet, looking around at the festivities. She knew that there were other rooms, with poets and music. One could wander all of Myrtlegrove Manor. The gardens, too, had different sections which were all lit up.
Undressed to Impress the Duke : A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 23