The Duke's Desire

by Elizabeth Elliot

  “Please do not ask me that. I have never lied to you and, since I cannot tell you the truth, it is best to not ask.”

  Their eyes remained lock for some time. Eleanor wished she could tell him everything. The burden these last few years had been was nearly breaking her, but this season, it was far more strenuous a burden than she had prepared herself for. But she and Marcus had vowed they would speak of it to no one and Eleanor could hardly go back on a vow to her brother, even if the concern in the Duke’s eyes right now made her breathless. With the last of her voice, she whispered.

  “I have made a promise, Lord Wakefield, and if you ask me that question, I will break that vow.”

  He was not pleased. She could she him forcing his anger away. It was all there in his eyes. Finally, with a curt tone he whispered.

  “Can you at least tell me that this is not being forced upon you as some sore of punishment, because, truly Miss Pinecrest, I will kill your brother if he is forcing this on you.”

  And then, just to prove the truth of his words, he held her gaze and touched her cheek. She was so startled by the gesture and his word that she found herself unable to move. His hand was so soft against her. How could he be so strong and yet so gentle? Good God, she did not want the moment every to end.

  “My brother, your grace, has a great many faults, but I assure you he would never do anything that would purposely injure myself or Felicity.”

  His searched for the truth in her eyes and she knew he found it. And then he nodded slightly and noted.

  “I apologize. It was just you were so adamant to stop him from courting my sister… I thought… I thought…”

  “My brother is a bit lost right now, your grace. He is not prepared to take care of a wife, and certainly not ready to be the kind of man, or husband, that would be worthy of your sister. No matter how deeply I love him, I can still recognize his faults. He is not a cruel man, your grace, he is just… he is just… he was just not prepared for all the responsibility thrust upon him so early in his life.”

  Something flashed in his eyes at her statement, a look of empathy maybe, but his eyes returned back to her feet and, as he continued removing her shoes, she noted that his whole body seemed tense. This was why his family adored him. Even now, as angry as he seemed, he was taking extra care not to cause her feet more harm. Focused on his task she heard him whisper in a gruff but calmer voice.

  “This is probably going to hurt Miss Westbrook.”

  Eleanor was sure it would.

  “I know.”

  His gaze reached hers again and she saw the question in his eyes. Sadly, this was not the first time her feet had reached such a state. Eleanor knew far too well the level of pain trying to remove the shoes would cause. Softly, holding back her tears, she offered all she could.

  “This is not the first time Lord Wakefield.”

  “Storm.”

  “Storm,” she whispered as if testing what how his name would sound from her lips. “Storm, it is best to just pulling them off quickly. My first instinct was to be gentle, but I can assure it that it will only prolong the pain.”

  Again, she could see he wanted to question her but he simply remained silent and nodded his head. His locks were failing over his brow and Eleanor found that all she wanted to do was reach out and brush them away from it. Her fingers longed to know how his locks would feel against her skin. Clearly her attraction to him was only growing since seeing this tender side. All thoughts of him escaped her, however, when she felt his grip on her ankle tighten and then quickly pulling off the first shoe.

  Unable to stop it, she heard the sharp intake of her own breath and silent tears fell from her eyes. He cursed under his breath and mumbled an apology but Eleanor could barely notice. Bracing herself she closed her eyes and felt him reposition his hands to remove her next shoe. Pain raced through her feet and before she could speak she heard her shoes collide with the wall behind her with a loud thump. Surprised she opened her eyes to see Storm standing back at his full height, his hands brushing back the locks that she had wanted to touch only moments ago. His eyes were full of thunderclouds glaring at her shoes as if they offended him. Having thrown them across the room had not seemed to satisfy his anger at all.

  Eleanor knew that her feet were bleeding and that she probably would have to suffer a great deal of pain before they healed, but none of that matter to her at the moment. All that matter was Storm. This man who she had feuded with since she had first met him was now so angry that she was in pain he could barely breathe. They both remained silent until finally Storm moved toward her and wiped a tear from her cheek.

  “I am going to get some salve. Stay here.”

  Then to try at least to lessen his angry, she offered him a weak smile.

  “It is not as if I am in a position to flee.”

  His eyes locked with her then, and although he knew that during their usual spars he would have found that one extremely amusing, all she saw right now was sadness. Eleanor would have found his concern for her deeply touching had she not felt so miserable.

  As Storm found himself gathering supplies to assist Miss Pinecrest his fury was growing. Although they did spend most of the time arguing about everything Storm had never disliked the woman. Her behavior toward his siblings had always shown kindness. But regardless of everything he knew that Eleanor Pinecrest did not deserve to be crying in a dark room during a ball because she was wearing shoes that did not fit her. There was no way one of his sisters would have suffered so much through a ball without him having knowledge of it. His respect for Marcus was quickly diminishing.

  He was going to just get her upstairs and then fetch a maid to tend to her, but one look in her amazing brown eyes and Storm knew that she needed more. Eleanor had been greatly neglected and it seemed he was the only one that noticed. Plus, the moment he had lifted her soft body into his arms, something had stirred within him that he could not explain. It felt like she had belonged there in some strange instinctive way. Storm decided he should not dwell too much on such thoughts at the moment. Right now, the only part of Eleanor Pinecrest he should worry over was her feet.

  Trying to regain some sense of control over his emotions Storm took a few deep breathes and returned to the room in which he had left the curious woman. She looked so fragile sitting on the bed with her feet dangling off of the side of it. Again, he felt anger rising to the surface. For all her faults he had never once thought of the eldest Pinecrest lady as a weak woman. Her strength was obvious in almost everything she did. When she argued with him, when she made sure her sister got all the attention she deserved and every time she dealt with his rambunctious family. Fragile was not a word that he should ever need to use when thinking about her.

  Not trusting himself to speak he crossed the room to her and knelt once more at her feet. He was glad to see that she was done protesting, but he wished it was not because she simply felt too defeated to try. Delicately taking her right foot in his hand Storm began to clean her injuries. The cool water must have felt good against her skin since in only a few moments she released her breathe as if she had finally found some relief. Then, softer than he had ever heard her before, Eleanor whispered.

  “You do not have to do this. I am sure you have more important matter to attend to. You have been so kind already and I would not want to waste more of your time. People will start to notice that you are missing from your own ball soon enough. If they have not already.”

  Storm instantly met her gaze. For one brief moment he was distracted again by the beauty of her eyes. Those dame lashes were bewitching. Finally, surprising himself as well as her, he returned to tending her feet and whispered.

  “I am where I am most needed right now, Miss Pinecrest.”

  “Eleanor.”

  Clearly, she was telling him the truth about her brother but she was just far too logical a woman to wear the blasted shoes without a good cause. What could be so bad that she could not confide in him? Well at least th
is was not her brothers doing he supposed. Then, unable to help himself, he whispered.

  “You can trust me, Eleanor.”

  Eleanor watched as the duke bandaged her feet inwardly torn about the situation she now found herself in. It was clear that he was mad. He was treating her with such gentle hands and taking such good care of her that Eleanor felt a pang of guilt for not telling him why she had come to be in such a state. Perhaps she should just confide in him. Surely, he would never speak of the matter. No matter how much they argued he had never done anything to hurt her family’s reputation. And he had confided in her a great deal already. But being near penniless was such an embarrassment. How could she possible tell a man who had everything that she was about to lose everything she had ever felt dear? As he finished tending to her second foot Eleanor sighed.

  “I want you to know that through all our squabbling, I have always thought you were a good man. In fact, I think… I think you are probably the best man I have ever met.”

  His eyes met hers and she could see he was both pleased and confused at her compliment. She knew that she was not making any sense right now. She did trust him and she longed to have someone to confide it. Someone who would try to assure her everything would be okay.

  “Why, then? Why will you not tell me what has happened? I know you made a promise, but clearly Eleanor you need help.”

  With a sigh she broke her gaze and looked out the nearby window.

  “If it were only my own secret to share, Storm, I would. You have been so kind.”

  He squeezed her hand and silenced her.

  “You are an honorable woman, Miss Pinecrest and I will accept that you cannot tell me in order to keep your promise, but, just to be clear, it will not stop me from trying to find out the answer on my own.”

  A small laugh escaped her and Eleanor felt something in her heart leap. Then, as if he had not already done enough for her, he continued.

  “In return, however, for not demanding the truth, I would like one thing?”

  Unable to find her voice, Eleanor nodded.

  “Tomorrow I am sending for a new pair of shoes. You will accept them. And you will wear them.”

  Her impulse to argue came quickly but Eleanor managed to rein it in. This was not the time to argue. She needed the shoes and she clearly would have no other way of getting them. Looking toward the windows where the rain still pounded down Eleanor once again let her tears fall as she responded.

  “Thank you.”

  Storm cupped her chin then and she felt his thumb softly brush away her tears once more. She could not imagine what he thought about her at that moment. Eleanor tried to smile weakly at him but the truth was she was completely worn out and tired. Tired of having to manage their funds so that Felicity may get the life she deserves. Tired of having to convince herself that after this season she would be happy. Tired of going to bed each evening scared that all the sacrifices she made would be for nothing. For once she was going to let this man win. When she thought back on her life Eleanor knew that, sadly, Storm Westbrook buying her a new pair of shoes was the nicest thing any would ever do for her.

  “Eleanor, I hope you know, rather, I hope you believe that you can always come to me for help. Even if you are not comfortable asking me for assistance please at least ask it of Bonnet and Hunter.”

  For a moment Eleanor almost told him everything. Storm was a gentleman very hard to resist when he was looking at you with such concern and tenderness in his eyes. Dear Lord but he was a beautiful man. A man far too beautiful to spend an evening tending to her feet she thought a bit regretfully. Knowing this may be her only chance and no longer caring how strange it would seem Eleanor reached out and brushed a lock of his hair from his brow, her finger trailing down his cheek before settling against his shoulder. She should never had allowed herself the intimate nature of her caress, but she wanted him to know how important his family was to her and it seemed like she needed him to feel her words as she said them.

  “You and your family have done more for me than you will ever know. It is the one debt that I will never be able to repay. I know that we have not always gotten along well together but the friendship of your family is the most important of my life and I thank you for allowing it.”

  They remained as they were, his hand cupping her chin, hers delicately placed on his arm the air around them seeming to change all that had been between them. His thumb caressed her cheek on last time before he rose.

  “I should let you rest but I would like something in return for keeping me from my ball this evening.”

  Mischief was back in his voice and Eleanor was glad that the serious tone that they had fallen into turned more playful. She needed to laugh a bit before the evening was over. Clearly, he had no concern about having missed some of the evening’s affair.

  “And what is it that you feel I owe you?”

  With a smile he headed toward the door.

  “I am sure I will think of something.”

  Laughing Eleanor smiled back at him. This was one debt she would be glad to pay.

  “Of that I have no doubt.”

  With that he stated he would send in a maid to help her change and promised that she would not be disturbed until morning. Thanking him once more Eleanor watched him leave and let herself fall back onto the luxurious bed she was sitting on blissfully unaware that her feet had been aching at all.

  Chapter Twelve

  Three days had passed and Storm noted that Eleanor’s presence at the evening affairs was lacking. Although Felicity and Marcus attending the evening entertainments their sister had apparently still claimed to be ill and remained home. Storm was starting to worry a bit. The boots he had sent her were of the finest quality and her feet should have been mending by now. Which was the only reason, he tried to convince himself, that he stood poised at her doorway at almost eleven in the evening.

  The butler looked surprised to see him at such an hour, but he was wise enough to allow him into the manor.

  “I am here to speak with Miss Pinecrest.”

  The butler hesitated.

  “She stated that she was not available for company, your grace.”

  Storm nodded but knew he was not going to leave without seeing her.

  “Perhaps you may tell her who is calling?”

  The butler again hesitated, but not wanting to anger a man of Storm’s station, the butler guided him into the nearby drawing room and stated he would check to see if she would speak with him. Somehow, he suspected that she would.

  Eleanor heard the commotion in the hallway and sighed. She could not handle the servants arguing right now. All she wanted to do was sleep the night away. As usual, however, luck was not on her side. A knock sounded on her door and a moment later Mrs. Cole entered.

  “Lord Wakefield is downstairs and is asking to speak to you.”

  Eleanor thought she must have misunderstood the woman.

  “He wishes to speak to me?”

  “Yes. It is quite improper calling at such an hour. Especially as your brother is not at home.”

  Eleanor had to agree.

  “Perhaps there is something wrong. Please tell him I will be down momentarily.”

  Her housekeeper silently showed her disapproval, but left the room to relay her message. As soon as she closed the door Eleanor ran to her looking glass. Good Lord she looked like an absolute disaster. She had been locked in her room for days. Her eyes were puffy from tears, her hair a disheveled mess and she was as pale as a ghost. Eleanor debated the option of keeping him waiting longer than she should so that she may pull herself together, but she could not imagine anything but an emergency bringing him here at such an hour, so she hastily did what she could to make herself presentable and headed downstairs to meet him.

  Eleanor entered the room and Storm felt that he was actually seeing her for the first time. He noticed her eyes were puffier, clearly from a night of crying. And she looked tired. To tired. It did not seem like she
just stayed up to late, it looked like she had not slept in a month. And then, well then there was her gown. It was so old and out of fashion, as were all her gowns. He again felt as if this was the most important fact about her. Then, when he recalled one statement she had made, the last piece of the puzzle clicked in his head. On that night, while she was thanking him for taking care of her, she had said told him that everything his family had done for her would be the one debt that she would never be able to repay. Her tired eyes, the old gowns, the shoes that she probably suffered wearing for years and his sister’s words about all the sacrifices Eleanor had made finally came together in his mind.

  The Pinecrest family was having financial trouble. From the look of it, they had a lot of financial problems. And Storm would bet a good sum Felicity had no clue. With that, he finally seemed to see Eleanor in the same eyes Bonnet had seen her these past few weeks. He felt like a total cad. All this time he had misjudged her. It was time to go about correcting it. Moving toward her he motioned to the chaise in the middle of the room. Her feet may have healed but he was sure she would be more comfortable sitting.

  “Lord Wakefield. Is something amiss?”

  “It is Storm to you now, remember.”

  She blushed at him and for a moment Storm saw a hint of the woman that she must have been before her father had passed. He could see her dressed in a lovely gown, her hair coiffed perfectly, blushing prettily as gentleman approached. A twinge of pain hit him at the sudden knowledge of just how much she must have given up. For her sister. For her brother. She would never be the woman she had been. Although now… now she was so much more. He cleared his throat.

  “Everyone is fine. I was just concerned about you.”

  Eleanor’s eyes widened with surprise.

  “You were?”

  “I could not help but notice your absence at the ballrooms and in my house. I thought perhaps your feet had gotten worse.”