Enchanting the Duke (The Seven Curses of London Book 11)

by Lana Williams

  That had not been the case. She’d worked her way under his skin, her presence becoming evident in every corner of his life.

  But a glance up at the painting of his grandfather standing before Rothbury House was all it took to remind him of his responsibilities. His personal wants and needs were well down the list. Embroiling himself in emotions would only lead to neglect of his duty and that was something he couldn’t allow. Especially not when he was finally gaining ground in repairs and improvements thanks to Eleanor’s fortune and his own hard work.

  “I called on the Duchess of Burbridge this afternoon.”

  “Oh?” Her need to converse during meals further eroded his efforts to keep his distance. When he’d suggested there was no purpose in idle chatter, she’d advised him that it was necessary for not only their sakes as the duke and duchess but for the servants’ sakes as well. They needed to present a united front for the staff, she insisted. She considered it one of her duties to keep him apprised of her activities, regardless of whether he wanted to hear about them.

  The memory of the conversation once again had his lips twitching with the unfamiliar urge to smile. His wife might have been considered merry by Society, but she had firm principles she lived by and that was something he could appreciate. She’d already advised him that she intended to decorate Rothbury House for Christmas upon their return. When he told her there were no decorations, she’d been appalled and shared that she would rectify the lack. He couldn’t quite imagine having the house full of holiday charm but part of him was curious to see what she’d do. Not anticipation, of course. Merely curiosity, he reassured himself.

  “She and her husband are hosting a house party at their estate just outside of London next week.”

  He continued with his soup, wondering what this had to do with him. Surely, she didn’t think they’d attend.

  “We’re invited, of course.”

  He paused to look at her.

  Those twin pools of brown that reminded him of the soil at Rothbury House—rich and full of promise—met his. “I already advised her we couldn’t possibly attend.”

  Was that a hint of sarcasm in her tone?

  “However, she did go on to explain the purpose of the party is actually to expand a charity for an orphanage with the hope of having more people involved.”

  “Hmm. Burbridge mentioned it to me at the club this afternoon.”

  She stared at him, one dark, winged brow raised in question. “You went to a club?”

  “To White’s. For a meeting.”

  “I see.” She nodded slowly as if fascinated by his answer.

  It shouldn’t bother him if she acted surprised that he did normal things like meet acquaintances or visit clubs. Of course, she believed him dull. In fact, he preferred she thought so. Then perhaps she’d no longer look at him with expectation in her eyes. As if at any moment, he would change into someone more to her liking. It was as if she sometimes forgot that theirs was a marriage of convenience.

  Never mind that he occasionally forgot it as well. Most often on his weekly visits to her bedchamber. In the dark of the night, it was easy to shed the cloak of responsibility and the strict discipline he lived by and simply be a man with needs who was married to a beautiful, desirable woman. The thought of just how desirable had him shifting in his chair.

  She cleared her throat. “Given that this charity is one I’m interested in lending a hand with, I think we should consider going. To the house party. At the Burbridges.”

  He studied her as Morris removed their soup bowls. She acted rather nervous. Was that because she wanted to attend so much?

  “I will consider it,” he said after a long pause, surprising himself with his answer. In truth, he’d never attended a house party. Nor had his family done anything to celebrate Christmas, other than allow the servants an extra day off and provide a gift to them on Boxing Day.

  He respected Burbridge and found his actions admirable. Douglas was intrigued by the way he managed his estates as well as by the stories of his father. The previous duke sounded like an interesting man, so different than Douglas’s own father or even his grandfather, both of whom had been total opposites and butted heads frequently.

  His grandfather had frequently told Douglas how fortunate it was that he hadn’t died and left the duchy in his son’s hands.

  “Your father allowed a woman to ruin him mentally and emotionally,” his grandfather said. “Never ever allow the same tragedy to happen to you.”

  “Douglas?”

  He glanced up only to realize Eleanor was addressing him. “My apologies. I was woolgathering.”

  She blinked as if the possibility of him doing so surprised her. “I asked if you could advise me of your thoughts within the next two days. I’ll need to send our regrets to Lillian.”

  “Of course.”

  Morris brought the next course, an appetizing roasted beef with vegetables. Eleanor smiled and thanked him as he offered the fare. This time, Morris’s smile was nearly a grin. What on earth was happening to the elderly servant?

  “I assume you know they had a baby boy?” Eleanor asked before biting into a glazed carrot.

  Her mouth formed a perfect circle as she took the bite, and the urge to kiss her filled him. The thought made him realize his question should be what on earth was happening to him, never mind Morris. Eleanor seemed to be casting a spell over everyone under his roof.

  “Burbridge mentioned it.” He frowned as he returned his attention to his plate. He would do well to keep his eyes away from Eleanor, no matter what she was doing. Her movements were feminine, elegant, and graceful and he had yet to grow accustomed to her. That must be the reason for his distraction.

  “Lillian is very happy,” Eleanor continued.

  “No doubt relieved to have fulfilled her duty.”

  Now Eleanor was the one to frown. “I don’t think that has anything to do with her joy.”

  He waited, somehow certain she’d explain.

  The light in her eyes dimmed and she shook her head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

  Though aware he’d disappointed her and bothered by it more than he cared to admit, he didn’t know how to respond. So he kept his silence.

  The faint sound of her father’s voice from several months ago echoed in his head—Take good care of her, won’t you?

  Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a terrible idea to attend the house party after all.

  Chapter Two

  “I can’t believe you’re here!” Lillian declared as Eleanor and Douglas stepped into the entrance hall of the Duke and Duchess’s country estate, just outside London.

  “Nor can I,” Eleanor agreed, still astonished that Douglas had agreed to attend the house party. She had yet to determine what had come over him.

  She couldn’t help but cast a glance to where he now stood speaking with Burbridge. The irritation that flooded her was welcome and preferable to the hurt that had been her constant companion during the trip.

  The weather for mid-December was chilly but not unbearably so, which meant he’d chosen to ride his horse rather than sit in the coach with her. Obviously, her hope that he actually wanted to spend time with her was nothing more than wishful thinking on her part.

  But she was done with that. Enough was enough.

  When he glanced at her, she deliberately turned her back on him and smiled at Lillian. Never mind that her lips felt stretched and tight from the action. Was it any wonder that she was out of practice smiling when her husband never did?

  “Thank you for having us.” The time had come to focus on herself and her own enjoyment of the holiday. That started with spending as much time with Lillian as possible during their stay. If all went well, she would hardly have to see the Dour Duke. Obviously, that was his preference.

  “We’re so pleased you accepted our invitation.” Lillian’s brow crinkled as if she were puzzled by Eleanor’s expression, but she was too polite to question it. “I’ll have y
ou shown to your chamber so you can rest.”

  “No need.” Eleanor waved a hand in dismissal. “The journey was relatively short.” She glanced about, doing her best to take her thoughts from Douglas. “Have the other guests arrived?”

  “Most will come on the morrow.” Lillian looked over Eleanor’s shoulder for a long moment then looped her arm through Eleanor’s and pulled her toward the stairs. “Why don’t we have tea in the drawing room, and you can tell me about your plans for Christmas.”

  Eleanor assumed her look had been for Burbridge with the silent communication some couples used as she heard the two men following them up the stairs. “We don’t have any specific plans, though I hope to see my mother and father at some point.”

  She’d asked Douglas what his traditions were for the holiday, only to be told he didn’t have any. What sort of answer was that? Left with no other option, she’d spoken to the butler who confirmed that Douglas didn’t celebrate Christmas other than providing gifts for the staff on Boxing Day. No greenery, no Christmas tree, nothing. Even worse, Morris had advised that while Douglas’s mother had attempted to note the holiday, celebrating Christmas abruptly ended upon her passing. The realization that his childhood had been empty of the lovely memories she had of the holiday made her heart hurt.

  Whether that meant Douglas didn’t want to do anything special to mark the holiday had yet to be determined. Christmas was one of her favorite times of the year. Her parents had always made the twelve days of Christmas memorable. Eleanor intended to do the same, though perhaps that wouldn’t be necessary until they had children. Celebrating by herself seemed pointless, but she would decorate and plan a special meal at the very least. Wouldn’t it be better to ease Douglas into the custom year by year?

  Lillian gestured for Eleanor to sit on the settee and settled on the long sofa directly across from her.

  Burbridge joined his wife but of course, Douglas remained standing behind Eleanor. Heaven forbid he be in proximity to her.

  “Don’t you want to take a seat?” Lillian asked him.

  “I prefer to stretch my legs after the ride here.”

  Eleanor couldn’t help the renewed hurt that tightened her chest. Why had he suggested they come if he didn’t want to spend any time with her? Surely he knew they would be expected to act as a couple. She did her best to keep a mask of polite interest on her face—anything to keep Lillian from realizing how upset she was.

  Was she truly nothing more than a means to an end for him? Her fortune mattered, but she didn’t? As much as her parents had wanted this marriage and for their daughter to become a duchess, she knew they wouldn’t have forced her to marry Douglas if she hadn’t wanted to.

  She had made the choice. All because of what she thought she saw in him. The way he held himself apart with a wary watchfulness as if uncertain of his welcome. The way he watched her as if he found her intriguing. She’d thought his solemness would be countered by her joyfulness. Honestly, her attraction to him had colored her expectation of what their marriage would look like, setting it too high.

  With each day that passed, she worried she’d made a mistake. Somehow, she needed to find a way to live with it. That would be much easier if he weren’t standing directly behind her, a reminder that he was out of reach both physically and emotionally.

  Yet she couldn’t dismiss his good qualities. Perhaps she needed to shift her focus to those to release her disappointment and accept him for who he was.

  The faint scent of his soap along with the smell of the outdoors reached her nose. He always smelled good. That was one more thing she liked about him. For today, that would be enough. She’d think of a different attribute tomorrow.

  She heaved a sigh, well aware that despite her vow to stop her efforts to gain his affection, she wasn’t ready to give up. The memory of the little girl and older woman waving at him from the window stole into her thoughts, and she wondered once again who they were.

  “You don’t mind, do you?” Lillian asked.

  Eleanor blinked, realizing too late that she’d been so immersed in her thoughts she’d lost track of the conversation.

  Lillian’s gaze shifted from her to Douglas, looking expectantly at them both.

  Eleanor turned to look up at him over her shoulder with the hope he’d answer on their behalf to whatever Lillian had asked.

  He met her gaze and raised a brow, suggesting he’d defer to whatever her preference was. The silence stretched longer by the moment.

  “Of course not.” Eleanor looked back to smile at Lillian, hoping she’d answered correctly.

  “Wonderful. With so many guests, the house will be full to the brim. The two of you sharing a chamber will help.”

  Eleanor’s stomach dropped. Share a chamber? With Douglas? For several days? Oh dear. So much for hardly having to see her husband during the party. But maybe, just maybe, this was the opportunity they needed.

  ~*~

  Douglas followed Burbridge into his study later that afternoon, looking forward to continuing their discussion on advances in farming. He didn’t want a poor harvest to ruin all he’d worked toward. Any opportunity to improve land management and the crops they produced was welcome. It would benefit his tenants as well as the duchy.

  “My father was a proponent of innovations when possible.” Burbridge pointed to two books on the corner of his desk. “I’m certain you’ve already read these?”

  Douglas stepped closer to read the titles. “The Farmer’s Guide to Scientific and Practical Agriculture. Indeed. I thought many of the ideas interesting, including feeding cattle turnips and the different ways to fatten swine in the winter. However, my grandfather disagreed with much of the author’s advice.”

  Burbridge chuckled. “So often our elders are reluctant to try anything new, aren’t they? But we’ve had measurable success with some of the advice.”

  “We?”

  “It’s not as if I do everything myself. I have trust in my steward and many of the tenants.”

  Douglas preferred to do as much himself as possible. But of late, he had to admit the list of tasks was overwhelming. “I’m surprised you’re taking time away from your duties to host the house party.”

  “It was Lillian’s idea, of course. But stepping away for a short period can often provide objectivity.”

  “Hmm.” Douglas didn’t have time for that. Especially now that he had the funds to make repairs and improvements.

  “I tend to agree with most everything my wife suggests.” Burbridge grinned.

  Douglas didn’t return the smile. How could he when he didn’t understand his comment?

  “Come now, Rothbury. Though you’re newly married, I’m sure you’ve already realized the wisdom of agreeing with your bride. Keeping our wives happy is our responsibility.”

  Safe, yes. But happy? Douglas hadn’t considered that before. Nor was he certain that making Eleanor happy was within his power. She’d seemed displeased with his choice to ride to Burbridge’s estate, but he’d wanted the chance to gain a better understanding of the land and holdings. Staring out the coach window would’ve made that difficult. At least one with her in it. Now he wondered if he should have explained that to her.

  “I can see by the look on your face that you might need more practice.” Burbridge chuckled. “A house party is the perfect time to do that.”

  Based on the chilly looks he’d received from Eleanor since their arrival, he had his doubts. Were those only because he had ridden here, or was she growing weary of their marriage? Or rather, of him? How odd to realize he didn’t like to think any of that was true. Since when did it matter what Eleanor thought of him?

  “Knowing my wife, many of the activities will be centered on Christmas and mistletoe will be involved,” Burbridge added. “Not that married couples need an excuse for kissing, but not all of the guests are married.”

  Kiss Eleanor in broad daylight? To his surprise, the idea bloomed in his thoughts, presenting all sorts of possi
bilities though making him decidedly uncomfortable.

  “What does mistletoe have to do with the orphanage?” The charity was the reason they were here, he reminded himself. Not for silly things like mistletoe.

  “You’ll hear more about the charity on the morrow when the other guests arrive. For now, shall we move to the billiard room?”

  Douglas sighed, deciding it was going to be a very long day if so little was going to be accomplished.

  ~*~

  “He’s beautiful,” Eleanor whispered as she drew a gentle finger along the baby’s cheek that Lillian held. “So precious.”

  “I never realized how much of a miracle babies were until I had one of my own.” Lillian gazed adoringly at the swaddled form in her arms. “Even when he’s crying, I can’t help but think how wondrous he is.”

  Eleanor chuckled. “That is surprising.”

  Louis Richard Waters was a healthy boy with doting parents. When Lillian had shared that she was nursing the baby herself, Eleanor nodded in approval. That was what she intended to do as well, if possible. Wet nurses were well and good, and bottle feeding was popular, but she’d rather care for her own baby as much as possible, despite the belief of some women, including the queen, that upper-class women were too genteel to breastfeed. Eleanor welcomed the bond she hoped it would provide and was grateful to find an ally and a role model in Lillian.

  They sat in Lillian’s sitting room before dinner. Eleanor knew she should venture to their bedchamber to change, but the worry of running into Douglas kept her from doing so. How would she survive sharing not only a chamber but a bed with him for five whole days?

  Did she ignore him? Pretend it was a normal occurrence? Find a way to take advantage of this time? Surely once the other guests arrived and there were more activities, they’d both be too tired to worry. She nearly scoffed at the thought. As if she could dismiss Douglas’s presence in any situation. Heat curled through her when he so much as glanced at her.