A Night Rose for the Duke: A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance

by Fanny Finch

  Eleanor had been making a painful effort to avoid looking at his face. But in that moment, she knew she could not avoid it any longer.

  Everyone had their attention on them, and they on each other. Those eyes, once more, they pierced right through her.

  “Fancy running into you here, my lady. It is always a great pleasure meeting you.”

  The tingly feeling she often felt in his presence began to travel over her body. Even her stomach churned.

  She willed her heart to still as he took her hand in his, to kiss softly as he bowed.

  The sensations traveled up her hands, straight to her heart. As he rose, the force of his gaze affected her once more.

  “I could say the same, Your Grace. I never knew you hold affections for plays.”

  “I am a lover of art, my lady, all forms of art.”

  The way his eyes twinkled, and his lips spread in a grin, made her wonder if he was speaking of something she did not fully understand.

  Alas, it seemed like others did, for when she finally looked away from him, she found knowing smiles on everyone’s faces.

  Suddenly feeling tense, she urged her brother forward. “You too must meet my brother. Viscount of Humshire, Edwin Wimbledon. Edwin, this is His Grace, Duke of Grenshire, Charles Duncan. He is Rachel’s brother.”

  Both men greeted each other, and Eleanor observed quietly as they did.

  Edwin had a way of estimating a person. He often showed it when he did not get a good feeling from someone.

  She was relieved when she saw that he seemed taken by Charles. It was nice to know that the Duke raised no alarms where her brother was concerned.

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Your Grace. My sister did not tell me she had met Mrs. Wentworth’s brother, as well.”

  “I claim the honor. I am certain the lady does not concern herself with matters of inconsequence.”

  What? Eleanor opened her mouth to dispute his words, but the Dowager Duchess managed to speak first.

  “Oh, Charles. You do have a wicked humor sometimes. It must have slipped the lady’s mind, I’m certain,” she said, her warm smile still on.

  “Now, enough of these introductions. The play shall be starting any moment from now, and I would not like to miss any of it.”

  Something seemed to occur to her. "Since there are six of us, and the family’s box happens to have room enough for six people, why don’t you and the fine young man join us in our box? More company is often more enjoyable.”

  The Dowager Duchess had a strange glint in her eyes, and Eleanor reckoned that meant that she had a plan.

  One that Eleanor was afraid she did not want to be a part of. So quickly, she protested.

  “Thank you, Your Grace. You are so kind to extend this hospitality towards us. However, I fear we have to decline. We do not wish to cause any inconvenience.”

  “Inconvenience? Nonsense! Like I said, there is more than enough room for all of us. Beyond that, it only makes sense that we all sit together since we are all friends now, are we not?”

  Knowing that she would not win this argument, Eleanor nodded. The Dowager Duchess instantly lit up at her victory.

  “Very well. All is settled then. Let us not spend any more time here. Into the theatre, we must go.”

  Chapter 15

  Eleanor marveled at how easy things had turned.

  It was easy to see that the Dowager Duchess was a charming, yet formidable woman who did not take no for an answer. Just as she had taken an easy liking to Rachel, a fondness for the woman was instantly formed.

  They all marched into the theatre and easily found their box. As they did, they settled in. The box was big enough to contain all of them, and leave room for movement.

  It was also situated at a great vantage point, putting the stage at spectacular view in front of them. Eleanor was pleased that from this position, she would miss nothing of the play.

  Somehow, by the time they were all seated, Eleanor found herself sitting beside Charles.

  The Dowager Duchess had claimed Edwin, saying that she needed a fine young man by her side. Thomas and Rachel had sat next to each other as was to be expected.

  Eleanor had been left with no other choice other than to take the seat next to Charles.

  It was easy to tell from the secret smiles on their faces that this was a well-thought out plan that had been carefully executed.

  The Dowager Duchess looked very happy to see her son seated next to her. Eleanor wondered if she would continue to feel that way once she heard her story.

  The curtains were drawn up, the stage received the illumination of the hall’s chandeliers, and murmurs of excitement swept the audience. The play was about to begin.

  While she was terribly aware of the man by her side, his mere presence exuding heat and warming her, Eleanor knew she had to forget him and pay attention to the play if she hoped to enjoy her night truly.

  Not that she felt unsafe. No, on the contrary, she felt quite safe and strangely at ease. It proved a struggle trying to resist the urge to lean into him.

  The fact that she desired such close contact troubled her.

  She had finally had to step out after a fortnight in her home, and the universe still brought her to this man.

  If only she still had a good relationship with fate, she would have thought that perhaps, it was trying to tell her something.

  Perhaps, it was. Mayhap, this was fate’s way of telling her to be wary of this man, for it had the power to take him away if she got too close.

  The first set of actors soon graced the stage and eager to not miss a single moment of the rendition, she willed herself to forget her thoughts as well as the man.

  Well into the play, she realized that she no longer needed conscious efforts to do that. The play was too intriguing and it held her captive, so much so that the thoughts had flown away on their own and she had grown comfortable with the man beside her.

  Occasionally, when an amusing scene was acted out and they all laughed, their bodies brushed slightly. It felt like the strike of lightning each time. Deep down, Eleanor relished it.

  “I do believe the redhead is the star of the play tonight. She acts her part so effortlessly,” she heard Charles comment.

  She nodded, agreeing. Another thing that had been happening all night were these comments they made to each other and often agreed on.

  It would seem that they both had the same eye for art. This piece of information was enlightening.

  “She is a natural. Other actors have been flawless in their rendition but she gives the play a whole new feel. As though one is watching the actual events play out.”

  “Exactly. It is quite a delight to watch. See how she shines.”

  “She is doing what she loves. It is only to be expected that she does it with such joy.”

  “Yes. I reckon as much.”

  Silence reigned again, but it was a comfortable silence. A while later, she broke it.

  “I know I have read the book before, but I am still eager to see how it all ends.”

  Charles laughed. The sound of it warmed her insides.

  “I know the feeling. Watching them bring these characters and hence the story to life, is quite different from living it in your head as you read. I love books, but I will always love plays better.”

  Benjamin had been a bright man, but he had cared little for literature. He had respected her love nonetheless, and had encouraged it. Yet, they had never been able to connect over a play this way.

  Not that the aim of this comparison was to make him seem less. God forbid, no. Benjamin held a place no one would ever hold in her life. He always would.

  Nevertheless, it felt new and nice to be able to share these little things with someone.

  For the first time, she tore her gaze away to look at the man. This close, she saw him better than she ever had, thanks to the well-lit hall.

  He must have felt her gaze, for he turned to look at her. Her breath held as
her heart pounded in her chest.

  “It is the same way I feel,” she said.

  He instantly lit up, his lips cracking a smile that spread from one far end to another.

  “I am glad that we happen to have the same outlook on things of art, my lady.”

  “It is a thing of awe, is it not?”

  Aware that she was missing scenes from the play, she willed herself to turn her head around, and return her attention to the stage.

  The rest of the play went by uneventfully. As the actors took their bows, everyone rose in standing ovation, wild cheers and claps filling the theatre. It was no less than a befitting ovation for the excellent acting.

  As the ovation died down, Eleanor’s party concluded that it was time to go. Slowly, they shuffled out of the box and out of the hall.

  Eleanor took a deep breath, relishing the cool night air that filled her lungs as they exited the theatre.

  “I am glad I decided to come out to see this play. I hear it is the last time it will be acted this season,” she said aloud to no one in particular.

  It was the Dowager Duchess who replied.

  “Yes. It was worth every minute. I could not help but observe that there were other dramas going on, aside that that was being acted on the stage. A good night all in all, if I have ever had one.”

  She turned her gaze to Edwin. “And this gentleman here, he made great company. We must do this again, dear Eleanor and Edwin.”

  Edwin was beaming from ear to ear as he kissed the Dowager Duchess’s hands.

  “I shall look forward to it, Your Grace. A splendid time it was, indeed. I feel honored to have had such spectacular company tonight.”

  The Dowager Duchess smiled. “Such charming young man. You shall make that woman you spoke so fondly of very lucky. Do bring your lovely Frances by next time, will you?”

  “Then who would keep you company, Your Grace?”

  “Worry not about me,” she said as her eyes twinkled. “I may just bring a man of my own,” the Dowager Duchess said in a mischievous tone, and they all laughed.

  Eleanor could not remember the last time she had felt so happy, so at peace. This family, they were all beautiful people.

  Farewells were made and Charles offered to walk her to her carriage. As they arrived, he took her hands and peered into her eyes. They drew her in.

  “There is a performance at the opera house on the morrow. I would like for you to come with me. It has been long since I attended one. I haven’t found the need for it in years, and I have not found anyone who I have wanted to take either.”

  All of her senses told her to refuse, but how could she, when he was looking at her that way? When the feel of his hands caused her skin to tingle all over?

  She was helpless as she was hopeless. So, when she heard herself speak, she was not surprised by her response.

  “I would love to.”

  ****

  The next evening came quickly, and though the hours had passed in a blur, Eleanor was in a jumble of conflicting emotions as she got ready for the outing with Charles.

  A part of her had looked forward to this time, right from the moment they had bade their farewells the night before, and another part had wished it would not come so soon.

  Like last night, she still wondered if more time with the duke was sensible, if it would do any good.

  However, her tongue had betrayed her, and now, she had to be a woman of virtue and keep to her word.

  On the other hand, she truly could not wait to see Charles once again. His presence brought such calmness to her, despite the tingles and butterflies. Despite the occasional racing of her heart.

  Beyond that, she was quite eager to watch an opera after so long, and with someone who wasn’t her brother or Frances.

  Charles had had so many lovely insights on the play last night. She wondered if they would also share the same insights on the rendition this night.

  “You seem quite lost in thoughts, my lady.”

  She looked into the mirror, at Frances’s reflection. Her companion was behind her, styling her hair up into a simple but fashionable hairdo.

  “Yes, Frances?”

  “I was only commenting on how lost in thoughts you seem. This duke, he must be quite a man.”

  She heard the teasing hint in Frances’s voice, and also the curiosity.

  Ever since her companion learned of this outing, she had been trying to press Eleanor for more information about the Duke. Eleanor had been more than happy to tell her Charles’ name, his demeanor, about his family, and nothing more.

  She knew Frances wanted to hear of what she truly thought of the Duke, and how he had managed to charm her into going to these outings.

  That was something she was not ready to speak of yet, however, not even to her brother.

  He had questioned her on the carriage ride back home, but she had simply told him Charles was a noble man and a soothing company.

  That had not been enough for Edwin, she knew this. Alas, he had done her the kindness of letting it go.

  If he could, surely Frances could too. She would tell Frances all about Charles, but only when she was certain of him herself, and whatever it was they were starting to have.

  “Indeed, he is quite an admirable man,” she responded to Frances’s comment. “Like I have told you, Frances. He is handsome, and charming. He seems noble and is a total gentleman. Do not worry, you shall see for yourself tonight. You shall be an escort, after all.”

  “You are not obligated to have an escort, my lady,” Frances reminded her. “You are a widow and he is a widower.”

  “Still, I am an unmarried young woman and he is an unmarried man in his prime. We bear no familial relations. You know it is what society demands.”

  Frances scoffed as she finally pinned up the last tendril of hair.

  “It is not as though I am fit to be your chaperone. This night should be for you and the Duke alone.”

  Eleanor frowned slightly at her reflection. “Since when did you begin to speak so much, Frances? Is there something else that bothers you?”

  A fleeting thought came to her mind. “Is it Edwin? Has he done something again?”

  Whenever Edwin and her had a fallout, Frances was always thrown into the foulest of moods. She spoke so much, or not at all. And when she did, she often proved difficult.

  Frances simply shook her head and finished her styling with a thin crown of beads.

  “It is nothing, my lady. Your brother has simply been too busy to concern himself with an inconsequential companion like me.”

  Ah, now I see what the problem is.

  “You know how a lord can be when they are away from their county for too long. They worry about their territory and their people. Then, they have to keep their businesses afloat too.”

  “I am sure he thinks about you dearly,” Eleanor reassured her. “And soon, he shall make some time for you.”

  Frances sighed. “I know. I am just being unreasonable. I just… I miss the quiet moments with him. It’s as though he rarely sees me these days. I mean, you are a countess and you see me,” she finished with a frown.

  This time, Eleanor let a chuckle escape as she rose. “I do not mean to make light of your plight, Frances. However, you truly do look adorable when you whine like this.”

  She went on to comment. “One moment you have no interest in my brother, and the next moment you are dying inside from the lack of his attention.”

  “You are my best friend, my lady. Who else would I tell these things to? Should I keep them in, so that they eat me up inside?”

  “Such drama, Frances. Such drama. Perhaps, you belong in the theatres like that redhead from last night. Nevertheless, I do understand your pain.”

  She turned in her seat so that she could reach for Frances’s hand and take it.

  “Never worry, dear friend. I shall speak with Edwin about it. Subtly of course, very subtly, so that he shall never suspect we had this conversation,” she a
dded when Frances’ eyes widened in alarm.

  The girl visibly relaxed. “Thank you, my lady. You are too kind.”

  “And you, my dear Frances, are too sweet.”

  Just then, the doors flew open, and one of her servants stepped in.

  With head slightly bowed, and after a shallow curtsy, she spoke. “My lady, Mr. Yates wishes me to tell you that His Grace has arrived.”