Page 14 of The Duke's Ultimatum

Eleanor chewed the inside of his cheek. “I didn’t speak with him much.”

“He is rather handsome though; you should give him a try.” Charlotte pointed her stirring spoon at Eleanor.

“Mama, he’s not a dress to try on,” Eleanor exclaimed.

Charlotte only shrugged at her daughter’s response.

“I’m annoyed with the Duke; if he didn’t disappear, I may have had another chance to dance,” Sarah whined as she stirred her tea.

At the mention of the Duke, Eleanor sat up.

Charlotte waved Sarah off. “Sarah stop being dramatic. You haven’t officially debuted. You will have your chance, my sweet.”

“Mama, we had a ball in his honor, and he was hardly even there.” Sarah looked at Eleanor. “We looked all over for him, he popped up out of the blue, said hello to some people, then left. Doesn’t that seem rude to you?”

Eleanor’s stomach dropped. Phantom kisses warmed her neck as memories of the previous night flooded her mind. “I, um, yes. That was unacceptable.” At this point, Eleanor didn’t know if she was agreeing with her sister or reprimanding herself for her actions the night before.

Charlotte raised a hand. “It no longer matters. He was there, people saw him, and all is well in our world.” Charlotte took a sip of her tea before adding in another sugar cube. “We must remember he is an important man; everyone wanted to speak with him last night. He was most likely talking business with other gentlemen.”

Eleanor snickered.He was talking business last night, except it was with a widow and not a gentleman.

“You know he has several businesses that he owns plus now us; the man carries a heavy load.”

Eleanor scowled. She didn’t appreciate being likened to a load.

“What kind of businesses does he have?” Eleanor inquired. “All I hear is that he’s known all around England. For what?”

“I heard he’s a pirate,” Beatrice whispered conspiratorially.

Charlotte gasped. “Beatrice! Where did you hear such nonsense.” She grimaced. “It’s nothing so untoward. He is a very respected business owner.”

“I heard he was commoner,” Sarah said wistfully. Eleanor rolled her eyes. While most of polite society looked down on commoners, Sarah saw them as forbidden fruit. Eleanor caught her reading one too many dime novels about men from the wrong side of the tracks who stole their woman away from propriety. It was total nonsense in Eleanor’s eyes, but through Sarah’s immature ones, it was the epitome of romance.

“A commoner?” Eleanor questioned her mother. “How does a commoner become one of the richest men in England?”

Charlotte took a sip of tea before answering. “His father was a solicitor, but when he came of age, instead of following in his father’s footsteps, he shirked his family’s plans for him and ventured out on his own.” She shrugged as if she were talking about something inconsequential, not the man who was now in charge of their very livelihoods.

“Shirked his family’s plans? Doesn’t that concern you, Mama? What if he decides to shirk his responsibilities regarding us?” Eleanor was appalled that her mother spoke so cavalierly about the man who was responsible for their well-being. What if he grew tired of the responsibility?

“Whatever for? He obviously made the right call. Would you rather have a lowly solicitor running our books, or a man who has four vineyards, three breweries, plus a lucrative export tradegoing all over the world, including the Americas? Doesn’t sound like much of a choice in my opinion,” Charlotte chided.

Eleanor chewed her bottom lip. “I don’t know, Mama. Something about him doesn’t sit right with me. He feels so…” Eleanor dove into her mind for the right word but couldn’t find an adequate one. She wanted a word that encompassed rude, brutish, rakish, and arrogant all in one.

Eleanor settled with, “… deviant.”

Sarah spit out her tea while Charlotte reared back, and Beatrice giggled.

“Deviant?” Charlotte whispered, looking around to make sure no one heard her daughter’s description.

Eleanor sat straighter, squaring her shoulders. “Yes. Deviant.” Proud of her word choice, she took a sip of her tea feeling victorious. He was a deviant, and being around him influenced her behavior to mimic his. That was the only logical explanation as to why she reacted to him the way she did. It was because of him; he must have coerced her someway.

“Why would you say such a thing?” Charlotte asked.

The smugness shriveled up leaving Eleanor pondering exactly how she could explain why she called him a deviant without calling into question her own deviant behavior.

“Um… well, I just… well, he?—”

“Oh, come now, Mama,” Sarah interjected. “Don’t tell me you didn’t see the way the widow Devin was pawing over him during their dance? Anyone with eyes could see he was appreciating the attention.”

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