Page 7 of The Duke's Ultimatum

Although Derek anxiously awaited the day someone gave him the opportunity to debate that sentiment. He cracked his knuckles at the thought.

“Yes, I assume you will have to.” William opened his parcel bag and pulled out a ledger, placing it on Derek’s desk.

“Here are the numbers you asked for.”

“And?” Derek asked as he paged through the papers.

“It’s not good. It seems Graynor had enough in his coffers to get his family through the next year or so, but it’s dwindling quickly. I’m assuming having three daughters to provide for was thecause. If the oldest was married by now, it most likely wouldn’t be so bad.”

Derek rolled his lips. “I figured as much. Well, that settles that. She needs to be married.”

William scrunched his eyes. “Just like that? You think it will be that easy?”

Derek chuckled. “William. You offend me. I have done with business with some of the most frugal and manipulative businessmen this world has to offer. I can take care of three young women.”

Now, all he would have to do is get through the ball, so he could focus on getting the women married, so he could get back to the life he was meant to live.

CHAPTER 3

The day of the ball was as chaotic as expected with her mother barking orders to scared housemaids and the deaf butler. The one saving grace was that no one in her family had seen the Duke since his arrival.

The only person who saw him was his solicitor, William, who had been in and out several times within the past two days. Heaven knew what they were doing, but if it meant the Duke was locked away in the study, Eleanor was fine with it.

She found his demeanor callous and lacking. Personally, she would be fine if he stayed in his study throughout the ball and for the rest of his time there.

That evening, Eleanor took her usual place next to her mother while Sarah and Beatrice stood to her other side. Eleanor took a deep, cleansing breath. With all the upheaval of the Duke’s arrival, it felt nice to fall into a familiar rhythm even if it meant standing on tired feet in a crowded ballroom, making small talkabout nonsensical things. This was her element; this is where she thrived.

Ever since she could remember, her mother molded her daughters into perfect examples oftonpropriety. They each knew when to speak, what to say, and how to say it all with a flirtation or a laugh. Nothing too forward, mind you. They didn’t want to be seen as wantons. “Always save something for the wedding, my dear,” was a famous Charlotte saying.

“How lovely it is to see you, again, Lady Marsh. Are you enjoying this fine weather we’ve been having?”

Lady Marsh touched Eleanor’s arm. “It’s been lovely, dear. My Harold and I have been enjoying taking walks in our garden. You know, our son Leonard is in town.” Her crinkly face widened into a knowing smile.

Eleanor did her best to repress the eye roll. “How lovely. You must love seeing him again. I hear he was out of the country for some time.”

“Oh yes, I do love our boy, but I think it’s time for him to settle down.”

Eleanor took a deep breath. Lady Marsh’s “boy” was well over forty years old, old enough to be her father.

“I wish him well in the marriage market then.” Eleanor glanced around the room, hoping to find a friendly face to save her.Instead, her eyes clashed with the bright blue ones of the new Duke.Derek.

She found herself smiling at his name. Of course, she could never call him Derek, but she had to admit the idea of it was enticing, even if she didn’t particularly care for the man.

“Isn’t it your third season, my dear?” Lady Marsh’s raspy voice broke through her reverie.

“Hmm?” Eleanor tried refocusing on the old woman in front of her, but her eyes kept drifting back to deep pools of blue.

“It’s your third season. You should be settled down as well. You know I was thinking?—”

“Oh, excuse me, Lady Marsh, but my mother is summoning me. It must be time to introduce the Duke. Please do excuse me. I hope to speak with you soon. Enjoy the rest of your night!”

Eleanor picked up her skirts and sashayed around the ballroom, quickly escaping the woman.

“Ah, Eleanor, I was just talking with Viscount of Hountshire. Have you two met?” Charlotte’s face told Eleanor all she needed to know about the Viscount. This was her mother’s pick for her.

Eleanor tilted her head down. “I haven’t had the pleasure. Lord Hountshire, it is an honor to meet you.”

The man looked just a few years older than Eleanor. He took her hand and placed a chaste kiss to the top of her wrist.

---