Page 2 of The Duke's Ultimatum

Charlotte turned to a maid hiding behind the library door. The poor girl was standing stock-still, hoping not to be seen by Charlotte. “You there. Please go tell Mary to go to the study and make sure everything is in order for the Duke’s arrival. I assume he will want to settle into his study as soon as he arrives.”

Eleanor bristled. “He’ll be using Papa’s study?”

Charlotte shrugged, barely paying attention to her daughter as she moved the one chair, hoping to get the perfect angle off of the fireplace. “Of course, he is the Duke of Graynor now. Why wouldn’t he use the study?” Charlotte pushed the chair back to its original spot.

Eleanor absently tugged at her dress again. “I don’t know. I just assumed he would work somewhere else. That’s Papa’s study.”

Charlotte sighed. “I don’t want to sound crass, Eleanor, but it’s not like your father is using it. It is a study for the Duke of Graynor, and this afternoon, after a year of being empty, the Duke of Graynor’s study will once again be occupied by the Duke of Graynor.”

Eleanor took a deep breath, ignoring the pain in her ribs from the restriction of the corset. “I guess I didn’t connect that him coming here meant that he was truly the new Duke of Graynor.”

Charlotte looked up from the chair that she was pushing back and forth in front of the fireplace. “Eleanor, like it or not, this man received the title by official means through a distant relative of your father’s. He may be of common birth, but he worked his way up and is a self-made man. He has businesses all over England, and he is well known for being an intelligent, no-nonsense man. And if we want to continue living the life we live,” she shot Eleanor a pointed look, “we need him and his money.”

Eleanor dropped her eyes. It was on the tip of her tongue to question why her mother looked at her that way, but she knew why.

She was about to enter her third season out, and she has yet to find a worthy match. She’s had plenty of suitors, but none of them struck her as “the one.” Her mother was right, she was used to living a certain way with the freedom to turn down suitors she didn’t want.

She chewed on her bottom lip. That might no longer be the case. Without the Duke’s money, she might be finding herself in the position to be forced take a proposal she didn’t want.

“Now, enough of this. The Duke will arrive here any minute. Where are your sisters?”

Eleanor turned just as the two young girls in question appeared in the library’s doorway.

“Is he here, yet?” Sarah squealed as she fluttered in with a solemn Beatrice closely behind her. At just three years youngerthan Eleanor’s twenty years, Sarah was a romantic at heart and viewed the Duke’s arrival much differently than Eleanor. Whereas Eleanor didn’t trust the Duke, Sarah saw his arrival as exciting and more opportunities for scandal and gossip.

At fifteen, Beatrice cared more about her books than who was coming to dinner. Eleanor appreciated Beatrice’s nonchalance when it came to the Duke’s arrival. The girl simply didn’t care one way or another.

“He should arrive any moment. Now, come here; let me look at all of you.”

Charlotte fussed over each girl, smoothing out curls that laid perfectly fine or picking off imaginary lint from their dresses.

Eleanor stood in line, fidgeting with her corset as Charlotte fiddled with Eleanor’s bow that sat perfectly fine before her mother touched it.

“Eleanor, you must stop fiddling with your dress. You will wrinkle it.”

Sarah snickered. “Yes, Eleanor, we all must be presentable for the Duke,” she said, raising her eyebrows.

The girls giggled while Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Hush, Sarah. We must not talk like that in front of the Duke. We don’t want him thinking we’re…”

“Commoners?” Eleanor offered, knowing it was a slight towards the Duke, considering his upbringing.

Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “Not. Appropriate. Eleanor.”

Sarah straightened the bow in her hair. “I don’t care where he came from. He obviously knows what he’s doing and is a smart man—look at how wealthy he is. I wonder if he’s handsome.”

Eleanor laughed. “Sarah, I’m sure he’s much older than you.” Eleanor wrinkled her nose as a thought arose. “Has anyone ever actually seen him? He could be three times our age if he’s so well known in the business world. Plus, he’s the Duke of Graynor now; I don’t think any of us should be considering him as a potential match.”

Sarah waved her off. “The title was passed to him through marriage. There is no blood between us,” she said with a devilish grin. “Oh, and how much fun will the ball be? To think in just two days’ time, I’ll be dancing at a ball honoring a new duke.” She looked positively giddy as she spoke.

“I’m looking forward to the ball as well,” Beatrice chimed in from her seat in front of the fireplace. She was in the same chair Charlotte was moving before, and now that she was in it, Charlotte was eyeing it up again.

“You’re excited for a ball? You’re not even old enough to attend it,” Eleanor countered.

Beatrice offered a shrug as her mother tried pushing the chair to angle it off of the fireplace. “Mama said I can attend it since it’s in the Duke’s honor. I’m looking forward to seeing the show for myself.”

“Show, indeed,” Eleanor spat. “This is ridiculous. Mother, will you stop!”

Charlotte stood from her hunched position of trying to move the chair with Beatrice sitting in it.

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