Page 87 of His Forbidden Duchess
Chapter Thirty-Three
Eloise sat in the quiet of the morning room, the soft murmur of the household drifting through its walls, and watched the rain run down the windowpane.
It had been a week since Felix had left, a week since she had seen him, spoken to him, felt him.
It had been a long, hollow stretch of days that felt even emptier in his absence.
She had received only a brief note from him, a single line telling her he would be in London, nothing more. At least he’d had the basic decency to let her know, so she didn’t have to spend her days worrying that Jeremy had proposed a duel or something equally ridiculous.
After Felix had left, Eloise had spent the first few days in a stunned fugue replaying the fight, their anger, and the hateful accusations that had taken place between Jeremy and Felix. Butafter days of moping and pacing the echoing halls of Kingswell, her brooding had turned into outrage.
Neither Felix nor Jeremy had shown her an ounce of respect. As her husband and her brother respectively, she had expected more from them.
She stood, gave herself a quick glance in the looking glass, and inhaled a deep breath, ready to face the day with fresh resolve, when there came a knock at the door.
“Your Grace,” the butler said with a slight bow, “Lady Danridge is here to see you.”
Eloise sighed at her own reflection. Her mother’s theatrics were all she needed right now though she supposed it might be a welcome distraction. She was about to suggest she meet her in the drawing room when the familiar ring of her mother’s voice echoed down the corridor.
“Eloise! My darling, where are you?”
“I’m sorry, Your Grace,” the butler whispered. “I did ask her to wait in the vestibule but?—”
“It is all right,” Eloise replied. “I suppose my mother is welcome any time.”
Squaring her shoulders, she left the morning room to meet her mother in the hall. With concealed amusement she observedher mother’s wide-eyed delight as she took in the splendor of Kingswell Hall.
“Ah, there you are!” Lady Danridge exclaimed, pulling Eloise into an embrace before sweeping her gaze around the room with barely disguised glee. “Oh, Eloise, this place is magnificent! My daughter, Duchess of Kingswell!” She turned, clasping Eloise’s hands with a gleam of pride in her eye. “How fortunate you are, my dear. It is everything I dreamed for you.”
Eloise managed a faint smile, her heart too heavy to truly share in her mother’s enthusiasm. “Thank you, Mother, but you act as though you have never been here.”
“Not at all,” Lady Danridge said with a wave. “It is just that is stuns me every time I visit. So magnificent! Now, are you going to offer me some tea or are we going to stand here in the corridor all day? You know, if you are to be duchess, you must remember social etiquette when you have guests.”
Eloise blinked and forced a smile. Her mother had no idea how to run a household, yet she thought to lecture Eloise on it.
“Of course,” she managed. “The drawing room?”
“The drawing room, an excellent idea!” Lady Danridge grinned, but her eyes held a sharpness that made Eloise’s pulse quicken as they made their way through the house. “There is quite a lot we need to discuss.”
“There is?” Eloise asked her mother’s back. It seemed that Lady Danridge already knew her way around the house.
“Well,” she said over her shoulder, “you must know that London has been whispering. They say Felix has been seen at the gaming hells and other establishments of even lesser reputation.”
Eloise’s heart clenched. She had suspected as much; what else would a man like Felix do? But part of her had hoped he wouldn’t partake in his old ways.
Lady Danridge marched into the drawing room and took a seat at a small mahogany table by the window.
“Tea, darling,” she said throwing her daughter a serious look.
Eloise nodded to the maid, who quickly scuttled off to prepare the same.
Lady Danridge pursed her lips, shaking her head with a tut of disapproval. “If you must know, people are talking, Eloise. You should be listening out for such gossip so that you can manage it properly.”
“I do not care for gossip, Mother; you know that about me,” she replied.
“Well,” Lady Danridge said, her handkerchief in one hand and her other pressed against her heart. “Dear Eloise, they are wondering what sort of marriage you are truly leading. It isawful, I tell you, to hear such gossip about one’s own daughter. Do you ever think of my nerves?”
The words struck Eloise like a slap, but she held her composure, her hands folding tightly in front of her. “Mother, it is hardly anyone’s business except mine and Felix’s.”
