Page 95 of His Forbidden Duchess
“Your Grace,” Stephen began, his tone smooth as ever, “I must confess, I envy His Grace. Such beauty and wit under one roof—one can only imagine the joy it brings him.”
Eloise managed another faint, polite smile, but she cringed inwardly at his words. The tea tasted slightly more bitter than usual although she tried to dismiss it.
“That is very kind of you to say, Stephen,” she replied, her voice cool. “Though there really is no need to keep complimenting me.I am certain we can find some other conversation with which to amuse ourselves. How are the renovations coming along?”
“Quite well indeed,” Stephen said. “And I must thank you for the most excellent recommendations you made in terms of staff. The gardening team has already done a wonderful job, and the new housekeeper is settling in nicely. Life here in Kingswell is beginning to appeal to me more and more.”
She sipped her tea, suppressing a sigh as Stephen droned on, casting searching glances her way that made her feel uncomfortably exposed.
She was certain that if she was not already married, Stephen would have made a move to secure her hand. There were, of course, issues with Felix, but even a life alone while her husband remained in London would be better than a life with the Viscount.
“Did I tell you that I am going to restore the west wing?”
“I cannot recall that you did,” Eloise replied dryly.
Eloise suppressed a sigh and examined the details in the wallpaper which were significantly more interesting than their conversation.
She wished Hannah was present for company, but she had claimed to be unwell.
Eloise wondered if she should have done the same. Her own stomach was growing unsettled, and she wondered whether it was due to her company.
She was beginning to see why Felix disliked Stephen so fiercely.
“It was apparently damaged in a fire a few years ago,” he continued. “Such a shame, the brickwork was phenomenal. I would like to restore it to its original glory if I am able. I do hope your husband can help in that regard. I have heard he has a great eye for such things. When did you say he will return?”
“I did not,” she said softly, her gaze drifting back to him. “I am afraid I do not know when he will be back. He is a terribly busy man, My Lord.”
“Of course.”
Eloise leaned forward and set her cup down, wondering how she could politely refuse to see Stephen the next time he came to visit.
Footsteps suddenly echoed down the hall as if in response to her question. They were not the quiet, timid footsteps of the butler or the rushed, dainty footsteps of the scullery maid.
These footsteps were determined. Authoritative.
Felix.
“Good afternoon,” he announced in a cold voice as he stepped into the room, his glaring eyes already upon Stephen.
Eloise turned and blinked at him. His cold and steely gaze narrowed at the sight of the two of them alone. She noted the way his hands clenched at his sides, hostility radiating from him as he scanned the room.
His gaze darted to the empty chair where Hannah should have been sitting, and his jaw tightened.
Eloise’s heart pinched. Despite the situation he looked handsome and regal. If anything, his fury made him even more alluring, but his magnetism did not distract her from worrying. He would not take kindly to her taking tea with the man whom he had already instructed her to stay away from.
“Where is Lady Hannah?” Felix’s tone was hard, his gaze moving rapidly from Eloise to Stephen, his suspicion obvious.
Eloise tilted her head, hoping to temper his brusqueness. She wished he could understand her need to remain polite and perform her duties as duchess, particularly during his absences.
“She was feeling unwell and thought it best to rest,” she replied. Her heart thumped forcefully in her chest, but seeing Felix again made her want to prove a point. “Lord Kaylocke was kind enough to stay and keep me company. It has been very lonely here since you left, you understand.”
She stared at him, daring him to question her, remembering with fondness the way they used to tease each other.
She felt her stomach cramp sharply and a wave of nausea washed over her, but she forced herself to stay composed.
“Whatever are you doing here, Your Grace?”
“This is my house,” he replied, his tone cutting as he looked back at Stephen, “and I had reason to return.”
