Page 5 of The Duke's Forbidden Bride
Through the darkness of the countryside, Eleanor had found her way to Everdawn Hall.
When she’d arrived at the stables and hopped off her horse, her eyes had to adjust to the lights that illuminated the grand estate. It looked as though it emerged from the redwood trees that surrounded it.
Sprawling and turreted in places, Everdawn looked exactly as Charlotte had always described it.
Except Eleanor had not anticipated howbusyit was. Carriages lined up around the estate, and the stables were overrun withworkers rushing around to brush down horses and tend to them ahead of departure.
And now, she had to face a stable hand.
She recoiled from him, from the uniform that brought awful memories of her engagement ball and the week after it, the accusations and?—
“Yes,” she managed to say.
“Why are you loitering there? Go! You can’t dawdle on a night like this, whether you lost your assigned group or not. Hurry to the servants’ entrance with the others. We shall not have His Grace look down upon us.”
Eleanor nodded, stumbling out of the stables, confused and dazed. Quickly, she found her way to the indicated servants’ entrance, immediately sneaking in with a group of them, keeping her head down.
She received a few odd looks, but she noticed that some servants wore different uniforms.
Extra help.
Perhaps she would not stand out.
“Everdawn has not seen such an event in a long time,” one servant whispered quietly. “His Grace must be ever so proud of Lady Charlotte.”
“That is if he emerges. He has yet to show his face in the ballroom.”
Hearing her friend’s name made Eleanor straighten and strain her ears. If the Duke hadn’t shown his face yet, that meant no announcement had been made.
Why would Charlotte’s father not show his face at her party?
Eleanor kept her head down and walked on until she could sneak past the servants and break away undetected.
Hurrying to the first door she found, she shut herself inside and pressed her forehead to the smooth wood, trying to catch her breath.
I have escaped the convent.
The realization hit her hard enough to make her move. If she stopped too long, she would lose her nerve. She needed to find Charlotte, to properly figure out a plan.
As she turned to face the room, she was met with the sight of tall bookshelves.
She gravitated toward the nearest shelf. It had been so long since she had read a non-religious text.
She reached out her hand to a book when a harsh voice rang out, making her freeze. “Who are you?”
Eleanor jerked her head around to see a man rising from an armchair.
“What are you doing in here?”
“I—” Her throat went dry as she took in his tall frame, his hair catching the low light of the candles scattered around the library.
She swallowed, her eyes running over his autumnal, russet brown strands. As if, like the estate, he had come from the maple trees. His handsome face caught her off guard, and she fought to find her voice.
She lifted her chin, remembering exactly who she was. The convent had broken her, but they had notstolenher.
“I am a guest of Lady Charlotte’s,” she declared haughtily, eyeing the man who had clearly snuck out of the party. Her heart pounded in her chest as she silently prayed he would buy it. “I am th-the Countess of-of Maplewood.”
She chided herself inwardly for stammering.
