Page 60 of The Duke's Forbidden Bride
Lady Quinley is always so stern-faced. She never smiles. Never gives away her feelings.
She recalled the remarks she had always heard from other matrons who tutted or envied her mother’s composure. So she slid behind that cool, stoic mask and waded deeper into the room.
Spencer’s gaze swept across their surroundings.
“Who are you looking for?” she asked. “Lord Avington? You promised him a meeting, after all.”
Spencer didn’t even spare her a glance. “No. He has business to attend to tonight. I am merely watching for anyone who stares at us for too long.” His voice lowered. “Our…targetsdo not seem to be in attendance, but I do not doubt that somebody will be reporting to one or both of them. I need to know who lingers too conveniently, who watches too quietly. I urge you not to do the same, so we do not rouse suspicion.”
Eleanor nodded, letting him guide her to their seats. They were in the front row, directly facing the array of instruments that had been set up for the performers.
Notably, Lady Salisbury had not come to speak with her regarding the line-up. No, the Marchioness was further across the room, glancing in her direction now and then before turning back to her friends.
Eleanor’s heart sank a little. She had not expected to make friends quickly, although losing that ability after years away from London was not easy to come to terms with.
Shifting, she turned her focus to the empty stage. Their seats were pressed close, and she felt the back of Spencer’s hand brush her own. She held her breath, wondering if he would take her hand. He did not, and she pulled away.
Still, her heart rate quickened, her thoughts wandering to their kiss. And that was where they stayed, even when Lady Salisbury introduced the first performer of the night—a young debutante who sat down at a Celtic harp.
During the first song, Eleanor was able to tune out any whispers. Everybody gossiped. Everybody commented on what they heard or watched. That was normal.
However, during the third performance—a stunning, original piece played on a flute that made her heart swell—she realized her name was being whispered.
“It seems the Duke and Duchess of Everdawn have little appetite for public appearances,” one lady said to her companion, her voice low enough that it was clear she was not gossiping for attention but for her own pleasure.
Eleanor tried not to look back.
“It is not surprising, given His Grace’s long absence. Only returning for his sister’s debut…”
“Not to mention Lady Eleanor’s… absence from Society.”
“Is it true that she was caught with a stablehand?”
Another lady whispered, “I heard she was merely visiting an aunt in the Caribbean.”
“An aunt?” the first lady scoffed. “I’m not certain whether Lord or Lady Quinley have relatives outside of London—except for the countryside, that is.”
“But the Caribbean is where the Duke is rumored to have met Lady Eleanor.”
I am right here, Eleanor wanted to shout.Have some shame.
“It is the story being spread, indeed,” the first lady muttered, clearly enjoying her control over the conversation. “But I do not believe it. They are said to be very smitten with each other, butlook at them. They look as though they have a wall between them.”
“I think it is a stiff spine.” Her friend tutted. “They think they are too good to mingle with us.”
No, Eleanor wanted to protest.
The sad truth was that she desperately wished she could make new friends, but she was terrified. Anybody could be in the pocket of Lord Belgrave.
“Regardless, I do not think there is an amorous bone in His Grace’s body, and Her Grace likely does not know what she has chained herself to. Whatever seduction may have taken place during their brief courtship—wherever it began—has all but disappeared, by the looks of things. One would not even know they are married. One might even question it in the first place.”
Although the woman’s voice was low, Eleanor’s face burned as she forced her gaze to remain fixed on the flutist, wondering who else may have overheard.
When Spencer moved his hand closer to hers, she couldn’t return the gesture, too ashamed and upset.
As the evening progressed, her resolve hardened once more, and by the time they got into their carriage to return to Everdawn House, she had made up her mind.
Her eyes were fixed on the passing scenery as she said, “We must play the lovestruck couple at the next event.” Her voice sounded detached even to her own ears.
