Page 64 of The Duke's Forbidden Bride
Eleanor sought out Lord Avington, so near to her parents that she had to look past them. She could not help her thoughts, not while they raced as dinner was served and eaten.
So many things were tangled. Charlotte’s whereabouts, Lord Belgrave and his spies across London, her parents and their ignorance, Spencer and his confusing ways.
Spencer was wrong.
Therewasa wall between them, buthewas the one who hadput up by shutting her out. And investigating business matters was not the only way Eleanor could get involved.
She met her mother’s eyes across the dining table and discreetly nodded toward the hallway, indicating that she needed a word.
Fearing being ignored, Eleanor kept her hopes low. But to her surprise, her mother nodded. A hand on her arm stopped her as she made to stand up once her plate was empty.
“I do not think that is a good idea,” Spencer warned her quietly.
“I have to speak with her while I am here,” she insisted. “I will not change my mind.”
Spencer hesitated long enough for her to meet his eyes. He gave a reluctant nod. “Then I will give you the privacy you need to speak with her, but I will be right here if you need me.”
His defense of her when they had last been at Quinley Manor proved that he would be there for her.
Duty. Protection. Safety.
That was what Spencer had promised. He had not rescued her from the convent because he cared for her. No, he had rescued her to stop the nuns from harming her. He could have done that for anyone.
Eleanor pushed away her confusing feelings and went to meet with her mother in the hallway. She thought she would be more nervous, even more angry, as she faced her for the first time since her wedding.
“Mother,” she greeted stiffly.
“Eleanor.” Her mother’s face was tight in a way she had not noticed the last time she’d seen her. “I do hope you are not causing problems for His Grace.”
Eleanor scoffed, glancing away and then back at her. “Your first assumption about me is negative. Of course. Do you not care to enquire about my well-being?” Her resentment rose, seeping into her tone.
Her mother schooled her features into icy politeness as she smiled tightly. “How are you, Eleanor?”
Eleanor’s heart gave a painful lurch.
Who was this woman? She could not be her mother.
Once upon a time, they had gotten along so well. Her mother had guided her well through her debut, and before that, she had encouraged her without tearing her down.
Her parents had always held her to high standards, as she was their only child, but she had never felt like a disappointment or a burden.
Not until they had sent her away.
“I am well,” she answered. “My life is… very agreeable. You must be proud that your only child has become the Duchess of Everdawn.”
“My only child carries the shame of her scandal from three years ago,” her mother snapped, before composing herself. “You might have a new title, but the scandal will always be a shadow over your head.”
Eleanor’s eyes narrowed. She tensed up when she heard footsteps in the hallway. Her father emerged from the dining room, his cheeks flushed with the brandy he had been nursing along with some business acquaintances.
She regarded them both, not bothering to give her father a chance to greet her. Or to not greet her. Her mother had shown enough reluctance.
Instead, she confronted them both. “You never asked for my side of the story. Of what truly happened that night.”
“We did not need to,” her father said gruffly. “What other story is there? You were—you were shamed and caught by your own doing. It takes dignity to speak of it now, so do not?—”
“Why did you send me there?” Eleanor asked, barely managing not to wince at his jab. “To St. Euphemia’s. We do have relatives abroad, do we not?”
“Yes,” her mother said smoothly. “Your father’s cousin lives in the Caribbean with his widowed mother.”
