Page 82 of The Duke's Forbidden Bride
Once they were inside, his aunt began barking orders for towels to be retrieved. A stack was brought in, and a maid offered a thicker towel for Eleanor’s hair.
“You are soaked!” Katherine tutted. “Whatever has brought you down for such a spontaneous visit?”
Spencer was too busy gazing at Eleanor’s golden waves, the tan her skin still retained, the droplets trickling down her neck, and he was only interrupted by a clearing of a throat.
He realized he had not answered his aunt. But then another voice cut in.
“Well, I must say that you two seem far closer than when I last saw you.” Charlotte stood in the doorway to the parlor, a mischievous grin on her face. She moved closer, opening her arms wide to embrace Eleanor, not caring about her soaked dress. “Married life seems to be treating you well, Eleanor.”
At that, Eleanor flushed.
Spencer told himself it was the exertion of running to the cottage.
“Indeed. Your brother is the most attentive of husbands.”
“Heavens, are you certain it is him?” Katherine laughed.
Spencer scowled. “It is lovely to see both of you too,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “May we dry off before we return to London?”
“You are leaving so soon?” Charlotte asked, surprised. “Why have you come here, then?”
“To retrieve you,” he answered simply, careful not to mention a stalker. “Your…” He paused.
Mentioning Lord Follet’s name would be the easiest way to get his sister to leave without argument, but it would be the hardest to explain when he got her home and then stopped her from seeing him.
“Your brother misses you,” Eleanor chimed in.
Spencer was caught off-guard, andwary, for she had not proven to be the best liar in the world.
Charlotte’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, so Eleanor pressed on. “It was my suggestion to retrieve you. I miss you dearly—more than he does, perhaps.”
She gave a light laugh, knowing her friend would acknowledge that, but it only made Spencer feel guiltier.
“Indeed,” he agreed quickly.
“Well, you must not rush off so soon,” Katherine insisted. “I will have you both installed in the guest room, and you will stay the night.”
“Aunt Katherine, there is no need?—”
“Oh, I believe there is.” Her grin sharpened. “I barely see you, after all, and I have yet to properly meet your wife. Do not deprive your aunt of such indulgences.”
“I agree,” Charlotte piped up. “I do not want to travel in the storm. We will wait until tomorrow. In the meantime, you should change. Eleanor, I have a dress you can change into. Aunt Katherine, do you still have some of Uncle George’s clothes?”
Spencer scrunched up his face at the prospect of wearing his late uncle’s clothing. “I can make do,” he said quickly.
Charlotte laughed, and Eleanor looked between them, confused. “What is wrong with your uncle’s clothes?”
“They are colorful,” Charlotte sniggered. “So, of course, my oh-so-moody brother will not wear anything of the sort.”
“I have my tastes,” Spencer grumbled, relaxing now that he could see her laughing, not haunted the way he was,safein her ignorance. “There is no fault in that.”
“Come now.” Katherine ushered them out. “Dinner will be ready shortly. We will meet you in the dining room. Do not be late, Spencer.”
She fixed him with a long look that he pretended not to see as he guided Eleanor down the hallway.
The old cottage was a quaint thing, scarcely big enough for the notoriety his uncle had enjoyed as the late Viscount Montagu. But for his aunt, who preferred to live there full-time rather than in her townhouse, it was sufficient.
He knew it would be the safest place for Charlotte, which was why he had sent her here, even though his aunt had originally traveled from the Montagu estate for the wedding.
