Page 37 of The Duke's Reluctant Muse
“The letters that you wrote to my brother,” she continued, when he remained silent, “they were all responded to, as you know.”
“Yes, I do. They all held excellent advice.”
She closed her eyes, a tremor in her voice now. “The truth is, Nottingham, that my brother asked me to respond to some of his letters when he was severely unwell with his malady back at the estate. And when I read yours, I knew that I had to answer.”
It took Jonathan some minutes to understand what she meant – but when comprehension came, he snatched in a breath, staring back at her though Elizabeth did not lift her gaze to his. “You… you wrote to me on your brother’s behalf?” When she nodded, Jonathan released her hand from his grip, pushing his fingers through his hair as he let out a heavy breath.
“My brother knew what you had written, always,” she told him, her voice seeming to come from very far away as Jonathan tried to understand all that she was telling him. “He was always aware of it.”
“Then… then it was not only the first letter that you responded to?” he asked, as she shook her head. “You wrote back to me as your brother forallof them?”
“Yes.” A single tear dripped to her cheek. “My heart felt a great deal of sympathy for you, Nottingham. I wanted to help and since my brother was not able to do so at first – and thereafter, suggested I continue since I could give better suggestions than he – I did so.”
Jonathan did not know what to make of this. He felt his heart beating furiously, hearing blood roaring in his ears as he gazed down into Miss Jeffries’ eyes. Something like embarrassment began to creep over him, recalling just how candid he had been in his letters, how much she had known of him without his awareness.
His eyes closed. “Had I known, then I would never have written.”
“But I am glad that you did,” came the reply. “I wanted to do whatever I could to be of aid to you and I must hope that something I wrote was of aid.”
It was.
Jonathan shook his head. “I must think on this. I did not realise – not even for a moment – that it was not your brother. I...”
A knock on the door interrupted him and as he turned, Lady Annette opened the door directly and came in, leaving it open. She hurried to Elizabeth’s side, just as two ladies walked directly past the open door, with one peering inside.
“I think we should take our leave,” Lady Annette said, sounding most apologetic. “There are other guests beginning to come up this hallway.”
“Your Grace, if you wish to continue the conversation, then might I suggest that you speak with me alongside my brother?” Miss Jeffries looked up, holding his gaze and letting her fingers brush his, though Jonathan did not grasp at her hand, his brow furrowed. “Please, do not reject me.”
His shoulders dropped. “I could not do such a thing,” he told her, though his thoughts were still tumultuous. “But I will not speak on this any longer. You have said all that you wish to say, have you not?” When she nodded, her eyes filling with tears, Jonathan forced his gaze away, his heart aching now as though he was already regretting his stepping away from her. “I will come to call very soon.” Making his way from her side, without so much as a backwards glance, Jonathan walked to the door and stepped out into the hallway. As he left – now determined to quit the soiree entirely – he was sure he heard the sound of Elizabeth weeping.
Chapter Nineteen
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, Dennington. I have no wish to.”
“But you must.” Her brother came closer to her, taking her hands. “I am afraid to say, though I can understand your reluctance to step out into society at this present time, we have already accepted Lord Allington’s invitation and must, therefore, be present. It would be bad form not to stay there for even a short time.”
“I understand that but I do not think I can.” Elizabeth closed her eyes against the torrent of tears that threatened to be released. “The Duke has not written to me nor has he come to call and it was three days ago since I confessed the truth to him!”
Lord Dennington’s jaw tightened. “I know that things have not been pleasant for you in that regard, Elizabeth, and if you would have let me, then I might have gone to speak to him myself about it all! But you would not permit it.”
Elizabeth shook her head. Her brother, evidently seeing her distress over what had happened between the Duke and herself, had suggested that he go to explain his part and his thinking to the Duke of Nottingham but Elizabeth had not permitted him to do so. She had not wanted it, not when the Duke had said that he needed time to consider all that had been revealed to him. This, in addition to what she had told him of Lady Ludlow must have been a heavy weight upon his mind and Elizabeth had chosen not to push herself forward – nor to permit her brother to do the same.
“Please, Elizabeth.” Lowering his head just a little, Lord Dennington looked into her eyes. “You cannot simply stay at home and wait. You must step out into society again and, truth be told, we cannot refuse to attend this ball either. The Marquessof Allington is not a gentleman to be insulted and even though you have good reason to stay back from the evening, he will not see it in that light. Instead, he will be affronted and I cannot have him speak badly of you. It would set your standing in very poor light and surely you cannot want that!”
Closing her eyes, Elizabeth felt the pressure of tears against her lashes but she did not let them fall. Her brother was doing his level best to be of assistance to her, she knew, but he also brought a pressure to bear that she struggled hard against. She could understand why he was asking her to attend but the last thing she wanted to do was to be amongst thebeau monde.
“We will only stay for an hour,” she heard him say, finally finding the strength to open her eyes. “I promise you that. So long as Lord Allington sees our arrival, then all will be well.”
She did not really have a choice in the matter, Elizabeth realized. Her brother desired it and had every right to demand her attendance, if he so wished, though that was not what he was doing. With a small nod, her shoulders rounded and a fresh wave of tears began to crush her, though she did not permit a single drop of moisture to fall.
“Thank you, Elizabeth.” Her brother grasped her shoulders as she looked up at him. “I can see how painful this is for you and I assure you, I have not asked this of you without consideration.”
“I know.”
“And if the Duke does not write to you or call by tomorrow, then Iwillgo to see him,” he said, firmly. “You are in great torment and I cannot simply stand aside and see you suffer.”
Elizabeth tried to say that she did not need him to, had no desire for him to do such a thing but instead, all of the tears she had been holding back came bursting out. A hiccoughing sob broke through her defences and she began to cry, hard. Her brother held her tightly, murmuring soft encouragements andthough they were a balm to her, they did nothing to heal the pain in her heart.
