Page 25 of A Scandalous Love for the Enticing Duke
“He is my father, Mother. In every sense of the word. You would have got no complaints from me. None, whatsoever. However, what is done is done. I forgive you both.” She looked up at him, and he offered her a small smile before returning his attention to his father.
“Thank you, Nicholas. If there is anything I thank the Virgin for, it is the fact that she made it possible for me to raise you right. I truly am proud of the man you have become. It is my greatest achievement.”
“Like I always saw Father, it was easy to become this man, while looking up to a man like you. What does M Wimpletton have to say?”
The smiles that they just exchanged were gone immediately as weariness replaced them.
“The diagnosis which has only recently been made is not good. He says by all counts it looks like cancer. A very terrible disease. An extensive study is yet to be carried out on it, and there are definite causes of treatment yet. Therefore, the prognosis is not quite sunny either. Nevertheless, Wimpletton is positive that he may just be able to crack this.”
“Do you trust him?”
“With my life.”
“How much money will we need?”
“Nothing that we do not have in excess. All is being taken care of, Son. Worry not about this. If I live or die, the Lord already knows. All I want, is to live these last days in happiness, to see you married and settled down as a man of your age should be.”
Nicholas heaved a deep sigh then, aware that there was truly no way out of this. How? How could he refuse a dying man’s wishes? How would he find the courage to do this wickedness? He was doomed. His love for Eleanor would never be allowed to blossom. Regardless, right now, his father’s happiness mattered more to him. This man had sacrificed so much for him. Surely, he could do the same.
“I know you have your reservations, but Agnes is a wonderful young lady. There shall be no regrets, whatsoever. You will see. Just give it a chance, Nicholas. I am afraid I do not have that much time to let you begin a search, all over again.”
His father’s words sunk deep into his soul, leaving a hole, an indelible mark. Left with no choice, he heard himself say.
“I will.”
Chapter 17
Three days after the ball and that terrible mistake of kissing Nicholas – or more accurately, letting him kiss her, Eleanor decided it was finally time to forgive herself and halt her isolation. So, she called the maids in and had them dress her up in a suitable day dress. If she got too bored, she would take a walk into the garden and perch on a seat as she read more books. Never mind the sun, her parasol would come in handy.
As she reached the doors of the drawing room where she knew her sisters were, she readied herself to come face to face with Agnes. She was a terrible person, she knew this. Facing Agnes since that kiss had been torture. Every time her sister looked at her, she feared she would see right through her facade, her lies, to her betrayal. Bloody hell! Why had she let Nicholas kiss her? So powerfully, so wonderfully, eroding her senses, making her want more taste of the forbidden fruit that was her sister’s husband to be.
Stop it! she chided. She was doing it again, reminiscing her first kiss. Revelling in the strange but wonderful sensations it had made her feel. She could not deny that she had enjoyed every bit of it. Every meeting of tongues, every nibble. The throbbing she had felt in her secret parts. The parts that saw no sunlight.
When he had started to taunt her that night, at first, she had been too angry to find a suitable retort. Then he stepped closer, and she lost her ability to speak, overwhelmed by his nearness. When he lifted her face and began to lower his head, she had known what was coming. The fact that she was inexperienced did not mean she had no knowledge of how these things happen. She was no naiveté; the novels she read made certain of that. Still, when he had tugged her face upwards, and she looked into those hooded thunderclouds, there was nothing she could do, nothing she could say. She had felt paralysed, until his lips captured hers.
At once, like the swelling tides, she was carried away into bouts of waves. At first, she flailed, then she got a hang of it and began to ride. As she did, her excitement grew, and she hungered for more...more what, she did not know.
Thank goodness for the rude awakening. If her senses had not returned when he handled her arse, she feared so much more would have happened in the library that night. Then, she would have packed a light luggage and run away, for never again would she have been able to look at Agnes, ever.
Shaking her head as if that would rid her of her shameful thoughts, she entered the drawing room. Her sisters were seated, and so was her mother. They were all busy with needlework but looked up upon her presence.
“Ah. She finally steps foot out of her chambers. I was starting to think we would have to send a legion to get you out.”
“A bright morning to you too, Mother. I do hope you had a good rest last night,” came her obtrusive reply. She was in no mood to serve as amusement for her mother, never had been, never would be.
“Eleanor Mary Birmingham. Are you trying to insinuate something?”
Oh. The full name. She battled with her eyes which instinctively wanted to roll themselves. That would only get her into more trouble. She simply should have kept her mouth shut.
“Not at all, Mother. I was only offering polite talk. Pleasantries, if you would. I for one, had a night that could have gone better. Howbeit, I am hopeful that this morning will be better off. A little peace and quiet would be received with utmost gratitude.”
She heard her sisters snicker, and she resisted the urge to smile, especially when her mother looked so taken aback. She never really dared to talk to her mother this way. Agnes was the outspoken one. And Isabelle? She was what one would call eccentric. She scarcely ever got put off by anything, but once she did, she never hesitated to air her mind. She? She was the quiet girl who wanted to be at peace with everyone. That morning was an exception. Her emotions were all over the place, and she would rather be left alone. Yet, feeling that she had taken it too far, she sighed.
“I apologise, Mother. As I said, I did not get a good sleep.”
She heard her mother click her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she returned to her sewing.
“You would have if you showed your face in public more often. For the life of me, I cannot fathom how I came about you three. One is outrightly hard-headed, the other is simply outrageous and impossible, and the last is a recluse. I have lived a good life. I wonder why someone has it bad for me.”
