Page 44 of The Iron Duke's Flaming Christmas
“I did hear rumors that Eaton was infatuated with Mary,” replied Thomas slowly, looking pained. “But I never heard that his feelings were reciprocated. Mary only ever had eyes for you, Trenton. If that man is telling you anything different, do not believe him.”
Ian gave a sardonic laugh. “I do not believe that Mary ever loved him. We never kept secrets from one another. She would have told me.”
Thomas shook his head. “Eaton is like the bad penny turning up,” he stated. “I heard a rumor that the only reason he is back in the district after so long is that his funds have finally run dry. He will probably be here long enough to squeeze moremoney out of his poor invalid father before taking off again. Do not worry about him, Trenton. He will be gone soon enough.”
Ian nodded, trying to push the unpleasantness away. But it lingered, like a bad smell. The guilt about Mary was gnawing at him now.
“Miss Bomind looked lovely at the party,” said Thomas, smiling at him. “And she sang beautifully, as well. She looked a vision in that gown.”
“I should never have given it to her to wear,” growled Ian, a stab of pure pain knifing his heart. “It was Mary’s gown. I do not know what I was thinking.”
Thomas frowned. “It was sitting in a trunk in your attic for nine years, man. Mary would not care one way or the other…”
Abruptly, Ian turned away, staring at Eaton again. The gentleman was talking to Lady Gwen, now. In fact, they were whispering together in a corner.
If he thinks he is getting back at me by sidling up to the lady to steal her away from me, he had better think again. Those two deserve one another.
He drained his glass, taking another from the tray of a passing footman. He had been dreaming about Selene;hungering for her with a passion that had overwhelmed him. But now, he really knew that he must let her go, once and for all.
She wasn’t Mary. She could never be Mary. And he must wear this guilt for the rest of his life.
Chapter 23
Selene held her breath as she rapped on the door to the duke’s study. Her heart in her mouth, she waited, clasping her hands behind her back to stop them trembling. She had received the summons from him only ten minutes ago and hadn’t had time to compose herself.
She heard a gruff voice on the other side of the door. “Enter.”
He was sitting behind his desk, his quill scratching against parchment, as he wrote. He didn’t look up as she entered the room.
“Your Grace,” she said, dropping into a low curtsy.
The duke finally deigned to raise his eyes, his penetrating gaze pinning her to the spot. She felt a shiver course through her body, from uncertainty as well as desire. He didn’t look pleased to see her at all, even though he had sent for her.
“Miss Bomind,” he drawled, his deep voice resonating in the study. “There you are at last.”
He is not calling me by my first name any longer.
A rush of sorrow swept over her. She swallowed hard, willing her voice not to quiver.
“Yes,” she breathed at last. “Here I am.” She cleared her throat. “What did you wish to discuss with me, Your Grace?”
Her heart quivered with longing for him, aching with need, but the intimacy they had experienced together appeared to have vanished entirely. She sensed the distance in him, the desire to keep her at arm’s length, to banish entirely the fact that he had made passionate love with her and been as close to her as it was possible for another person to be.
Was it the fact that she was the governess? Or that he truly was planning to marry Lady Gwen? Or was he just incapable of truly giving himself to anyone anymore?
I will probably never know the truth of it. And now, we are master and governess again, and it as if the love we made together never happened at all.
The duke’s eyebrows arched. “I would like a report on my daughter’s educational progress,” he barked. “You are the governess, after all. Are you capable of that, Miss Bomind?”
His words stung, but she steeled herself, looking straight at him.
“I am afraid that Lady Lenore has not been applying herself well,” she stated, meeting his eye. “There have been many interruptions and distractions when she has been working.” She paused. “Lady Gwen has been disturbing us in the library and dragging my lady away from her lessons for tea and cakes.”
The duke’s eyes narrowed, a flash of irritation crossing his stern features. He rose from the chair, his imposing figure casting a long shadow across the room. Selene fought the urge to take a step back as he approached, his tense presence overwhelming in the small space, even as she longed for him.
“And you allowed these distractions?” he questioned, his voice low and dangerous.
Selene’s heart raced, but she held her ground. “Your Grace, I have attempted to dissuade Lady Gwen from interrupting the lessons,” she replied. “But she will not listen to me. And I cannot refuse her when she wants to take Lady Lenore away. I would be overstepping my position entirely.”
