Page 45 of The Curious Life of the Unfortunate Duchess
Leonard’s laugh boomed out through the room and reverberated to meet her ears.
“I am a patient man, Miss Elizabeth,” he told her but Elizabeth did not believe it. In that moment, all she knew for certain was the way her name spilled out of his mouth and into her ears causing her body to erupt into a rush of shivers.
“I asked Beatrice to run you a bath,” he told her. “It should be ready for you in your chambers.” He extended his arm for her to take and she accepted it without pause. Once more, Elizabeth was struck by his romantic and kind heart. She had made no more indication that she would care for a bath, than Frances had asked for cheese. Yet the Duke had inherently sensed their desires and arranged for them to occur. Elizabeth did not have much experience in the way of romance but she knew that not many men, particularly of the noble variety, would act in such a fashion. There was a grand difference between hosting and chivalry. There was no doubt in Elizabeth’s mind that she had found a truly chivalrous gentleman.
And she intended to keep him.
Chapter 15
Whatever unrest had commenced at the beginning of the holiday quietly dissipated into the thinning late summer air. To Leonard, the only factor left hanging over the otherwise happy household was David, who continued to scrutinize Leonard with distrust and wariness.
“I do not think your brother cares for me,” Leonard told Elizabeth as they sprawled out at a picnic one afternoon, ten days after their arrival. “I have attempted to speak with him but he acts sullenly and saunters away.”
Elizabeth frowned and squinted at him across the gingham checked blanket, the sunlight streaming into her eyes so that they resembled hot yellow embers.
“I will have a word with him,” she promised. “Although it is uncommon for him to behave rudely to a host.”
“I do not believe he views me as a host. I believe he sees me as a man who is taking his sister from him.”
“That is nonsense! David should be happy to have someone whom he can regard as a brother figure.”
A small grin appeared on Leonard’s face and he dropped onto his elbow to stare at her on the level which she lay.
“A brother? Would that not take, say, marriage for such a feat to occur?”
“Leonard!” she chided, her cheeks tinging the becoming pink he had come to love so well. Although he was only jesting with her, he did enjoy to see the way her face colored with his jokes.
It was difficult to say when they had fallen into such perfect ease with one another. Leonard had forsaken the guise of hunting with the men now that his intentions were made abundantly clear—his desire was to be with Elizabeth, nothing more. That did not mean he did not embark on excursions with the Viscount and his son but most of his free hours were spent in the company of his lovely dark-haired guest. There was still work to be done in the duchy but if he was not poring over ledgers and visiting parliament, he found himself engaged in various activities with Elizabeth.
They went for long walks along Cedar Creek and through the maze of woods surrounding Brookside. Elizabeth’s endless excitement at the barrage of flora and fauna tickled him, her childlike wonder reminiscent of her sister. It only furthered his belief that the Follett sisters were touched by something otherworldly.
Herbert, certainly, agreed with him and Leonard had never seen the barrister so happy. Sometimes Frances and Herbert would join the Duke and Elizabeth for picnics or to trips to town but mostly, Leonard wished to harbor Elizabeth’s company for himself and said so without shame.
That day, they had just finished a light meal of cheese, bread, kippers and cold meats. The wine had affected Leonard in precisely the proper way and he relished the way the light fell across the sleek line of Elizabeth’s face, shadowing her profile in a most alluring way.
“I wish I were an artist,” he murmured. “I would paint you precisely as you are now and I would have this memory of you forever.”
“You are quite the poet with that silver tongue of yours,” she replied, laughing. “Perhaps you can paint a picture with words.”
“Do you care for me?” he asked suddenly and her smile did not falter.
“Perhaps.”
“Perhaps? My God, I have been chasing you about on a ‘perhaps’? Have I been wasting my time?” he asked with mock hurt, placing his hand over his heart in a most dramatic fashion.
“I do not know another man who would demand a proclamation of adoration inside a fortnight,” she replied, unfazed by his melodrama. “If I were you, Leonard, I would not want a woman who made such professions, either.”
Leonard laughed again, her wit astounding him. While he could not stop himself from japing at Elizabeth, he also knew that the feelings he was nurturing toward her were strong and growing more intense daily.
It may not be love yet but we shall get there.
Their eyes met and they shared a private smile. Leonard did not need to hear the words. Her eyes spoke volumes of her feelings. He would not demand any more of her than she was willing to give.
“I am a patient man,” he sighed and her giggles filled his ears as he had known it would. It was something he said often and her response was always the same.
“A patient man would not ask me to declare my admiration twice a day.”
“A patient man would!” he protested. “A patient man would need to be sure you had not forgotten to tell him!”
