Page 10 of Her Duke in Shining Armor
With her head down as she fixed the objects on the tray, the maid replied, “This morning, my lady. Mr. Ambrose received it.”
Placing the card down, she received her tea with a soft smile. “Thank you. In half an hour, please fill my tub.”
Lisa curtsied, “Of course, my lady.”
Alone with her tea and thoughts, Eleanor wondered how she was going to play this. Though she had little interest in seeing him, a gentleman caller would stave off her father’s ire for a while. After finishing her tea, she went to her escritoire and fished one of her rarely-used calling cards out of her drawer and wrote a reply to the lord.
With her pen dangling from her fingers, her mind ran right back to Duke Oberton’s dratted card. What was it about him that irked her so? Usually, when anyone showed her disdain, she ignored it with no trouble but the Duke’s very presence annoyed her.
“Ugh,” she huffed in frustration and chucked the book away so hard it clattered to the floor. “I cannot suffer him.”
“My lady?” a small, timid voice cut through her thoughts and she found little Maria looking at her with soft fear on her face. Instantly, she felt contrite.
“Oh, Maria,” she sighed. “Forgive me for scaring you.”
The child’s smile was tempered, “I can come back if you are not ready for me.”
“No, no,” Eleanor said. “It’s alright. What do you need to do?”
“I’m here to dust, my lady,” Maria said while lifting her bucket of cleaning cloths. “I’ll be as quiet as can be.”
“It’s fine Maria,” Eleanor replied while plucking the book from the floor. “You won’t bother me.”
What did and what continued to bother her during the morning was the dratted Duke and his mysterious card. If she had known that this was the level of confusion it was going to give her, she would have found a moment to chuck the damned thing back into his face.
Now, wandering through the library, she was briefly interrupted by a maid who conferred to her that Lord Greenville had arrived and was in the sitting room and that Miss Malcolm was also present.
That was rather fast, does he have a phaeton or does he have a house nearby?
She replaced the book she had nearly taken out and nodded, “I’ll be there in a moment.”
The trails of her dark blue dress whispered on the Aubusson rug as she turned away. With her hand on the smooth railing of the staircase, she descended the graceful curve and stepped down the lushly-carpeted hallway.
“Lord Greenville,” a footman announced. “Lady Eleanor has arrived.”
The man stood from the chaise and bowed. “My Lady, good afternoon. It is wonderful to see you.”
“And you, Lord Greenville,” Eleanor replied while acutely aware of Miss Malcolm's presence. “I must again apologize for the Duke of Oberton’s interruption last night.”
“It’s alright, My Lady,” Lord Greenville’s suit of complimentary dark blue coat and light waistcoat matched with his pale cerulean eyes. “I am not offended. I gathered there was a history between you, am I right?”
“I wouldn’t say a history,” Eleanor refrained from scowling at the memory of the Duke and his rudeness. “But we had met in the past. How are you?”
“Fairly well,” he replied.
Sometime during their light conversation, where Eleanor learned of his love of politics, horses, and philosophy, a tray of refreshments was brought in. Eleanor idly mentioned her recent reading on the topic of naturalism and his eyes lit up.
“I too find such philosophies fascinating. I did not know you were interested in such topics, my lady,” he enthused. “It is not a subject many women find appealing.”
“Many women bury themselves in the never-ending scandal sheets,” Eleanor replied while setting her cup down. “I do not have the time or interest in such trivialities.”
“I would love to find out what else you find fascinating,” Greenville replied as he had one eye on the corner clock. “On another visit perhaps?”
Eleanor found his subtle fishing for another audience charming but was not sure if she would give him one. “I cannot say for sure, my lord but I will write to convey a time when I am available.”
It was not a direct refusal but it was not an acceptance either and both knew it.
“Well,” he stood and bowed. “I must take my leave, my lady. I do look forward to your correspondence.”
