Page 23 of Her Duke in Shining Armor
Eleanor found herself suddenly empathetic, “If I won’t bring up any bad memories, may I ask what happened?”
“I lost the first love of my life,” Lady Darcy said to Eleanor’s shock. “At eight-and-ten I fancied a young man who was the second son of a Baron, but I never told him. When war broke in France, he was sent to Spain to fight with the Duke of Wellington. He died two months later from infection.”
By that math, starting at nine-and-ten, and that the battle in Spain had been in 1814, Lady Darcy was now three-and-twenty. Eleanor’s heart pained her when she thought of what the lovely lady must have felt at the time.
“I am so sorry,” Eleanor’s voice had dropped to a hush.
“It’s alright,” she smiled. “I only found love two-and-half years ago with Mr. Wilcox, two years after my first love died. My love is a captain in the River Thames police and is almost at the Superintendent station. I love Julius with all my heart. I just want to let you know there is nothing but friendship between me and Duke Oberton.”
“You nearly called him by his Christian name…Aaron.” Eleanor said, “I suppose you are close.”
“He is like a brother to me,” Lady Darcy said as her lips twisted. “Though he can be cork-brained sometimes.”
A laugh escaped Eleanor before she knew it. “You don’t say.”
“I dare do,” Lady Darcy smiled and reached over, “Let me tell you one hair-brained plot he and Julius concocted. They were schoolmates at Eton by the way….”
The next hour-and-a-half flew by with Eleanor learning another side of the Duke of Oberton that she hadn’t thought existed. Apparently, Oberton, or Aaron as she was beginning to privately call him, had a sense of humor, owned two wolfhounds that were dear to him, had a soft spot for sweet buns and was an avid rider.
When Lady Darcy announced that she had to leave, Eleanor was saddened. She had found a friend in the older woman—one she had not expected to gain. Darcy was digging into her reticule and produced a card which she pressed into Eleanor’s hand, “Here is my direction, come see me whenever you would like.”
“No card first?”
“For you, posh on cards,” Lady Darcy snorted. “Goodbye, for now, Lady Eleanor.”
“Eleanor,” the younger woman smiled, “Just Eleanor.”
“And I am just Darcy. And don’t show me out, I’ll be fine. By the way, I have it on good authority that His Grace is going to be at Wombwell’s Travelling Menagerie tomorrow at St. James’s Park.” Her new friend mirrored her smile.
“How do you know this?”
“Because I am dragging him there.” With a wave, she was gone, and Eleanor sank slowly back to her chair only to look at the card.
She softly placed it beside the now warm jug of lemonade. Had she been wrong about the Duke all this time? She still doubted that he fancied her but besides that, what else had she misjudged him about?
Calling for a maid to remove the tray she took the card, stood and went back to the pianoforte. This time her fingers moved idly, and a soft melody was in the air. She stayed in the room playing until the tweeny bumbled in to douse the light.
“Sorry, My Lady,” she stuttered but Eleanor did not censure her.
“Please, do your duty,” she said. “It about time I went off to bed anyway.”
Closing the lid of the instrument, Eleanor went off to her room and prepared herself for the next day. Her thoughts were still troubled.
“Rescue me…from what?”
“Yourself.”
What part of myself do I need to be rescued from?
* * *
St. James’s Park
The first thing that hit Aaron as he, Lady Darcy, and her chaperone entered the section of the park where the menagerie stood was the smell. The place had a history of sporting exotic animals and though he had been around horses all his life and had grown used to the smell of animal flesh, the smell there was deeply saturated.
His eyes were bombarded by colorful feathers, strange furs, and strange faces of the animals that dominated wide pens. His eyes were instantly drawn to the zebras and he made to move over to them but Lady Darcy’s eyes pinned him where he stood.
“No,” she said. “If you go over to those gilded beasts of burden you’ll never move.”
