Page 29 of Her Duke in Shining Armor
“How unkind of you,” his voice had dipped. “Where is your Christian nature madam?”
Suddenly the energy between them changed paths. Eleanor’s senses were suddenly overtaken by him, he was too close, his cologne was in her nose, and she found her eyes on his mouth. The tension was a snapping point and it soon shattered in half.
“Do not kiss me,” the words escaped her before reason could stop them.
The Duke’s eyebrows reached his hairline, “Pardon me?”
The words she had said finally connected with her mind and even though panic had bolted up her spine and fear had cramped her chest in a prison of ice she managed to say, “I said, do not hiss at me.”
Spinning around on shaky knees Eleanor said over her shoulder, “Good day, Your Grace. Miss Malcolm, we are leaving.”
* * *
Aaron felt glued to his square foot of marble floor. Had Lady Eleanor really uttered those words,do not kiss me?Was that it? Was that what all this tension had been about? Was she holding in romantic feelings for him and using anger, irritation, and contempt to mask it or was it a mix of all and she did not know to separate them?
If what he had heard a while ago was true, it was clear that he had been looking at only one side of the faceted gemstone that was Lady Eleanor of Brisdane. Could it be that Lady Eleanor truly was as many sided as he was told she was?
Moving from the dais, he nodded to the attendant and left the museum. He had better sense than to seek out Lady Darcy as he knew she and Eleanor had come together and it would be painfully awkward to stand in her presence and act as if nothing had happened.
But something had.
When Lady Darcy had approached him with this scheme, he had hoped that his plan to lure Eleanor into the one thing she could not refuse—a debate—would work. But somehow his intention had turned itself on its head and now…now he was sure that he could get to Lady Eleanor.
His assumption that she did not know how true men acted was the catalyst of her refusing them all was spot on. He had seen fear in her features just seconds after she had uttered her unconscious slip. It was like the fear of one venturing into a dark labyrinthor wading into deep waters.
For all her prodigious intelligence which should prod her to be curious and seek out what she did not know, Lady Eleanor was scared. Did she even know what a kiss felt like? Did she know what a caring touch, a kind embrace or a loving gaze was?
I said I would teach her...didn’t I?
If he had to get through to Lady Eleanor, the only person he could count on to help him was Lady Darcy. His friend’s fiancée was the one who Lady Eleanor trusted, that was, until she got comfortable around him and he could break down those iron-bolstered shields she had around her.
Who was she underneath all those layers? Was she a sweet girl just aching for love or was she truly the hardened persona she let the world see every day? What would he discover?
Chapter 8
Thick dark blue drapes pooled to the floor in her room and Eleanor had not moved her eyes from them in the last fifteen minutes. They had not been opened to let the life-giving sunlight into her room for the last two days and nor had she left her room in the same stretch of time.
Eleanor knew she was not hiding from the world at large but rather from herself. How could she have uttered those words,do not kiss me,to the one man that confused her in a hundred ways.
When she had unthinkingly uttered the phrase Eleanor knew that she had seen his repulsion or had it been shock? Curiosity perhaps? Whatever it was she knew she had not endeared herself to Oberton in the least. He was probably laughing at her right now and that irked her.
She had realized that Lady Darcy was fully in his pocket and that she found herself in a sad situation. She had begun to value having Lady Darcy in her life as a friend she could count on but if Darcy was the price she had to pay to avoid Oberton, she would pay it with a heavy heart.
“Do you want yer tea now, My Lady?” Maria’s soft voice asked.
“Yes,” Eleanor replied while moving away from the shuttered windows. “Thank you.”
She was living in torment. It was a mercy that her father was still away in Brisdane because if he had been there to see her out of sorts, she knew he would never let it die until she told him. That would be catastrophic by itself as her father would have misconstrued it all and thought Oberton was to blame.
The reality was that her head was a miasma of fog when it came to the youngest duke in England and it pained her when she could not pierce the gloom with the beacon of rational thought.
What did she really feel about Oberton?
While taking her tea from Maria, Eleanor sipped the perfectly-sweetened brew and tried to think. Once again, her head was full of white fuzz. Oberton was once again eclipsing her thoughts. But what was she supposed to do? Languish in limbo until she went crazy?
“Maria, please ask the kitchen staff to heat my bath water,” Eleanor ordered. “I have a few visits to make this morning.”
“Yes, My Lady,” the child said before she went scampering off.
