Page 32 of Her Duke in Shining Armor
With Darcy gone, how could he push through? Lady Eleanor was right when she had said they do not run in the same circles.
“Thank God,” Aaron murmured. “My circle is a bunch of imbeciles, she would eat them for breakfast.”
They neared the townhouse and as the driver had taken a circuitous route, he passed the entranceway to the Stanley’s house. In the distance, he could easily see the gas lights blinking from the shadowed house. The carriage rumbled off and soon he could barely spot the house between the thick foliage.
Settling back, Aaron debated on calling on Eleanor the next day and decided it was a bit too soon. A blunt approach was not wise but a deceptive one was near suicidal. How could he speak to her?
The carriage got to his gate and the footman stationed at the door hurried over to open the door. Greeting him with thanks, Aaron bade the driver goodnight. Entering the foyer, he could feel the soft heat from the hearth with relief and he tugged his coat off.
He visualized his bed but knew that he could not settle in so early. A smooth drink might do the trick though. “Send a bottle of sherry to my study.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Aaron entered the shadowed study, where only the embers in the grate gave some pinpoints of light. Not bothering to call anyone, he knelt down and stoked the fire into life. Opening the windows, he tiredly tugged his strangling necktie off, dropped it on the desk and sank into the chair to think.
A footman entered with the bottle of wine and had barely set it down when he heard a loud squeal of carriage wheels from the window. Alarmed he shot up and ran to the window to see the door push open and a frame he would know anywhere dart out. Lady Darcy.
He spun and rushed out of the room with his mind churning a rushing river. What was happing to make her come to him so late? He had reached the foyer when a hysterical Lady Darcy ran inside. Her dress was askew, her hair unpinned and pure devastation was on her bloodless face.
“Lady Darcy!” Aaron rushed out to grab her. The lady was nearly falling over and tears were running down her face. An ominous cold settled in his stomach, “What is wrong? Tell me, please.”
“Ju-Julius,” she cried while grabbing on his shirt. “He got shot, Aaron, he got shot!”
Chapter 9
It was nearing midnight but Eleanor had not had a wink of sleep and with the tumultuous thought running through her mind. The question she had asked earlier that day had carried answers she had been prepared for but the words still stung.
“Do you think I am the problem?”
Her words visibly stunned the two and Lady Darcy’s wide eyes looked lost while they darted between Eleanor and Miss Malcolm. To ease her discomfort, Eleanor turned to her chaperone, “Miss Malcolm, I need both of you to tell me the truth. Do you think I am too hard on Oberton?”
Silence had sunk the mood of the carriage to awkward depths and Eleanor just knew what they were going to say. “It is me…right? I am the problem.”
The lady and the chaperone shared a telling look that made the hollow sensation in Eleanor’s stomach sink deeper. “Tell me, I can handle the truth.”
Of course, like any rebuff, the soothing platitudes came first.
“Eleanor…I understand that he hurt you a long time ago and such pain cannot be forgotten…but, though you accepted his apology…have you truly?”
“My Lady, forgive me for being too bold but it would do you some good to not dismiss people so early. I am sure His Grace has seen his error and is trying to mend your relationship.”
“Please,” she had replied. “Just say it bluntly. Am I the problem here with Oberton?”
“Both of you are,” Lady Darcy said. “But back to my first remark, have you really accepted his apology?”
“No…” she said to the dark. “I haven’t, not fully, but why? What am I expecting from him that he had not offered already?”
Was there a grand gesture she was hoping for him to do? Was she looking for him to appear on a white horse clad in shining armor to save her from herself as his dream form had stated? Was she expecting him to summon the moon and hand her the stars beside it to compound his apology? Was she expecting him to defend her against the hatred of the ton that she had brought upon herself?
“Now, I am being absurd,” she rolled her eyes and huffed slightly. “Why would he do any of that? Burkesaid it best I suppose, ‘The age of chivalry is gone…that of sophisters, economists, and calculators has succeeded; and the glory of Europe is extinguished forever.’He would probably join in with the mockers.”
It was the only logical answer to the heat in his eyes when he met her…wasn’t it? Eventually, she drifted off but blinked awake at the early hours of the morning. For once, her sleep had been deep and no troubling dreams had plagued her mind.
Sitting up, she massaged the sleep from her eyes and wondered if going back to bed was an option. She was not needed anywhere and cook could always make her a late breakfast. Just as she was contemplating it, someone knocked on her door and she idly gave the permission to enter.
Lisa entered and curtsied, “My Lady, I apologize for troubling you but His Grace, the Duke of Oberton, is downstairs. He is requesting your presence.”
Oberton? What was he doing there?
