Page 69 of Her Duke in Shining Armor
‘Fiancé’ had slipped out his mouth before he had taken the three seconds to reconsider it, but now that it was out, he felt it was right. Eleanor was going to be his wife, come hell or high water. Now he was looking at her, trying to lend her some of his strength when the answer to her question came.
“Please,” the lady’s breaking voice was a bit steadier now. “Call me Sarah, and I hate to say this, My Lady, but your parents’ case is a troubling one. His Grace was never the one to show affection, but he did take care of your mother. He made sure she was provided for and safe but he never did anything to make her feel loved.”
Eleanor slowly sank to the floor and curled her legs around her. Aaron, after making sure the door was shut and bolted, followed suit. He reached out and took her hand, a gentle reminder that he was still there and that she could count on his strength if she needed it. Aaron knew that what they were about to hear would not be a light tale and braced himself for it.
“Your mother did not want to marry your father at first but her sire had ordered it and she was not one to disobey him,” Sarah said as she closed her thin shawl around herself. “The marriage was more of one of convenience, and certainly not a love match. They did present a unified front though, with your mother taking up the tasks and responsibilities of a Duchess. Soon enough, her generosity and care for the people she looked after gave her the name Saint Elizabeth. She was loved by all…except for your father.”
The lady’s eyes were pinned on his and Eleanor’s clasped hands and she smiled. “I cannot say if he ever felt anything for her except duty in the first couple years but just before you were born, he began to change. He’d carry flowers to her, treat her to singalongs, the theater, the opera. He took her to Bath one day and when she came back, she was glowing. That’s when things began to change.
“Lady Elizabeth told me something about a business deal with her father going south and then there was an argument with him after. Your father became sullen, angry, hard to please and…yes, abusive. The first time he slapped her, she didn’t think much of it…that was until he broke her wrist. He would insult her, degrade her, call her names and…”
Eleanor leaned forward, her face showing her deep investment but her hand was trembling in fear, “What?”
Sarah’s face was a rigor of pain, “She started increasing again but he forced her to take a concoction to rid herself of the child. Your mother was in pain for many weeks. You were about seven years old.”
Aaron felt it strange, how could the lady begin increasing if her husband was abusing her? Had she found a lover? If not…Aaron gritted his teeth, there was only one gruesome conclusion and he prayed Eleanor would not press the issue. Sadly, he was mistaken.
“But how would she…” Eleanor began to say and then the light went off in her eyes. Her pained gasp sent heated stabs through his chest and Aaron had to pull her face into his neck as she trembled. Her fingers clutched at his shirt and her nails were able to scrape his skin even through the cloth.
“No…” her voice was small, nothing more than a pained whisper. “Please…no.”
Aaron felt the handle of the pistol strapped to his back under his coat and felt the burning need to empty a round of bullets in Brisdane. Not only for Eleanor’s pain but to avenge her mother.
“I am so sorry My Lady,” Sarah’s voice had gotten soft with sympathy. “I truly am sorry.”
It took a while for Eleanor to lift her head but she did and managed a watery smile at the older lady. “I know you are. That could not have been easy for you, holding in those memories for so long…but thank you for telling me.”
Aaron silently concurred. Having and keeping a secret as terrible that had to have eaten at her for years. Perhaps her stomach sickness was not only physical but having to swallow down the knowledge of such abuse day after day could have sickened her even more. This woman needed care and Aaron vowed to provide her with it.
Why…why did my mother give you the diary?Eleanor wanted to ask but did not have the strength. Too much information had battered her already.
“I think it time for us to leave,” Aaron suggested softly. “Someone must have realized your absence by now.”
Eleanor nodded, “That’s true.”
Taking her hand Aaron stood and gently lifted her up too. Sarah cleared her throat, “Thank you for bringing Maria to me. She told me all of what would have happened if you had not.”
“I’d do it all over again if I had to,” Eleanor said. Her voice was thick with pain. “I’ll see you soon.”
Aaron offered his farewells before unlatching the door and walking out. With a tight grip on her hand, Aaron cursed himself for not paying the carriage to stay. It might have cost him more but that was nothing compared to this. For a community like this, everyone clearly knew everyone and strangers stuck out like sore thumbs. He could feel eyes on them as they hurried down the walkway, stripping them bare and assessing them for gain.
The tight grip he had on her hand got stronger as the pressure to get out of this squalid neighborhood grew stronger. Eleanor was pasted to his side as they walked and Aaron made sure to keep his arm free to reach his pistol if needed. Harsh eyes still dug into his skin but he kept his gaze stoic and hard.
Stylish clothes and a shiny carriage would have painted a red target on their backs so that was why they decided on disguises and the hackney to diminish such chances. Clearly, their efforts had been in vain.
In the far end of the road, he spotted a few hackneys lingering and a man, out of nowhere, bumped into him. Aaron had his pistol out and into the man’s side before he could move off.
His bleak eyes widened, “Sorry guv. I didn’t mean to—”
“Put it back,” Aaron growled under his breath.
“Put what back?” the man tried to deflect while Eleanor reached around and pried Aaron’s coin pouch from his dirty hand.
“This,” Eleanor said before leaning back and landing a facer on the man, who nearly stumbled the ground but managed to stagger away.
Aaron holstered his pistol and looked at her with admiration, “There’s a little hoyden in you, isn’t there?”
While pocketing his pouch, Eleanor was grim, “With the mood I am in, be grateful that I did not tell you to shoot him.”
