Page 39 of Her Duke in Shining Armor
“Miss Malcolm—”
“My Lady, I am not sure about this.”
“It is only for a moment, I need to get my thoughts in order,” Eleanor replied. “It won’t take five minutes and it is enclosed.”
Her chaperone still did not look comforted but she nodded and Eleanor followed the housekeeper to the back door and through the garden gate. Stepping into the garden, she breathed in deeply. She had come to ask Darcy on the best way to approach the Duke. She did not know the man well and feared making a bad move.
As she contemplated the conundrum, she neared a batch of flowerless rose bushes and suddenly slipped, gasping as she hurtled backward. Her heart was in her throat as she braced for impact—but then collided with something firm and solid—a body.
“Whoa,” a deep voice said. “Don’t go breaking your neck Lady Eleanor, your father would tax my soul for it.”
The Duke of Oberton was holding her. The very thought of him made her nervous and now she had his voice in her ear. This was not good.
Chapter 11
Though his green eyes traced over her, Aaron had not moved when she had walked inside the garden, which meant she had not noticed him reclining in the shadow of an elm tree. Her simple rose dress was lovely on her subtle curves and its blush color evoked memories of the flush of her cheeks the other day in the hospital.
Aaron had not anticipated seeing Lady Eleanor but he was not going to refuse her presence. The cool dusk and the red glow of the rays of the sun highlighting her skin and playing over her dress were not disagreeing with her either. He was prepared to watch her until she inevitably noticed him but he was not prepared for seeing her lose her footing and nearly fall backward.
He managed to grab her an inch away from the ground and with his arms bracing her, he lifted her enough to stand. Her breast was racing and her cheeks were red enough to clash with her hair.
She clutched at him with a tight grip even as she stood. “O-Oberton…w-what are you doing here?”
“Having dinner,” he replied with an arch tone. “What are you doing here?”
He was treated with an icy look, one he brushed off without a qualm. “She is my friend and she almost lost the one person that was near and dear to her. Why wouldn’t I visit?”
“Spear and shield, Lady Eleanor,” Aaron reminded calmly.
Her lips pursed but the line in her shoulders went slack. “I…apologize. I was not expecting to see you so soon, much less slipping into the role of damsel in distress.”
Guiding her over to the sole bench, Aaron sat beside her, “Why? We all need a helping hand at times.”
Her head tilted up and her look was sphinxlike, “I know you are talking in the metaphorical sense, but I didn’t think I would ever need that. I raised myself, Your Grace. After my mother died, the slew of maids and governess my father gave me in lieu of his attention made me decide to be self-sufficient. Many people mock my bluestocking ways but books were my companions as a child and I learned much more than random facts from them.”
“But you were still lonely,” Aaron deduced.
Her laugh was quiet, “I prefer to think of it as self-preservation.”
“Has anyone told you how they perceive you?” Aaron asked.
She glanced quickly at him, “I know how they perceive me, I am sanctimonious, disregarding, and the next Lady Delancey.”
“That is not exactly what I meant…” Aaron shook his head as he tried to find the right words. “Whenever you enter a room you lean away from others, it is as if you are silently telling them to leave you alone. Do you aim for that, Lady Eleanor? Do you want people to stay away from you?”
“Pardon me?” she looked bewildered. “Do I really do that?”
“I’ve seen it with my own eyes. You do make it hard for people to approach you,” Aaron’s succinct explanation seemed to confuse her more. If she had been lonely growing up, maybe shying away from people was an unconscious reaction of hers. She probably didn’t like touch either. “And it seems to me that you don’t like to be touched either.”
“I...” she faltered, “I don’t think so.”
“Let’s test that theory then,” Aaron said while holding out his hand, “I think you would appreciate coming to that answer by inductive reasoning. Hold my hand.”
She hesitated at first but her hand, gracefully formed with slender fingers and oval nails, lifted to lightly rest crossways on his larger palm. The contrast of their skin tones was like night versus day, hers was pale cream and his was ruddy tan. He held still as she allowed her hand to rest lightly on his.
“And let it stay there,” Aaron’s advised calmly.
“Alright,” she replied.
