Page 51 of Her Duke in Shining Armor
Her heart pounded in her chest erratically as she came upon the front lawns of the manor and let out the breath she had been holding. With her head down, she circled the manor to the servant door at the back and slipped inside.
With soft whispering steps, she went to the main staircase and approached it with relief in her eyes. She made it to the third step when Mr. Ambrose’s voice, laced with incredulity, shattered her illusion of safety.
“My Lady,” the man in his bedclothes and robe said. “What are you doing up so late?”
Eleanor swallowed over a raw throat, should she tell Ambrose or not? Could she trust him? She could but then if she did and it was found out that he knew, the man, faithful to her family for over two decades, could be dismissed in disgrace. She did not want that.
Turning she made out his form through the flicking candlelight and put on the most pathetic look on her face, “I snuck out Mr. Ambrose, I know it's late and dangerous but I went to the garden for…some peace. Tonight was upsetting and took a lot out of me. I didn’t expect poor Maria to…” her voice broke, “to leave in such a way.”
Mr. Ambrose’s sigh was audible, “I understand, My Lady, but you should not put yourself in such danger again.”
“I understand,” Eleanor replied.
She did not want to tell him that she wouldn’t or give any other promise, vague or not, about not leaving again.
“Goodnight, My Lady,” Mr. Ambrose bowed.
With a faltering smile, Eleanor finished the stairs and entered the room. She stepped once but her knees faltered and she fell to the floor. Her hands were trembling and her breath was short and static. How was she going to fulfill her promise to Maria? Could she get someone on her side? The idea was intriguing, but who was brave enough to defy her father?
Chapter 15
With every thunderclap, Eleanor’s heart jumped into her throat. The sky was an angry grey but not a drop of rain had fallen yet. Her fear for Maria, hiding near that once lightning-struck tree was tearing at her. It was probably impossible but what if the tree was struck again? A macabre vision of the old oak going up in flames with little Maria near it sickened her stomach.
Sitting in the window seat, Eleanor tried to read theMeditations on First Philosophybut her eyes were continuously drawn to the sky.
“Your tea, My Lady,” Lisa said while settling the tray on her table.
Eleanor eyed the food with little desire but knew that she had to carry on with her normal routine. Her father had not summoned her either but that was no comfort to her.
“Thank you, Lisa,” Eleanor closed the book on her lap and maneuvered her stiff legs out from under her. Taking the cup in hand, she mechanically spooned in milk and sugar and sipped it while her eyes went back to the window.
The clouds were moving away but the sky was still angry and her soul mirrored it.Why had I not known about my mother and Maria’s?Why had something so harmless been kept from her? She tried to search her memory, seeking a visual of the woman but aside from a cloudy image of a thin woman with dark hair, Eleanor had nothing.
Grimly, she wondered if Maria’s mother had been kept from her for a reason, a nefarious reason. She had no proof to support her theory but when it came to her father, she had learned to not give him the benefit of the doubt.
She kept scanning the sky, latching her eyes on the mounds of clouds trying to will the thick masses to move away from over the house and the lands beyond it. Last night had been a close one and though she had escaped Mr. Ambrose’s scrutiny and censure, she could not afford to get caught again, and she could not involve Ambrose.
Eleanor knew she needed help but who could she draw in that would not tattletale on her to her father. With all things considered, not many would risk their livelihood for her when her father had all the power. Maybe she would have to do it alone and let the chips fall as they may. If she could save Maria’s life, she would consider that a victory over all the backlash that would come after.
She absently took a sip from the cup and recoiled, the tea had gone cold and murky.Ugh.This is disgusting.
* * *
Dawn had not fully formed when Aaron had begun his review of his company’s documents and reports. He was going through them with an analytical eye, searching carefully for any inconsistencies.
Thankfully, there was only the one inconsistency with the coffee tubs as Wyndrake had not launched his attack—if Aaron could call it that—until he had insulted him in the Whites. What he needed to do now was put in the infrastructure to make sure none of this happened again.
Aaron dropped his pen and massaged his eyes while his ears picked up the lingering claps of thunder. Could he believe that Wyndrake was behind this? Was the rumor about him paying a man to harm Julius true or was he chasing a red herring?
Shoving away from the desk, Aaron tugged his waistcoat down and went the window. The split second his eyes lit upon on the stretch of thick trees over the Stanley property, his mind flashed back to last night. Eleanor. His stomach cramped at the very thought of seeing her harmed.
“Excuse me, Your Grace,” a footman said. “Mr. Wilcox is here to see you.”
“Show him in,” Aaron replied.
“Oberton,” Julius came in, his voice was laced with disbelief. “What is this about you nearly getting shot? Is it true?”
“It is,” Aaron replied while moving from the window. “And before you give me the lecture, yes, I know it was harebrained and very dangerous but you are my friend, Wilcox. I have so few friends that the ones I do have are more precious than gold to me, so pardon me for going above and beyond in any measure.”
