Page 52 of Her Duke in Shining Armor
His words stole the wind out of Julius’ sails and constable’s shoulders visibly deflated. Julius’ smile was wry. “You make it hard to upbraid you with a sermon like that. But do you really believe Wyndrake was behind it?”
Scuffing a palm over his face, Aaron shook his head, “Right now, I don’t even know what I believe. It could be and then it could not be, I am in limbo.”
“But if it was him?”
“I’d extend the arms of the law and throttle him,” Aaron shrugged. “You know, instead of mine.”
“You always trusted your gut, Oberton, and your instincts never failed you yet,” Julius added his two cents. “Except for the time when you first met me.”
Aaron suddenly flinched at the memory of thirteen-year-old Julius’ blazing eyes and blistering left hook after he had insulted him at Eton. He even brushed a hand over his right cheek where the phantom pain from the blow had flickered. “You don’t have to remind me.”
The constable helped himself to a seat, careful to rest his sling-covered elbow on the padded arm. “So, where are you on the Lady Eleanor debacle?”
“About that,” Aaron said while taking a seat across from his friend. “I kissed her.”
The shock value he had hoped to elicit from Julius presented itself in a merely arched eyebrow and a quirk of his lips. Aaron felt cheated out of the widened eyes and dropped jaw he had been hoping for. “And how did that end?”
“In courtship,” Aaron clarified. “But we must take a shot at being friends first.”
“And who proposed that clause, you or her?”
Seeing that Aaron knew that Julius already knew that answer to his question, he rolled his eyes, “She did.”
“That is a very brilliant lady and I applaud her for the forethought. Friendship is the best way to become lovers. You get to know her inside and out, just as she will know you. I am telling you, Oberton,” the other man shook his head. “She’s perfect for you.”
“Just like you are for Lady Darcy,” Aaron admitted.
“Aye,” Julius agreed with a simple loving smile taking his lips at the memory of his beloved, “Oh, and Oberton, I appreciate you setting runners to look over Darcy but if I ever see one more blue frockcoat trailing me again, I will not be responsible for my actions. I can damn well take care of myself.”
“Of course you can,” Aaron conceded.
Julius’ eyes narrowed in suspicion, “You’re not going to call them off, are you?”
“Of course not.”
* * *
The only reason Eleanor had requested a carriage ride to the Temple of The Muses bookstore in Finsbury Square was not to get a new novel like she had stated, but to map out her next steps for secreting Maria away.
Trotting past the rest of the houses and alongside Grosvenor Square, Eleanor had mapped out a few places where she could place Maria until she got to get her out to the Seven Dials.
“My Lady,” Miss Malcolm asked. “I did not get to express my pleasure the other day, but I am very happy about your new connection with His Grace.”
Eleanor turned away from the window, “I am too, but I am apprehensive about how his talk with my father will go. They don’t seem to get along.”
“Even if your father is cross, His Grace is the best match for you,” her chaperone added. “He is brilliant, capable, young and very handsome a—oh my, forgive me—”
Eleanor openly laughed and waved Miss Malcolm's blushing apology away, “Don’t be apologetic for what is plain to see. He is handsome but I appreciate his mind much more than his looks. He has a quick wit that I treasure more than the glimmer in his emerald eyes.”
“You see yourself with him then,” Miss Malcolm’s voice was hesitant.
Reflecting on being around Aaron elicited a fluttery feeling in her chest and a smile. “Someday…if all goes well.”
The reasonably short ride to the store was done with lighthearted memories of how Aaron had narrowed his gemstone eyes at her and the fluttering palpations at the memory of his kisses. She had certainly misjudged him, and even more, she had misjudged herself.
All that time she had been scared, scared of herself and him. How had her younger self subconsciously assessed Aaron and known that he had been a threat to her sensibilities and state of mind she did not know, but that was what had happened.
The London road to the bookstore was sparsely populated to Eleanor’s delight. The front of the store was ridiculously wide and the roof was crowned by a well-known and recognizable dome. The flag that normally flew when the late owner James Lackington had been in residence was flying high from the hoist and Eleanor wondered why that was.
