Page 62 of Her Duke in Shining Armor
She was safe…again.
* * *
Aaron’s respect for Eleanor had tripled. The lady had risked her life for her servant, a child that many others would have discarded without any thought. Servants were easy to get and easier to replace but Eleanor had clearly made a connection with the girl, Maria, to the point she had defied her father’s ruling and saved her.
If there was any member of the peerage that had a fraction of the compassion and human kindness that Eleanor had, Aaron had yet to see it. He was received at his townhome by a sleepy footman who sharpened up quickly enough.
He had walked from just below Grosvenor to his home in Mayfair, Aaron had taken the small walk to marvel. He had felt it best to leave Eleanor with the mystery of the hooded stranger until he needed to use it as leverage on her.
Entering his shadowed room, Aaron tugged off his cloak and sat to take off his boots. His shirt went next and then he sank barefoot into a wingback chair. He wondered if Eleanor was going to shut him out again. If so, he would tell her what he knew.
The next issue was Wyndrake. Had he been a bit presumptuous with the other duke? Had had he made a massive mistake by throwing out such an accusation? Wyndrake had not given him any indicative response to his allegation and now he was double thinking about what he had said.
Was the man innocent and had Aaron jumped to erratic conclusions based on a rumor? Scrubbing his face, Aaron prayed he had not made a massive mistake.
* * *
Morning came with a sense of relief that Eleanor had not felt since the evening she had told Maria to run. Normally, she would have slept in after the long night she had with Maria, but knowing she had her mother’s diary at hand, she could not oversleep.
Her eyes blinked open with the growing dawn. Nothing and no one was going to stop her from reading her mother’s diary. Shifting on her pillow, Eleanor felt a tendril of her hair tickle her face. She sat up and felt around. Her thick tresses were matted in the back and wild everywhere else. She probably looked a fright.
Laughing softly, she sat up and searched for her wrapper. With the thin cloth on, she went to set her hair right, washed her face, and rang for tea. Most ladies would not be awake at this hour but the kitchen staff had gotten to know her routine by now.
Settling in her chair, Eleanor took out the book and just as she meant to open it, her fingers stopped. Her hand was an inch away from the soft malleable cover but breaching that small distance felt like she was crossing the Sinai desert.
Her eyes were stuck on her insubordinate fingers, willing them to cross the inch but they did not move. Why? Was she afraid of what she would find?
The knock on her door was an annoying distraction but it gave her time to realign herself. “Enter.”
Lisa came in. “Good morning, My Lady. Your milk, tea, and honey. Cook sent up the sweet bun you requested last time. A wide change from your usual roll and fruit, I must say.”
Eleanor promptly blushed. She knew why the change had happened. Dratted Aaron and his love for the confections had gotten her hooked on sweets. Clearing her throat, Eleanor replied, “It is healthy to change once in a while.”
“I agree,” Lisa curtsied. “Good day, My Lady.”
To gather her will, Eleanor took up the teacup and sipped the sweet concoction. Picking parts of the bun to nibble on, Eleanor managed to drink half of the tea and eat a few bites of the bun before wiping her hands of the melted sugar. With decisive action, she took up the book and this time, the cover smoothly opened. She read:
Today is my wedding day.
A beautiful autumn day. The leaves had already changed color and are a blanket of vivid oranges, riotous reds and the dull gold on the ground. Father arranged this marriage for me after the three years I had tried but failed to secure a husband. He swore that no daughter of his—age one-and-twenty—was going to be placed on the shelf. My intended is Fenton Stanley, the son of Richard Stanley, Duke of Brisdane. He is brilliant in the way of businesses.
I suppose it's my duty. I cannot languish in books and dream of wandering the far beyond like a drifter. A woman’s duty is with her family, her husband, and children. At least that’s what ‘An Enquiry’ into the Duties of the Female Sex’,says. I am told my intended is a handsome man, tall, broad in the shoulders and has deep navy eyes.
I am not sure what my life will be from now on. As of now…I can only pray for the best and take each day as it comes.
Eleanor turned the page and read on. Her mother was dutiful in writing down something for every numbered day. The notations would span from a full page to two or three paragraphs or even a few sentences but not a day passed by in the first months of the marriage that there was not a note.
Elizabeth’s tone was continually optimistic even in the passages where she wrote how her husband was out late many nights and took to a guest room instead of their bedchamber. Her mother was certain it was only business matters and that he was being considerate in not waking her.
I’d have thought he had a mistress but then, I am a bit jaded.
With every passing sentence and cheerful disposition, Eleanor felt closer to her dead mother, just by her words alone. Her mind painted a picture of Elizabeth, with a non-failing smile and kind look. It was an image that paired with her memories and made her feel wonderful. Her mother had been a good person.
While reading, she tracked the time as it passed by but was interrupted by a maid. “Yes?”
“I apologize for disturbing you, My Lady,” a maid curtsied, “It is noon and Mr. Ambrose received a card for you. It is from the Duke of Oberton.”
A soft pang ran through her chest even as she blinked in shock. Was it noon already? Time had passed too quickly for her liking. “Did he come himself?”
