Page 37 of A Marriage of Convenience with a Rake
He drew in a deep breath. He had not confided that to anyone, but he could not deny it.
“My lord?” The butler appeared in the hallway, the trolley he pushed rattling a little with the heavy load of bowls and plates. “Dinner is here when you wish to eat.”
“Thank you. Is her ladyship in the drawing room?” he asked hastily.
“She is,” the butler informed him.
“Good.”
Sebastian walked briskly past, heading into the drawing room. He wanted a little time to greet Eleanor before the butler arrived.
“My lady?” he called softly.
Eleanor was by the window, a book in her lap. The sunset was bright on the westerly hillside, the orange light illuminating her hair with reddish highlights. She wasn’t moving. Though she stared at the book, her eyes were not followingthe text. Her thoughts were clearly not on reading.
“Miss Eleanor?” he called fondly.
“Oh!” She made a small, startled noise, her gaze darting from the book to the door where he stood. She flushed, embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were there.”
“I know,” he said softly. A small smile lifted the corner of his mouth. He gazed at her, and as he did, his brow knotted. Her skin was pale, her eyes tired looking. There were grayish prints of exhaustion under them. “My lady...you need more sleep.”
“No...” she countered, though he could hear in her voice, in its breathy hesitance, how weary she seemed.
“Yes, you do,” he said gently. “You are tired.”
“How is your father?” she asked at once, setting the book aside. “Did he need something?”
He smiled. “He is well,” he said quickly. He felt his heart twist, noting how her eyes brightened in relief. She had cared tirelessly for his father, expending each ounce of her energy on seeing that he was fed and rested. He frowned again. She took so much care that she was exhausting herself. “He is resting comfortably. He said he had eaten a plateful of gruel,” he added hastily.
“I know,” she said softly.
“Come, my lady,” Sebastian interjected. “You must sit and rest. The butler is here with the food,” he added, hearing the soft clatter of the trolley outside.
“Oh. Is it that time?” Eleanor asked, a small frown appearing on her brow.
“Yes,” he replied gently. “Look, it’s already nightfall.”
“I didn’t notice.”
He chuckled. “You’ve been overworking yourself, my lady,” Sebastian told her softly. He walked with her to the small table in the corner of the drawing room, where the butler was already unloading the dishes. A savory smell wafted from the big tureen and Sebastian sighed as the butler ladled out a dish of soup forhim.
“Cream of spinach soup...it was always a favourite of mine.”
“It’s very good,” Eleanor commented, taking a spoonful from her bowl as the butler retreated softly to the door.
“It is,” Sebastian agreed warmly.
They chatted lightly about Papa and his recovery, eating the soup and then moving on to the main course. Papa was eating heartily, Eleanor informed him.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Sebastian replied. “The physician said he should have another week of bed rest,” he added, frowning as he recalled the list of things the fellow had recommended.
“Yes. I will insist on it,” Eleanor said firmly. “He still needs to spend a few days in bed.”
“I think you have more of a chance of insisting than I do,” Sebastian told her with a chuckle. “Papa listens to you.”
“Your father is very close to you, Sebastian,” Eleanor said gently.
Sebastian swallowed. For all that he knew how much his own father mattered to him, he struggled to imagine he mattered as much to Papa. Her words comforted him.
