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The dinner was going on as she expected. No one knew what to say or how to start a conversation with the Duke. The awkward silence was broken up with clinks of the silverware on the plates and self-conscious glances at each other.

Of course, Eleanor knew how to converse over dinner; it was what she was bred for. Polite dinner conversation and how to run a household were key education points during her education.

However, no one ever prepared her for what to say when you needed to entertain the man in charge of your welfare after catching him doing unspeakable things to a widow while you watched.

Eleanor’s cheeks heated, and she chastised herself.Stop thinking about what you saw.

Even though she felt uneasy around the Duke, the thought of this dinner dragging out any longer than it needed to was too much for her.

She set her fork down and patted her lips with her napkin. But before she opened her mouth, the Duke spoke.

“I saw the most beautiful landscape paintings in the library. Madden tells me one of you girls painted them.”

“That would be me, Your Grace,” Sarah smiled brightly.

The Duke took a sip of his drink before continuing, “They’re quite remarkable Sarah. Have you been painting long?”

Sarah sat taller, pride coloring her face. “Yes, Your Grace. My father taught me when I was younger. I spent many days outside with him, painting different areas of the gardens.”

The Duke tilted his face in consideration. “Ah, yes. I thought I recognized the small path in the picture. It’s just down the hill by the creek, is that correct?”

Sarah’s face reddened more. “Yes, Your Grace. I’m surprised you like that one. It’s one of my earlier works; I was younger than Beatrice is now when I painted it.” Her eyes dropped to her fork, pushing a pea around her plate. “I was surprised when Papa hung it in the library.”

“He was proud of all of his girls,” Charlotte said and pretended to wipe a tear from her eye.

While the love between her mother and father was never faked, her mother would never let the opportunity for sympathy or attention stop her from using his death to her advantage. Playing the poor widow card would not break her moral compass.

The Duke ignored Charlotte and focused his attention on Beatrice. “And what of your hobbies, Beatrice.”

She lifted a shoulder. “Nothing out of the ordinary. I do a little painting, nothing like Sarah but average. My needlepoint isn’t the best; I end up pricking my finger more than the canvas. I’m decent on the pianoforte though.”

“She likes to read,” Eleanor interrupted. “If there’s a book she hasn’t read, chances are she’ll have it read by the end of the week.”

Charlotte tutted. “Oh, Eleanor, you exaggerate. Beatrice reads the appropriate amount for a young woman to stay knowledgeable but not arrogant.” She looked over to her youngest. “Isn’t that right, Beatrice?”

Beatrice dropped the stare she was giving Eleanor to smile sweetly at her mother.

“That’s right, Mama.”

Charlotte patted Beatrice’s arm, “That’s my girl.”

The Duke sat, taking in the exchange between the women. Eleanor shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with how his eyes made her feel. She felt on display for his amusement, and the unknown of if, or when, he was going to bring up the night before weighed heavily on her.

Eleanor tapped her finger on the table. Her nervous energy needed to be released from her body. He said they would talk after dinner, but of what? And why would her sisters and mother have to be a part of it?

She picked up her water glass to aid her dry throat.

“So Sarah paints, Beatrice reads.” His eyes settled on Eleanor. “What do you do, Eleanor?”

His full attention threw her nerves into a frenzy.

Before Eleanor could answer, Charlotte chimed in. “What doesn’t she do, Your Grace? Eleanor is excellent on the pianoforte, her painting and needlework are regarded as the best amongst her friends, and she is quite the dancer,” she added with a slight nod in Eleanor’s direction.

Eleanor inwardly sighed. She felt as if she were being sold at auction, but that was her life. While her sisters were allowed hobbies and interests of their own making, Eleanor’s hobbies were assigned to her and always under the guise of using them to become the perfect wife.

Eleanor’s eyes met the Duke’s questioning ones. He was looking at Eleanor as Charlotte continued to list Eleanor’s many impressive, albeit deliberate, hobbies and personality traits.

“She really is an impressive young woman, don’t you think so, Your Grace? We’re hoping this is the year she finds her match.”Charlotte’s words were kind but had an edge of anxiety outlining them. Eleanor knew her mother grew tired of Eleanor turning down suitors who, by most accounts, would be the perfect match for her.