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Charlotte’s eyes stayed on Eleanor’s. “Let’s hope he realizes that.”

Eleanor tried to smile at her mother. For all of her concern over who her daughters were going to marry, there was still a part of her that wanted them happy first.

Eleanor’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. She pushed away from the table to stand. Her knees wobbled underneath her.

She followed her mother and sisters out of the room, her steps growing heavier the closer she got to the study.

At the door, her mother turned towards her daughters. “Whatever this is about, we’ll get through it. We always do.”

The four women each looked at each other before Charlotte let out a breath and opened the door.

CHAPTER 7

Derek tried not to laugh at the terrified looks on the women’s faces. They looked as though they were walking towards a firing squad.

“Ladies, please come in.”

One by one, the women shuffled through the door. Charlotte, who usually exuded confidence when entering a room, seemed unsure of where to direct her daughters.

Derek lifted a hand and motioned to the sofa and chair across from the fireplace. “Let’s sit by the fire, shall we? I’ve noticed some drafts coming through the windows. I’ve added it to the list of things I’ll be correcting in the coming weeks.”

Charlotte’s face paled as embarrassment swept over her. Beatrice’s and Sarah’s eyes dropped to the carpet while one set of eyes remained fixed on his. Eleanor’s. She was quite the paradoxto him. She seemed so defiant in the library last night, but today, she let her mother control the conversation at dinner.

After holding his gaze for a moment, her eyes drifted to her mother’s. It was a pity. He rather liked holding her full attention.

The younger two girls followed suit and looked at their mother as well. Didn’t these women do anything without her approval?

Thankfully, Charlotte nodded to the women, and they all sat. Derek walked to the bar cart and poured two glasses of port, one for Charlotte and one for Eleanor, and a whisky for himself. He wasn’t sure if society approved of young women drinking port, but he never cared about what society thought, and he wasn’t about to start now. Besides, the aid of port will help her digest the news he was about to drop on her.

He handed the glass to Eleanor, who once again looked to her mother for approval. Derek’s jaw ticked. The constant need of their mother’s approval was grating.

“Thank you for joining me. I don’t want to keep you, so I’ll get right to it. Now that I’m officially the Duke of Graynor, it is my goal to see you three married off as soon as possible.”

Eleanor sputtered out the port, causing it to dribble down her chin.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Charlotte exclaimed. “I was certain you had horrible news.” Charlotte beamed at Derek.

Derek pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to Eleanor. She accepted it and dabbed her dress, pulling Derek’s attention to her breasts.

Derek took a moment to remember his purpose and forced his eyes away but not after getting a good look. He was a man after all.

“Why would you think that?” Derek questioned. “Didn’t Eleanor tell you what we discussed last night?” Derek turned to see a set of mutinous green eyes staring back at him.

“I told them that you had questioned how I was not married, but that was all we talked about.” Eleanor forced the words out through clenched teeth.

Derek tried not to laugh. She was trying so hard to remain calm but was failing. The complication excited Derek to no end.

Derek cracked his neck and settled into his own chair. “Exactly,” he said with a devilish grin. It was on the tip of his tongue to push her limits and say something inappropriate, but he didn’t want her mother catching on.

However, he wasn’t ashamed to admit he liked the idea of toying with Eleanor, pushing her to see how far she would go before she would break.

Derek shifted in his seat. He was getting hard thinking about her in that way. His wayward thoughts didn’t worry him, however.He was a man; men reacted to beautiful women all the time. It was nothing more than that. Besides, his job was to marry her off, not bed her.

His eyes found hers again. The phrase “if looks could kill” came to mind. After being on the receiving side of her murderous glare, he pitied the man who would be tied to her day in and day out.

“First, let me be clear. I will not be cruel and arrange a marriage before you are ready.” He directed his comment to Beatrice, whose face was turning a shade of green he was uncomfortable with. “I will allow you your debut season and one season after. If you don’t find a suitable match within that time period, I will pick someone for you.”

Beatrice let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders releasing the tension she was holding.