Page 54 of His Temporary Duchess

“Sebastian, dearest!” she chimed, coming up to them both and not so much as sparing Eleanor a glance. Any thoughts Eleanor might have had about this being a good thing, resolving old trauma, vanished almost immediately. “It has been too long. A veritable age.” She rested her hand on Sebastian’s arm, and although Eleanor wished he’d shake it off, he just stared at her, stunned.

“Lydia.” He appeared to gather himself and turned, dropping her arm as he looked at Eleanor. “This is my wife, Eleanor. Eleanor, meet…” He cleared his throat. “Lady Lydia.”

“Wife!” Lady Lydia’s laugh tinkled. “Someone said you had married but I couldn’t believe it was true.”

“It is. I’m a married man now.” He patted Eleanor’s hand, but she wasn’t sure if it was a gesture of affection or a silent request for her to remain silent. “It is a recent affair.”

“I saw the announcement in the paper. Quite a sudden thing, too.” She smiled and took Sebastian’s other arm. “But I have to say, I am delighted to have met you again after all this time.”

“It is a long time,” he said neutrally.

“Have you been to see the animals? I couldn’t do it.” She gave an exaggerated shudder. “Although I’m sure you must have had a good time.” A note in her voice indicated that she did not, in fact, think such a thing. “Are you staying in town? Please say you’ll have tea with us. Both of you, of course.” For the first time, she looked directly at Eleanor. “I am so sure we can be good friends.”

Eleanor did her best to suppress the worm of jealousy that wiggled its way up her throat at the idea of spending more time with this woman. She liked to think of herself as level-headed, but there was nothing she liked less than the prospect of watching another lady flirt with her husband.

A lady whom he used to love.

But Sebastian seemed oblivious to her thoughts or her disinclination to go.

“We have no other plans,” he said. “We’d be delighted to.”

“Oh, wonderful! My house is not far from here, as it happens. We could walk.”

He inclined his head a little. “Of course. I’ll inform my coachman. You ladies set off without me.”

Eleanor watched him stride back to the coachman—a new one who seemed reasonably competent, at least—and her heart pinched a little.

“Thank you so much for writing to me,” Lady Lydia whispered, slipping her arm through Eleanor’s. “I confess, it was such a relief to hear from you. I was quite worried for him, you know. I thought a fit of madness might have overcome him.” She laughed, tipping her head back as though she had said something terribly funny. “I don’t mean to be rude, forgive me.”

“Why would you think madness had overcome him?” Eleanor asked stiffly.

“Well, he has never been one to rush into things, and I know that his proposal to you was not one made after courtship. I wouldhave known, you see.” She said the words carelessly, but Eleanor knew what lay behind them.

She would have known, because she had been keeping a close watch on the Duke.

“I was afool, when I was younger I mean to say,” Lady Lydia said with a sigh. “I loved him, but he was hurting in ways that I could not quite entertain, and I ended things with him. He was quite distraught over it all.”

Eleanor thought about the letters she had found. The coldness in the latter few, and the lingering perfume.

The fact he had kept those letters despite everything.

“We were young, yes, but we were very much in love. That was another reason I was startled by your sudden marriage. Not only had he not courted you, but I am intimately familiar with his tastes, and while I am certain many gentlemen prefer darker hair, Sebastian has always complimented me on my fair hair.” She sighed wistfully. “It surprised me, that was all, that he would choose you when you are not his ordinary style.”

Another rush of uncertainty flooded Eleanor, swelling in her throat until she had to take a breath past the obstruction. Sebastian had certainlyappearedsatisfied with her of late, but he had never said anything about marrying her for her beauty.

And who could compare to Lady Lydia? No woman could.

“But youarevery pretty,” Lady Lydia said in a rallying tone. “And I have no doubt that now he has come around to dusky curls like yours. I would not wish to do anything to stand in your way—all I want to do is speak to him about our past and clear the air. He must know how much I regret behaving the way I did, and that it was entirely my fault and not any fault of his. You see why that would be a good thing for him to hear, don’t you?” She blinked big, blue eyes at Eleanor, who swallowed back the acidic words brewing in her chest.

Of course she understood. Of course she knew the importance of having someone who abandoned Sebastian explain the reasons why, and how it did not pertain to him not being enough.

She just wished—oh how she wished—that person was not Lady Lydia.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Sebastian followed Lydia into the drawing room he had once been invited to almost daily. That had been a long time ago, so distant in his past that he could barely remember it. The pain of losing her at the time had felt as though it might swallow him whole, but he supposed that time truly did ease all hurt.

Or perhaps it was newfound happiness that did that. Once, he had brooded over losing Lady Lydia near-nightly, wondering which of his faults had finally driven her away. Wondering, in truth, if he was unlovable.