Page 8 of Loved by a Duke

L ord Flynn, Earl of Larsson

“Good evening, my lord.”

“Good evening. Lord and Lady Smythington are expecting me.” I entered the duke’s London residence and removed my hat, addressing the butler. After our morning row, I wasn’t able to forget our conversation. Bringing up the concept of a ménage with Rex had initially been in jest, yet he took me seriously. In the end, he challenged me to instigate the affair. Not bloody likely.

The idea wouldn’t go away, despite being doomed to failure. Eleanor had been impulsive in her youth. She was no longer a girl under her father’s strict thumb.

“I am afraid his grace has yet to return home. Her grace is in the drawing room,” the butler told me. I had a long-standing open invitation to their home and they to mine, thus I nodded and headed in that direction.

Violin music echoed in the hall, a haunting tune played by a master’s hand. Eleanor was an exceptional musician. The maid opened the door, and light spilled out into the darkened hallway. Tall windows were lined with tasseled drapes. Soft blue walls and cream-colored furniture made the room feel regal. Everything reflected Eleanor.

Sitting on a chair with her back to me, she had a stand in front of her with sheet music. I slipped behind the pianoforte, watching her while I sat on the bench. We often played together, although she was a leap above my skills.

Her ginger hair shone in the light, and her back and shoulders under a white shirtwaist, moved with the effort of playing her instrument. She had been the most beautiful woman in the room when I first met her. She still was. The years fell away every time I saw her. But she belonged to Rex. No, not belonged. She chose Rex. I had picked Mary to wed because of her sensible nature.

The second my fingers settled on the keys and began to play, Eleanor twisted around in her seat. Surprise faded, and a smile transformed her face. Stunning blue eyes the color of dusk, were lit with welcome. The two instruments played harmoniously, my fingers finding the right notes until we reached a crescendo. I lifted my hands with a theatrical flourish. “Brava,” I said with a teasing grin.

“Bravo to you as well.” She settled the violin on its stand. Sitting beside her was a sherry decanter and a half-finished glass of ruby wine. “I am afraid Rex isn’t home yet.”

“I suspected as much. He said he had to rearrange his schedule to accommodate tomorrow’s big proposal.” I strode around the pianoforte, more nervous than I should be. I had no intention of broaching the subject of a ménage, yet I was tempted. “Where is the rest of the family?”

“Harry is in the bath since he spent all day digging up my flower beds. Anne and Nigel are at the opera with Olivia and I am here awaiting my husband. Again,” she said with a light laugh that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

I wished I could say something to comfort her, however, short of Rex being home, nothing could be done about it. “It is for a good cause.”

“Indeed it is. The children wish for a small ceremony.”

“Small is relative when you’re a duke.” I didn’t envy Rex’s grander title. Mine had enough responsibility with it.

“There are certain expectations, even though we would like to keep it intimate. If we don’t invite the Queen, she will be most insulted. My only hope is she turns down the invitation.” Eleanor shrugged and reached for the glass of wine that sat on the nearby table and finished it off.

“Yes, that would definitely complicate things.” I walked over to her side, and taking her hand, I placed a kiss above the back of it. She blushed an appealing pink and fluttered her lashes. The sight stoked my ego before I could tamp it down. She was still attracted to me. If I did suggest a ménage, she might be more open to it. Might being the operative word. “You are very resourceful, thus I have faith you will persevere.”

Our hands still linked, she widened her eyes, those striking irises turning a darker hue. Her gaze dropped to my mouth, her chest moving more rapidly. With a nervous laugh, she removed her hand. “Please have a seat. Would you care for a brandy?”

“Yes, thank you.” I settled into a comfortable wing-backed chair. Twisting my hip, I knocked over a book of poetry from the side table. The slender volume fell to the floor. I bent over and picked it up. A playbill from the Kensington Music Conservatory was acting as a bookmark, and I fingered the vellum.

“Here is your brandy.” Eleanor handed me a glass, her entire body going rigid. She stared at the piece of paper as if it would bite her before she seemed to catch herself. “I was considering attending one of the performances.”

Frowning, I took the glass, my hand brushing hers. “Beg pardon?”

“The playbill. It is from the conservatory. It is my understanding some of the world’s best musicians study there.” She perched on the edge of her seat, her figure rigid and unbending. Something had made her uncomfortable. “Of course you would know that since you are on the board.”

The uncharacteristic nervousness she showed made me mistrustful. Rex had mentioned she wasn’t herself of late. He suspected there might be another man in her life. I thought it was simpler than that. They needed to talk and not assume things about each other.

“I am.” I sipped at the brandy, welcoming the bite of the liquor on my throat. “Olivia is always after me to sponsor some cause or another. Since I like music, it seemed a worthy endeavor.”

Her smile faltered, and she pressed her lips together before seeming to rally herself. “I have heard the most talented get accepted and it is difficult to get an audition.”

“It is a very popular school for young talent.”

“Young talent?” she repeated with a brittle laugh, “of course.”

I cursed my insensitive remark. As a woman of a certain age, she might be sensitive about the subject. Although I wasn’t sure why. She was a vibrant woman with unlimited appeal. “None of them hold a candle to your skills with the violin.”

She tilted her head, skepticism marking her brow. Misgiving rested in her direct stare. “Is something amiss because you are acting out of character?”

“No, nothing is amiss. Can’t a gentleman simply compliment a lady without ulterior motives?” I asked.

Eleanor glanced at me with caution. “Yes, he can. However, it is not something you have done since...” She lowered her lashes before raising them again. “Since, well, since you were courting me.”

I offered a sheepish smile. “Then it was a grave mistake on my part.”

“Which part? Courting me or not complimenting me?”

“Both.” I was becoming more and more nervous under her scrutiny. My conversation with Rex continued to haunt me. I was convinced she could see right through me. She was the one woman who could turn me into knots without even trying.

“May I ask why you thought to offer me such a nice compliment after all these years?” A slight tremor in her hand gave away her discomfort with our conversation. Yet I sensed her line of questioning was leading somewhere.

Was Rex right? Was Eleanor either having an affair or considering an affair with me? I had been half in jest over the entire ménage conversation, which unfortunately turned serious. I was still peeved at him for his unfair characterization of me. “Are you offended?”

“No, I am flattered. Thank you.” Her gaze drifted down and settled on my mouth once again. She licked her lips before she seemed to catch herself. “You always had a charming way of turning a phrase.”

“Have you ever thought about how things would have been different if you had accepted my proposal?” I asked, unsure why I was torturing myself with such a banal question. The restlessness I had been experiencing made me reckless. My conversation with Rex had taken hold of my mind, and if I was smart, I would find an excuse to leave. I stayed rooted in my seat, my gaze drifting to where the thin silk of her white shirtwaist revealed the distinct outline of her nipples.

“When I made my decision, I was torn. It pains me to admit it, but my father thought you brought out the worst in me.” A small smile played over her lips, her lashes still hiding her eyes from view. “I disagreed.”

“Are you saying you might have picked me if it wasn’t for your father?” This was the first time I heard of this, and I was eager for her answer.

Panic brightened her eyes, and she shook her head. “Forget I said anything. If Rex found out, he would be hurt that it was my father and not me who ultimately chose him.”

“You have my word.” I took another sip, my thoughts racing. She hadn’t confirmed or denied my question. It was better all-around she hadn’t. The past was the past. Except the knowledge I might have been her first choice filled my chest with warmth.

“You are a good friend, and my father’s characterization of you was insulting.” She smoothed the skirt over her knees and played with the stem of her glass. “While he misjudged you, he was right about me. I, well, I went a little wild on that night, and not only betrayed Rex, but Mary as well. If you recall, you were supposed to meet her that night.”

I had been courting Mary, and she had imbibed too much sherry. Eleanor had informed me of her distress, and things became heated between us.

“I led you to believe we might have a future together, and for that, I am sorry,” she said.

“You were and still are in love with Rex.” Never with me . My earlier elation deflated. No matter how many kisses we had shared, her heart belonged to Rex. It had been a painful revelation at the time, and it still stung. Like me, she was simply reliving past decisions.

“At the time, I couldn’t have said that with any certainty. I was very confused about my feelings.” With a light laugh, she picked up her glass and drank. “It is silly. I thought I would have all the answers when I was married and had children.”

“When you have all the answers, please let me know. I have a million questions.” I leaned back in my seat, unsure if it was wise for me to stay.

“I am hoping you have one answer for me.” She shook her head, her curls displaced by the action at my absurd remark. The lightened expression of moments before faded. “Has Rex ever taken a mistress that you know of?”

“No.” I was pleased I could answer truthfully on that score. “Why would you ask?”

“No reason.” She avoided my stare, the flush on her cheeks giving her away.

“There must be a reason for you to ask.” I wasn’t certain if I should push her or not. The conversation had taken an odd turn.

She put her face in her hands and shook her head. “Forgive me for being bold, but you are a man, and I wanted to know what he knows about, well, you know.” Her voice was muffled. “Things a mistress would know.”

I stifled a bark of laughter as the words sank into my head. How to answer without disclosing Rex’s confidence. I knew the restrictions she had put on their marriage bed, except if I let on that I knew, she would be very upset with Rex. “I am afraid you will need to be more specific.”

“Don’t men talk about these things?” she asked, frowning at me. “I assume you would. I know women talk about these things.”

“Yes, we talk. I am most curious to know what women say about these, well, things.”

“Are you mocking me?” she asked.

“No, I am simply being nosy. I know with certainty the only woman Rex has been with is you.” Another man, yes. Me.

She angled her head and weighed her words. “You knew my father well.”

The marquess had been a rude and arrogant ass who ruled his family with an iron thumb. “Yes.”

“I was taught to be a proper lady in all aspects of my marriage.” Bitterness laced her words, her voice tight. “I was na?ve and impulsive in many ways, so I made it a point to try to follow his dictate. I wanted a fresh start with Rex and I set the rules of engagement.”

Had I not been privy to the rules—thanks to Rex—I wouldn’t have been able to decipher her cryptic explanation. I chose my answer with care. “What Mary’s death has taught me, is that life is short, and I need to act on my desires. I don’t know how much longer I have, none of us do.”

“Well put.” Indecision flitted across her brow, and she hopped to her feet, moving to the window. Dusk had settled over the city. I could see her reflection in the window pane, clearly troubled. “Olivia recommended I have an affair.”

“Would you be receptive to one?” My fortieth year was fast approaching and I pushed back the rush of panic that always preceded the thought. No matter my growing age, I could still find a new bride. Since I wasn’t interested in marrying a woman my daughters’ age, Olivia was the logical choice.

“I’m flattered, but I am married to Rex. While I have considered the very, um, thing you are asking me, I can’t.”

“Beg pardon?” I shook my head, unsure if I missed something. “You have been considering an affair with me?”

Today had been full of surprises from the Smythingtons, and I had a feeling things were about to get even more interesting.