Page 1 of Seven Days with her Duke (Hearts of Whitmores #3)

CHAPTER 1

O ne breath in slowly and another breath out even slower.

Eleanor attempted it again, hands over her chest, as she tried to block out the noise all around her. Not that they would call it noise. Everyone was smiling and laughing and dancing. No, they would call it music even though the pianist couldn’t keep up and both violins were out of tune.

How could she focus on her breathing when they were desecrating Haydn. Though she supposed most people didn’t care for Haydn’s work.

“Hands down, dear, or pull up your fan.”

Nodding, Eleanor tried to listen to her sister-in-law. Joanna had married her elder brother, Nicholas, nearly a year ago. It had been a complicated beginning for them, but now the two were dearly in love. This was very clear to anyone who could see them even in this moment with Nicholas making his return to them. His eyes were only on Joanna, filled with absolute adoration.

That made it a little easier for Eleanor to breathe. Inhaling, she pulled out the fan and fluttered it in front of her face. She couldn’t remember any of her lessons; hopefully, she wasn’t telling anyone to come to her.

I wouldn’t know what to say. What to do. Goodness gracious, why would I agree to having a season? I should have begged off to the country. I’ll be on the shelf soon enough.

But she feared that it was too late now that she was attending her first ball. Her ball, in fact. Joanna and Nicholas were hosting this for her. Already Joanna had confirmed she had her tickets to Almack’s as well. More places for her to attend, to talk, to flirt, to dance.

“Eleanor, are you quite all right? I’ve only been gone for a moment but you look like you’re going to faint. Should I bring out my smelling salts?” Nancy Hiland asked as she came around from her other side.

Nicholas had made it to Joanna but looked around to his sister. He frowned. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” his wife reassured him.

Eleanor fluttered her fan faster. “Might I go home?”

Sighing with a gentle smile on her face, Joanna reminded her, “We are home, dear. You’re simply nervous. Keep breathing. Nancy, keep the salts close.”

“In that case, may I be excused?” Eleanor tried instead.

Her friend tossed out, “I’ll keep them at hand in my reticule to be certain. If I kept one in my glove, my dancing partners might smell them and I can’t have that. Not unless I’m dancing with old Lord Arnolds.”

Though the married couple sent the young woman stern looks with a word of warning, Eleanor silently sent her friend a quick thanks. Nancy’s quick tongue always helped distract her. This was Nancy’s second season in London. She knew exactly what to do at any special event. She knew what to say, how to tease the gentlemen, and was never embarrassed.

I don’t know how she does it. I could very well die of fright.

Or perhaps it wasn’t fright, not exactly. Eleanor tried to place it as Nancy agreed to let her stand behind the potted plants again.

“Smelling salts?” Nancy offered.

She swallowed hard before shaking her head. “No, I don’t think so. I’ll be all right. I only need a moment. I’m sorry,” Eleanor added in a low voice, making certain no one was looking their way. “There’s just so many people.”

“There are fewer people than the ball last year,” her friend reminded her. Eleanor had momentarily attended a few events last season. She had not greeted people or danced or joined in on any activities, but her brother had permitted her to be occasionally present for her friends.

Friend. Nancy. Joanna counts of course, but that’s different. She’s family.

“That was different,” Eleanor attempted to explain. “I wasn’t really meant to be attending. But now… I have a dance card, Nancy. What am I supposed to do?”

“I would assume you should seek out dance partners or at least permit them to seek you out,” she suggested optimistically.

Nancy was positive and always smiling. Considering her friend, Eleanor could see why. Nancy was a beautiful young woman of perfect British breeding. Thick yellow curls, bright blue eyes, and the sweetest pink smile. She was petite with a few gentle curves that showed what a proper young lady she was of good breeding.

As for Eleanor… She glanced down at her gown that was already wrinkled. Her brown hair was dull, and her eyes were more black than inclusive of any color. With no remarkable height, she was beginning to worry that her weight was too much. She’d lost her eldest brother and father in an accident some time ago and since then, found much of her refuge in food.

“You look lovely; stop worrying.” Joanna appeared at her side, gently touching her elbow. “The pink brings out your cheeks. Unless you’re feeling unwell, of course?”

“No. I’ll be all right. It’s time I had my season, I think,” she found herself saying though she didn’t believe a word of it. But she saw her sister-in-law’s face and couldn’t help it. “Oh, but perhaps you need to… Is it happening again, Joanna?”

Nicholas was there at once, taking his wife’s glass. “I knew I should have left you abed. Joanna, it’s time––”

Pale with circles under her eyes, the woman grudgingly nodded. She put a hand over her stomach. Guilt settled heavy in Eleanor’s heart as she realized she hadn’t been considering her sister-in-law’s plight. While Joanna, the Duchess of Ely, was unwell in her new condition, Eleanor had been terribly focused on herself.

“I’m afraid I shall retire early. You will have to tell me everything in the morning. Find courage, Eleanor, and you could very well enjoy yourself,” Joanna promised her with a hopeful smile.

Seeing the exhaustion in her eyes, Eleanor could only nod. “Yes, yes, I promise. Go, then.”

“I’ll return momentarily,” Nicholas reassured Eleanor and Nancy before leading his wife away.

The duke and duchess made a beautiful and stately pair, arm in arm as they took their leave. She watched them go, envious of their match. Never had Nicholas been so happy. Perhaps someday she would find someone who might adore her half as much as her brother did his wife.

“Goodness, it is him.”

Nancy’s breathless gasp steered Eleanor away. Curiosity abounded as she eyed her friend peeking through the plant leaves. “What is it?”

“Only the infamous duke, of course.”

“My brother?”

“No, no.” Her friend paused to look at her with a slight grin. “Ever since your brother married, I’m afraid he’s been forgotten. The ton can only hold onto gossip for so long. He is last year’s news and now we have someone new. I can hardly believe he’s returned. And he’s here! Do you think he actually has an invitation? Lady Windermere said he attended her card party without being invited. How daring he must be.”

The idea was unfathomable to Eleanor. She shook her head. This was her first event of the season, her own ball, and she would be more than relieved to have it as her last.

Perhaps I should allow Nicholas to arrange a match like he offered to do so this past spring. Then I wouldn’t have to join the season at all, not really. I could bury myself in a music room and pretend London society doesn’t exist. Now that sounds lovely.

“I don’t find that daring,” Eleanor mumbled with a sigh, picking up her fan again. This time it was less to do with her nerves than the heat. The day had been cool but too many people were here, making the ballroom quite stuffy. “It’s rude.”

“Only a rake would do such a thing, and a rake he is. All the gossip papers are talking about it. About him.” Nancy giggled, playing with her gloves. “I think we should walk about the room for a better look at him. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Leaving the potted plants left her numb to her toes. “I don’t think so. Why do we need to see a rake?”

“Because he is a rake! A handsome one at that. Windermere described him and I believe it must be him. He has quite a reputation. Of course, he’s not been in London for some time. Italy, I believe.”

Eleanor blinked as a faint thought came to the back of her mind. “Italy?”

“Yes, yes. Charming man. Oh! Look at him. He’s making Lady Theodosia blush. I didn’t know anyone could do such a thing.”

A charming rake from Italy? It couldn’t be…

Finding herself torn, Eleanor wanted to be certain it wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. Her heart thudded loudly, making her forget just for a moment how awful the musicians were this evening. Except she wouldn’t thank anyone for that, especially not the one now on her mind.

“It’s not a duke, is it?” she asked, her voice growing rough.

Nancy was losing patience from standing on her toes and peeking around the plant. Grasping Eleanor’s arm, she tugged her friend back into the fray. At once they were surrounded by people. Eleanor swallowed hard as she tried to stay close to her friend, worried about somehow drowning amongst all these strangers.

“It is indeed a duke,” Nancy murmured. “The infamous Duke of Salford, Lord Dominic Elkins. My, he is a mountain of a man. He has been in town for a month already and yet still hasn’t been seen in the company of a lady.”

Eleanor swallowed. “There are many ladies here tonight.”

“Yes, yes, but you know what I mean. The man is unattainable. Oh, but look at that dimple. What a charming imperfection. Do you think I could make him smile?”

A scoff escaped Eleanor before she could help it, slowing Nancy down. “Unattainable? He’s only a man, Nancy. And clearly one uninterested in young ladies and probably all of London. If he has been away in Italy, then there’s no reason for him to be here.”

Her friend faltered from their hasty stroll to stare at her. “I’ve never heard you speak of someone like that before. Can it be you do not like someone?”

Recalling then to keep her voice low, Eleanor cleared her throat and attempted to mind her manners. “I don’t dislike people, Nancy. That would be quite unfair of me. However, you esteem the gentleman too much having not known him. I can assure you any mystery you note about him is only a life; the man is arrogant and self-absorbed. He shows his dimple so there might only be more attention provided to him. He’s nothing more than a peacock strutting about showing his colors.”

“Then why is he greeting your brother?”

She stiffened. “He shouldn’t be. Where are they?”

Although Nancy pointed, Eleanor couldn’t see over the crowd. She huffed in irritation. Clenching a fist around her fan, she shook her head. “I’m going back to the plants, Nancy. It’s too crowded and I cannot… I simply cannot,” she choked off weakly before hastening away from the crush.

She hadn’t danced tonight, and prayed she wouldn’t be forced to. Already she’d declined the last two events. Why was it everyone could smile and enjoy themselves in a place like this? If only the evening was over.

They hadn’t even had supper yet. Eleanor sighed, reaching her favorite potted plant. No one had taken her spot. Maybe Nancy would return and maybe she wouldn’t, it hardly mattered right now. She just needed to be somewhere quiet. But now Joanna was retiring, and the Duke of Salford was here. Eleanor wondered if someone had it out for her. Had she sinned terribly to deserve this?

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite sparrow.”

Eleanor stiffened as she turned at the sound of the familiar voice. Finding Nicholas there was hardly a concern. Her brother could tease her all he liked. But it was the other duke who spoke, mocking her, that immediately earned her ire.

“What are you doing here?”

Though Nicholas’s eyebrows raised, he gave it a moment as though to see if she might amend that. When she didn’t, he cleared his throat. He must have thought people were watching or listening in the corner as he offered proper introductions.

“Lord Elkins, this is my sister, Eleanor, for whom we celebrate tonight as she joins society. Eleanor, you may remember Lord Elkins, the Duke of Salford?”

“Do call me Dominic.” He said it with a flourish and a wink.

How could I not remember him? A bit of a rake and a tidbit of blackguard, a friend always ready to get Nicholas into trouble––before disappearing.

Eleanor pursed her lips, offering a polite nod. “Your Grace.” They were not close enough to warrant her use of his Christian name. Nor would they ever be. She didn’t want to see him, let alone think of him at all. “Whatever are you doing here?”

“How could I be anywhere else on such a glorious evening as this one? I could not resist the opportunity to celebrate a fine lady such as yourself,” Dominic said cheerfully.

At his side, Nicholas sent him a sardonic look. “I’m beginning to remember why I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“Oh, never mind that.” Dominic chuckled. He splayed out his hands in surrender. “Nicholas, my old friend, I would never cause you trouble. Besides, I like your sister.”

But I don’t like you.

Pulling out her fan, she hardly gave him a look before turning. She flinched when her nose hit a leaf. Her cheeks heated. Had someone seen? Though she thought she heard a snort or chuckle, she didn’t turn back. This wasn’t quite a cut to the duke, but surely it would serve as a reminder that she didn’t care for him. Stomach fluttering, Eleanor wished again she was any other place than here.

“Come now,” Dominic said, sounding closer than he had a moment ago. “We have so much to catch up on. Five years is a long time.”

“Speaking of timing, I will have to check that supper is ready. You just missed meeting my wife,” Nicholas noted to his old friend. He was clearly distracted and left without another word.

Which left Eleanor at her plant and Dominic much too close. She thought she could smell him. Or was that the plant? Swallowing hard, she wished Nancy would return. From the corner of her eye, she saw a touch of maroon from Dominic’s coat. He must have come closer.

“You can go now,” she said with as much indifference she could muster. “You mustn’t think I need a nursemaid.”

“No, no, you’re a grown lady now. Up and about town, I see. It’s about time, my dear,” he said with fondness in his tone. She could hear that smile. His cheery, teasing, charming smile. That meant his dimples would be showing. It only annoyed her. “I knew you would take London by storm.”

As though I’m not hiding at my own ball. He understands nothing.

“You don’t know me at all, then,” she noted.

“Say it isn’t so. I could never forget someone as special as you, Lady Eleanor.”

She gave a short shake of her head, fumbling with her fan. It had been hours since she had eaten. She’d only had a glass of sherry since she was too nervous now to eat in front of anyone. Her stomach was most unhappy with her. “Don’t be ridiculous, Your Grace, for it isn’t as though you’ve saved a single thought in your head for myself or my brother. It’s been five years.”

There was a pause before he murmured, “I can hardly believe it. Five?”

Something about his tone made Eleanor hesitate. She swallowed, turning to look at him warily. It was the first time they’d seen each other in so long.

Was it possible he had grown since then, or had she merely forgotten how tall he was? But she recognized the brown hair, neatly clipped and faded neatly from time in the sun. And those eyes. No one could forget those golden eyes of his. Her gaze dropped to see the dimples, a strange fluttering taking place in her chest when she studied them.

“What a perfect homecoming it is, then.” His smile widened.

A rather wolfish smile, she mused, before frowning at him. All of his charming remarks could be saved for someone who might believe them. But she knew him better than this.

“Why are you really here?”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she groused, “you haven’t been here in five years. A duke is not meant to simply disappear like that. It isn’t done, Your Grace. But if you are back, then there is a reason. What convinced you it was time to come home?”

She watched as his lips curled around the word home, though she heard nothing. Those gold eyes considered her for a moment in such a serious and thoughtful manner she began to believe he might give her an honest answer. Something, at least, that might make sense in her head.

But then he smiled, and she lost hope. “Why, I returned for you.”

Eleanor scoffed for the second time that evening. “That’s absurd.”

“You know I only rise every morning with the thought of your pretty face keeping me going.”

Heat climbed up her cheeks. Her chest grew tight. None of this felt right to Eleanor but she didn’t know what she should do. He shouldn’t be able to say anything to affect her like this. No one should. The flirtations were too much for her. No one teased her like this, and it left her awkward and uncomfortable.

Looking away, she managed to say, “You shouldn’t say such things. It isn’t any more proper than it is true.”

He wouldn’t let up. Leaning forward, the duke tried to make her smile. “So it is proper? Proper as you, my lady?”

With a shake of her head, Eleanor muttered, “You’re a cad and a liar, Your Grace.”

He put a hand over his chest. “You shall break this very heart. How can you be such a cruel mistress? I can hardly believe this is how our first greeting goes.”

Though her cheeks heated, Eleanor stood her ground. She had played the fool once and wouldn’t do it again. There was little enough that mattered in her life these days. She wouldn’t let the past die unforgotten. Though Nicholas might forgive his old friend, she couldn’t.

“It is how it shall end. I’m afraid I’m unwell and must be excused. Good night, Your Grace,” she added in great haste. Without giving him a chance to make any final remarks, Eleanor took her leave.

The ball was too much. She’d attempted to enjoy herself but now her chest ached and she couldn’t think. Nothing felt right. Perhaps she was growing ill. Either way, she was able to quickly remove herself from the ball and returned to her bedchamber. She sent a footman to alert her brother that she had retired, knowing no one at the ball would miss her. Even Nancy, her dear friend, would have found other friends to keep herself company.

And Eleanor could collapse in her bed, finally alone.

Entirely, of course, at peace.