Page 11 of Seven Days with her Duke (Hearts of Whitmores #3)

CHAPTER 11

“ H e really can be quite charming,” Eleanor admitted with a slight frown. She glanced back at her maid as they sat on cushions before the fire, drying her long thick hair. It always took hours if the two of them didn’t focus on it.

“The duke? Charming?”

She gave a slight nod before wincing at the pull. “I’m just as disappointed as you are.”

“Is he charming to everyone or just you, my lady?”

Trying to find an answer for that had Eleanor replaying the past couple of days in Dominic’s company. Although they only had this week together, she was surprised to consider just how much she had come to enjoy being with him.

It didn’t even matter what they did over the time. Dominic had proven that with their picnic. He’d played chess with her after that, and they’d even read quietly in the library together until he left her alone for her supper, claiming he couldn’t monopolize her attention for another minute.

Such a dramatic man. I am surprised daily his household doesn’t die of shock or riot. And yet, how could they? I suppose he charms them as well. The man could charm a fish right out of the sea.

That was rather how Eleanor was beginning to feel––like a fish out of water. She could hardly think around Dominic. The way her heart would begin to thrum like a dramatic scale on the harp unsettled her.

Everything was much easier when they were arguing. Perhaps, she mused, they should go back to doing just that.

“My lady?”

“Hmm?” She hadn’t realized she had gotten lost in her thoughts. Twisting, she gave Rachel a sheepish smile. “What is it? I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

The maid gave her a pointed look. “Methinks you have someone on the mind. Strong emotions often intertwine, you know. Perhaps you never hated the duke in the first place. Have you considered that?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t hate him, I never did, only…”

Eleanor trailed off without knowing what she was saying. Or what to say. Nothing quite made sense to her. She bit her lip and frowned, wondering where to take her thoughts.

Didn’t I loathe him? Just last week at the ball, I didn’t have a single nice thing to say about him. Except that he was handsome and rather dastardly. I suppose they were rather unkind thoughts. And words. And yet…

“Rachel…”

“Yes, my lady?”

Eleanor gathered her courage to ask a daring question. The words tumbled awkwardly off her tongue. “Has there ever been a special man for you?”

A short chuckle sounded behind her. Brushing through the long dark curls, Rachel eventually answered, “Not really. Several special boys, but they never held my attention for more than a week or two.”

That wasn’t a very long time, Eleanor supposed––nor was her time with Dominic. She bit her lip. As she listened to her maid speak of passing fancies and boys who didn’t keep their promises, she began to work on convincing herself that the warmth inside her chest meant nothing.

“All done, my lady. Should you like your supper now?”

“I believe I shall.” Rising to her feet, Eleanor pulled on her dressing gown. Her eyes followed around her maid for a moment before she suddenly shook her head. “Rather, go on, Rachel. You may have the rest of the evening off. I can attend to myself here on out.”

Her maid studied her curiously before nodding. “I shall retrieve your supper tray first.”

“Don’t bother. I should like to see Cook and thank her for today’s picnic. I’m strong enough to carry my own tray,” Eleanor reassured her. “The harp, remember?”

When she had first received the monstrous-sized instrument, she’d always needed her maid or a footman to help her even move it an inch. But she’d grown adjusted and her arms had strengthened, so now she didn’t need such aid from anyone. Eleanor was quite proud of that; it made her feel like she could do anything.

“If you insist, my lady. Thank you.”

“Good night.”

Once she had pulled on her slippers, Eleanor padded out of her room with a brightly-lit candle. It didn’t take long for her to reach the dining hall and then the side stairs going down into the kitchens where she found Cook, Francis Larkey, moving about the kitchen with a remaining footman and scullery maid.

“My lady!” They all stopped to stare. “Is something amiss? We were just waiting on Rachel for your tray.”

She waved a hand. “Go about your duties, please. I dismissed her for the evening. I should like to do the same for you, though I know you won’t. Will you sleep in for me, Larkey, and enjoy your rest?”

Shaking her head, Cook just wrinkled her nose at the mere notion of not moving. “What is the use of rest? Benny here could use it, but he’s about to take his leave, and Jenna needs to finish the dishes. Perhaps she can start late tomorrow, eh?”

“Oh, I couldn’t––”

“Very well,” Eleanor said with a nod, winking at the sheepish young girl. Eleanor and Nicholas had operated with a very limited household during their time in mourning; Joanna had quickly doubled their numbers and brought the house to further rights. Jenna was one of many still uncertain about her hope of a long-term role here. “Enjoy your morning and you can begin at noon instead.”

The young girl offered an awkward curtsey. “Thank’ee very much.”

“Back to work you go,” Cook ordered. Her ruddy cheeks heated further as she raised an eyebrow at Eleanor. “You seem different. Is it from your company today? Fine gentleman. Duke, you know.”

Grabbing a stool to sit in front of her tray on the counter, she nodded. “I’m well aware he’s a duke. I grew up with him, do you recall?”

“Ah, I thought he was the one. And fancy that, the lordling coming around to sniff at your heels and admire you.”

Eleanor felt her cheeks heat up as she put down her bread. “Cook, you shouldn’t say such things. Besides, just because he was here doesn’t mean he came to admire me. We are simply…”

“Engaged?”

“Lovers?”

She shot Cook a look and ignored Jenna’s hopeful glance. “Friends. I was going to say friends.”

Snorting, the woman shook her head. She fixed her apron tied around her large waist before taking the last pot over to the scullery maid. While the young woman hastened about, Cook returned to her table to start wiping everything down. Biding her time, she’d cleared off the crushed herbs before saying anything.

“You can be friends with your suitors, my lady. Bold words, I know, but you seem to be bold yourself of late.”

“No, I’m not.” Eleanor said and then bit her lip. “Am I?”

“Very much so. And I’m glad to see it, for that’s a fine look on you. Don’t know if it’s the duke or your duke of a brother making you smile more, but the household is glad to see you in good cheer. There’s been too much heartache here.”

Cook indeed had the right of it. Their household had suffered long enough. Fortunately, Joanna had come into their lives. And now… Eleanor still hesitated over what came next for her small family.

While her brother would have his heirs with his happy wife, where would she be?

“Nicholas said he won’t force me to marry,” she blurted.

“That’s fine of him. But you want to marry.”

Sighing, Eleanor nodded. “I fear I do.”

“It’s a fine thing, marriage. I was married for a spell.” As Eleanor gaped at her, Cook merely shrugged her shoulders. “He passed before a year was out. Fine fellow. Awful at making food except for gooseberry pie. He could bake that very well. Eat your supper, my lady.”

She managed to get through a few bites of what sat on her tray while she watched Cook work. Most of the kitchen was clean, so now they had to prep a few things for tomorrow. Eleanor recalled the countless times she had sneaked away to watch everyone work in the kitchen. She loved this space. She could see everything going on and still be invisible.

“Did you love your husband?” she asked.

“Benny, fetch the lady a drink.” Cook nodded approvingly as Eleanor finished off her potato. “I did love my husband the best I could. Didn’t see there was a point in doing anything else.”

Accepting her drink, Eleanor sipped it. “And did he love you?”

“I certainly believe so. But not everyone says those words, you see. Actions tend to say more than words because it’s much harder to lie with our body than the tongue.”

Unbidden memories came to Eleanor before she could help it. For some reason, she couldn’t stop thinking of Dominic. Ever since he had returned, only days ago, he consumed every available space inside her mind.

And the trick of the matter was that they kept making more memories together.

She thought of the way he had protected her from Wilmington and how he defended her to the women at the ball and those at the horse race. Beyond protecting her, Dominic teased her gently of late to make her smile. At night she went to bed with aching cheeks.

If any other gentleman acted in such a manner toward me, then what would I be thinking? What would anyone be assuming? Goodness, I cannot for the life of me get him out of my mind.

“How did you know?”

Cook wiped her hands on a rag, eyeing her curiously. The woman didn’t have a silly bone in her body. She was serious, attentive, and always honest. “How did I know what? That he loved me?” Eleanor nodded. “I knew it in the way he touched me. I was a delicate flower to him. Can you imagine? And he was there when I cried or when I laughed. And I wanted him there. That’s how I knew.”

A gentle warmth blossomed through Eleanor. She took another sip before climbing off her chair. This sort of conversation could go on forever in the kitchen where someone was always moving or talking, but she had much to think on with Cook’s words. And her feelings. They would need some talking to as well if she was going to keep breathing.

Hopping down from her stool, she smiled and thanked her household before taking her candle back up to her bed chamber.

“Dominic.” She liked saying his name out loud. But it was an intimate sort of act, she knew, so she said it only when she was alone. The notion made her heart beat in a way she had never experienced.

All my life, I have been too shy and anxious to go for anything I might desire. Climbing trees and ripe apples and perhaps even friendship. Every time, I have convinced myself it was not worth it. That I was indeed better off for not having done it. I’ve let go of that desire, and yet here it sits inside me. What do I do?

Eleanor retired early to bed that evening but found herself tossing in her sleep, unable to stop thinking about a certain duke––and only further confused about what to do about the matter.