Page 17 of Seven Days with her Duke (Hearts of Whitmores #3)

CHAPTER 17

T here were a few good reasons to kiss Dominic when one thought about it.

He was a duke, after all. And something of a rake, which meant he knew how to kiss and how to make it a good one. Thirdly, she knew the man and quite possibly trusted him more than she should. A hard lesson she was to learn momentarily. But it had always seemed wise to share such an intimate act with someone she trusted. Besides, she was infatuated. She knew this about herself.

I’ve never heard him, nor anyone, so vulnerable. He meant it. Every word, I know it. The apology was clumsy but beautiful. What else could I do?

While Eleanor could very well go on with her list of why she’d decided to kiss Dominic, there was also a list of why she shouldn’t have kissed him.

One of the first reasons stood before her now.

All of the overwhelming and thrilling emotions that had been pounding in her chest now shifted into absolute horror. Heat climbed up her cheeks as she saw Nicholas with his teeth gritted and his eyes dark and filled with absolute animosity.

Nor was he the only one watching them. Too late, Eleanor realized what a fool she had been tonight.

It’s all because I don’t know this house. How was I to have known this was a linen cupboard and not a lady’s room or a parlor? There aren’t always footmen posted everywhere.

Still, even Eleanor knew an honest mistake could have dire consequences. Her father and brother had died in such a one; they’d been working on a new wing of their country house only a few years ago with their workmen when the roof caved in on them.

Even Nicholas was a prime example for he had been caught in a scandalous enough position with the woman who was now his wife.

Yet I doubt it’s half as scandalous as this.

Eleanor hadn’t been there in that moment. Both Joanna and Nicholas had mentioned it, however. They’d been embracing when Joanna’s stepmother and stepsister had come to visit the duke one morning.

This was entirely different. Slowly glancing about the hall––it appeared more crowded than when she had left it––Eleanor saw everyone looking their way. Eyes wide, mouths wider. A few women were polite enough to cover their lips with their fans fluttering before them; but it hardly helped since Eleanor well knew they were already gossiping.

“Get up,” Nicholas hissed through gritted teeth.

Frozen, her gaze shifted down to where he looked, down to the man she was straddling since he had broken her fall when the door he’d been leaning on gave way. She’d hardly had a chance to stumble into the light before they hit the ground.

Eleanor was uninjured, or so she suspected. She simply couldn’t account for how badly she was shaking.

Dominic in turned stared at her in such a way she couldn’t entirely read his thoughts. The idea twisted her insides. It was usually so easy to know what was on his mind. Was this the time for them to become strangers?

Squeaking when her elbow was grasped, Eleanor could only let her body follow as Nicholas pulled her to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her. It was different than the embrace she’d been in a second ago. She couldn’t help but compare. His purpose was entirely different.

Dominic had been warm. Licking her lips as she watched him bring himself to his feet, Eleanor couldn’t resist replaying the kiss they had shared.

Had it been one kiss or several? She didn’t know how people counted. Though she hardly knew what to do, Dominic had guided her so neatly. So well. She hadn’t finished her exploration but now realized she never would.

“Follow me,” Nicholas snarled to his friend before pulling Eleanor down the hall. She was stiff but obedient, allowing herself to be led into a room.

A private parlor with two lights already lit. This was what she had been looking for. Before her was a settee facing three chairs. Finding her knees weak, she started to sit before the door banged shut. The loud sound made her jump, and she turned to find Nicholas had shoved Dominic against the door.

“Nicholas!” she gasped.

He ignored her. “Traitor! What the devil have you done? That is my sister. How dare you betray my trust? What a sorry reprobate you are!”

“Wait,” Eleanor called out tentatively, her nerves making her voice break. “Please, it wasn’t… it wasn’t like that.”

When he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes were fiery. “And how could you be so reckless?”

“No, it wasn’t her fault,” Dominic protested. Then he winced like the weak lie it was. “I should have… I didn’t mean to. Honest, Nicholas.”

Her brother shoved him hard against the door one more time before stepping away. Not once did Dominic try to defend himself. He slouched back with a groan as though he knew he deserved nothing better.

Looking between them, Eleanor attempted to pull her thoughts together. Except her heart wouldn’t stop pounding and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

What have I done? What was I thinking? What have I done?

There was no answer to the horror ebbing uneasily through her. Feeling light-headed, she grabbed the back of a chair and tried to talk sense into her brother. If she could do that, Eleanor thought, then surely he could do the same for her and Dominic and all would be well.

“Nicholas.” She gulped. Putting a hand over her queasy stomach, she inhaled. “Please listen to me. He was only apologizing.”

“That’s not what apologizing is!”

Eleanor tried again. “We had a dance, Nicholas, and I left him. The two of us were only making amends.”

Somehow that wasn’t the right thing to say either, judging by Dominic’s choked breath. He rubbed his eyes and dropped his hands. Seeing Nicholas pointing at him, he shook his head like he already knew what her brother was about to say. But Eleanor had to wait, uncertain.

“You will fix this,” he said in a threatening tone.

She opened her mouth to tell him there was nothing to fix, that Dominic had already made his apologies. Then it hit her. Nausea roiled through her body. Half the ton would know by now that she had been locked in a tiny space with a duke. The way she had fallen on him on the floor… those faces…

Dear heavens. I am ruined.

“I can’t.”

She whirled around to hear Dominic say this weakly. Staring at him, she couldn’t think as he sent her a guilty look before escaping the room. The man slipped out like it was nothing. A strangled moan escaped her before she even knew what to think.

Bent on vengeance and anger and who knew what else, Nicholas stormed out of the room. She feared the worst and went after him.

“You’re not getting out of this,” her brother demanded of Dominic in the hall.

Seeing faces down the hall still watching them made her sick to her stomach. “Please,” she whispered. “Not here. Everyone can…”

Dominic was shaking his head. “I can’t. Nicholas, I…” The look he sent her was filled with agony. Absolute pain. It made her want to reach out to him before she realized what he meant. “I’m sorry.”

He means this apology, too.

“You dare?” Nicholas snarled before pulling off his glove and slapping it across his friend’s face. The snap it made caused Eleanor to flinch. She could practically feel the burn on her own cheek. “Then call a second because I will not let you see dawn if you cannot be a gentleman.”

The world had been too slow a moment ago, but now it was much too fast. Eleanor liked a swift carriage. Whatever this was, however, she could not endure.

“No, please. I…” Eleanor glanced again at the people before hurrying between the men. Neither of them looked her way as they stared at one another. That must have been why they let her take them by the arms, shoving them back into the parlor for an ounce of privacy.

Once the door was closed, Dominic quietly said, “So be it. Pistols.”

The thought left her chilled and she shuddered. That could never be allowed to happen.

She choked. “No, this cannot happen. The two of you are friends.”

“What of your honor?” Nicholas demanded sharply, looking her way without really seeing her. “You will have justice. He will not besmirch your name, our name. She deserves better, Dominic, and we both know it. Why can you not be a better man?”

“Because she deserves someone better,” he said roughly, dropping his gaze. “You know I swore to never marry. This is your sister. Your sister, Nicholas, blast it all. It’s clear I’m nothing more than a cad and would never deserve her.”

So that was why he didn’t wish to wed her. Confusion swirled within Eleanor as she tried to make sense of this.

She swallowed. “Is that the only reason?”

“I cannot love you,” he told her with conviction. His eyes never met her gaze, hardly reaching her chin. “You should have someone else.”

There was such overwhelming emotion inside Eleanor that she didn’t think she’d ever understand herself anymore. But she grasped the politics of scandal and marriage and unhappiness well enough.

She knew what had to happen.

“Please,” Eleanor tried quietly and her voice broke. But she had never proposed to someone and didn’t know how to do it now. She hardly understood why she had to. “Dominic, it is better to be married to you than ruined entirely.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“Please,” she said. Like it didn’t threaten to kill him.

Such pretty words. Gritting his teeth, Dominic stared at the soft movement of Eleanor’s throat when she waited for his reply.

He hated that word. It was easier than hating her. As for hating himself, that was much too easy. That was a daily activity in which he frequently engaged in morning, noon, and night. The pain of the past was never far from him.

This too, would eventually be the past. It would be buried in everlasting shame that would haunt him for the rest of this days.

It had only been a kiss. A glorious kiss, but one that sentenced him to utter darkness. His chest ached as he tried to piece together his options.

There weren’t many options. Two that he could count. He would die in the morning––Nicholas was not about to let him live after this, no matter their history––or he could marry Eleanor.

What a pretty neck she had, so slight and soft under his touch. He’d only had a moment to touch it in their kiss. Softer than silk, she was, and twice as lovely.

But never for the likes of me.

“Dominic,” Nicholas said harshly. “What is it to be?”

He swallowed hard, shaking his head.

How could a simple apology have gone so wrong? All of London would know by dawn what he had done. It was one matter to be a rake, to charm the ladies of London with quiet liaisons and flirt with the widows. But he wasn’t a green lad any longer, and the only lady on his mind lately was Eleanor.

If he fell to his knees and begged her, would she give up her request?

He couldn’t bear to look her in the eye. Not after that. It hurt to think about her. If he met her gaze, he would be consumed in the memory of their kiss. Then he would be forced to remember their embrace. How well she fit in his arms. How sweetly she tasted like cherries and cream. How she had clung to him, innocent and brave.

Swallowing hard, Dominic gave a shake of his head.

Someday Eleanor would understand. She would marry a proper gentleman and have the marriage she needed and adored. A polite gentleman who would buy her every instrument before begging for rides in a carriage, laughing and obeying which she wanted to drive. He would encourage her to attend ladies’ salons and make friends, always finding new ways to make her smile while he listened to whatever music she played and told him about the books she read.

There was a man like that out there for her. Dominic had to believe that. It simply wasn’t going to be him.

Because marrying him, after all, would be far from honorable. All he had was a cold estate, pain from the past, and excitable rumors from the man he used to be. Maybe he still was, which was even worse.

This situation was spiraling out of control. Every second had him panicking, looking for a way out, even though every road let him right back to where he belonged. And he knew it just like he knew he would not live through tomorrow.

It’s the only way to protect her.

“Nicholas,” Eleanor started again, trying to get close to him.

Her brother stood in her way. That was good of him, Dominic tried to tell himself. The man only wished to protect his sister. They were close and needed each other. They were the last of the line, after all, and had already lost so much.

She shall forget about me before the year is out, of course. Nicholas will know how to take care of her. He’ll tease her, I hope, and make her smile and forget me.

It was a thought meant to reassure him but Dominic was surprised at the pang it caused. He didn’t want her to forget him after all.

“I must keep you out of harm’s way,” he forced himself to say.

A shaky breath escaped Eleanor. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Growling, Nicholas gave a shake of his head. “Don’t talk to her. Move, Eleanor.” He nudged his sister back before putting his glove back on. That reminded Dominic of the stinging in his cheek.

But he didn’t mind. He knew he deserved it. Part of him wished Nicholas would have used his bare fist. That was the least he deserved. Even now, he would accept a beating. He wouldn’t fight back. He knew he deserved it, just like he had known he shouldn’t have followed Eleanor into the linen cupboard.

It was just a linen cupboard. What a clever trap it turned out to be.

Straightening up, Nicholas glowered at him. “Is this really the path you choose?”

Dominic raised his hands in surrender. “I don’t know what else I could do, Nicholas.”

A squeak escaped Eleanor and he made the terrible mistake of looking at her. She looked ill, pale and shaky as she stared at him. But then she turned away like she couldn’t bear to look at him for another second.

That was what he deserved.

It stung. Everything about this hurt. His backside from the fall, his cheek from the slap, every word from his friend, and every look from Eleanor. Dominic knew it didn’t matter any more if there was a heaven because he would never have a chance to go there.

What could I do, trap Eleanor? She deserves so much better. She wants love. She needs it. Though she denies it, we both know she wouldn’t marry just any fellow. Just like she wouldn’t marry someone like me. My past is tarnished and my heart is full from whole. I could never make her happy.

That last thought made him wish he could weep.

“Dominic,” Nicholas demanded of him, “I’m not letting you run from this. This will be the scandal of the season. Of the year! Napolean could take over all of Europe and everyone would still speak of what they just saw out there. You will not run from this. Either you marry her, or you meet me at dawn.”

Eleanor tried to answer for him. “He won’t, he doesn’t––”

Shaking his head, Dominic knew he couldn’t have her defending him. He deserved nothing. “Do you think I want this?” He reached up to shove Nicholas but dropped his hands in time to stare at them. “Do you believe this is for the best? Eleanor and I? Is it best she is chained like chattel to a man like me for the rest of my life.”

“I had higher hopes in a husband for her,” Nicholas admitted freely. “But there are consequences.”

“I’ll ruin her.” Dominic wished he could make his friend understand even as he could see Nicholas never would. Sense hardly mattered when it came to polite society. Rules mattered more. Nicholas would probably rather Eleanor die a spinster but he would follow the dictates of the beau monde to protect her first. “I’ll ruin her, Nicholas. She deserves someone better, someone who can give her a proper life with happy days––”

“And you think letting her be ruined by society is better? She just said she would accept you. It is no one’s fault but your own now what happens next. How could you be so reckless? You coward. You would rather wallow in self-pity than do the right thing.” He stepped closer, every word dropping with malice. “If you care for her at all, you’ll marry Eleanor.”

For a moment, Dominic tried to imagine it.

He tried. He did. But all he could see was Eleanor wandering his halls aimlessly, lost and troubled. He could see the strings of her harp breaking and her fingers bleeding. While working in his study, he could hear her weeping through the walls of loneliness.

Supper parties where she talked to everyone but him. Days and weeks and months where they didn’t speak to each other. Returning to London after spending a year on the continent, only for them to argue recklessly for hours before she had him removed from the house. Her tears. So many tears of her loneliness and her embarrassment of his family name and the shame of being his wife.

I couldn’t do it to her. I couldn’t. I would rather than die than see her suffer at my hand.

“Nicholas…” Dominic looked to his friend. Former friend. He willed him to understand before looking at Eleanor.

She had never appeared more lost.

It reminded him of the third time they met; she’d been brave with his horse and then shy when her brother properly introduced them the second time.

But the third time, she had attempted to follow after the two of them when they went to climb trees in his orchards back when they were thriving. It didn’t take long for anyone, especially a young girl, to grow terribly turned around. Soon she was lost. She had been too far at first for him and Nicholas to hear her cries. When they finally heard her, and went after her, Eleanor had been a terribly wet mess that haunted him for weeks until he found a way to make her a smile again.

Biscuits dipped in chocolate and a clever tease at Nicholas’s sake had done the trick. He had been so proud of himself then.

Today, Eleanor was a far cry from a little girl. But she was still distraught and couldn’t possibly begin to imagine everything he knew and all he had done. If he told her, she would be horrified. Disgusted. Ashamed.

And he couldn’t bear it.

“I can’t. I can’t,” he told Nicholas, fearing his voice grew weak. He needed them to understand. “This isn’t right. You know it isn’t.”

“I know it isn’t right; why can’t you do the right thing?” Nicholas demanded, giving him a push.

He accepted it with frustration. Shaking his head, Dominic feared they were going in circles. It made him want to strangle Nicholas. The man knew his mistakes, his misdeeds. And yet he would thrust his sister onto such a man?

“I don’t deserve her,” he tried one last time.

“Dominic,” she started.

That only lit the fire back in Nicholas. He shot Eleanor a swift look that silenced her at once. Turning back to Dominic, the man gritted his teeth. “It isn’t about who deserves what. It is about honor. And I will see you on the fields at dawn. You said pistols?”

Dropping his gaze to the gloved hand that had slapped him only moments ago, Dominic offered a weary sigh. He was an awful shot. Not that he would try. He already knew he would raise his pistol to the sky. It was Nicholas who could hit any target he desired with his eyes closed shut. And Dominic made a very easy target for him now.

“Pistols, yes. I’ll find a second and my physician before then,” he added, forcing himself not to react to Eleanor’s muffled cry.

It was a fitting punishment for his crimes.

If this is what it takes to spare Eleanor, then so be it.