Page 23 of Seven Days with her Duke (Hearts of Whitmores #3)

CHAPTER 23

S omething had changed under his roof.

Dominic spent three days away, sleeping at his club or in borrowed apartments. He considered purchasing another place for himself but wasn’t willing to put in the effort.

Upon his return, he stepped inside and could feel energy in the air. It felt electric. Someone had been struck by lightning. The footman before him offered a polite bow and readily accepting his hat and walking stick and overcoat with ease. Another face Dominic didn’t recognize.

“What is going on here?” he demanded.

Grinning as though he knew something, the footman offered another polite bow. “Welcome home, Your Grace. What can I do for you?”

“I want an answer, that’s what I want,” he said through gritted teeth.

That broke through to the young man who began to frown, clearly puzzled. But he was saved as Reginald came around the corner. The man must have been moving since he was red in the face and out of breath. Clapping his hands, he beamed.

“Your Grace! Is something amiss?”

Dominic felt a migraine coming on, fearing he would never be free of them. He’d stopped drinking the brandy. That wasn’t doing him any favors. But he hardly knew what else to do with himself––especially when his servants were not paying heed to him.

“I want to know what is going on,” he said. “What is it?”

A short chuckle escaped Reginald like it was a jest. “It’s a day filled with sunshine, Your Grace. The house is clean, we’ve cleared the west row of gardens, and the cellar is restocked. Your house is settled.”

“There’s no one else here?”

“No one, just your household.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What about her?”

Dominic still had yet to call her his wife. He feared to do so. Once he did, he believed, it would make everything much too real. That couldn’t be allowed to happen. Already he had ruined enough.

Fortunately, the household knew of whom he spoke. The two servants exchanged looks before Reginald said, “Her Grace is in the kitchens.”

“Doing what? The menus?”

“No, she’s––”

Reginald spoke over the footman. “Yes, Your Grace. The menus.”

Except that she couldn’t be, judging by the look the two servants sent each other. Some sort of secret code that a duke wasn’t meant to know. He frowned and started off, thinking to go to his study. It would be quiet there; as long as he closed the door, he would be left to himself.

However, his feet had another idea in mind. Before he knew it, he was climbing down the narrow stairs leading him down to the three rooms and hidden courtyard that made up the kitchens here.

A bevvy of happy chattering voices sounded, growing louder as he neared. Several bodies were located the nearest rectangular table where all of them were mixing various doughs.

“Hazelnuts! Now why did I never think of such a thing?”

“Isn’t it scandalous?”

“I do like nuts in my scones. They had something both a little sweet and a little salty,” Eleanor was sharing with a hesitant smile. She blushed as the cook beamed down at her, a large ruddy fellow Dominic had brought back from France. “But they’re not always easy to come by.”

Cook tsked with a sympathetic shake of the head. “Perhaps not, but we have our ways. Most often one needs to look outside of England for the best foods. France, you know, has the best herbs.”

“And spices?”

“Ah, no, that would be the far east. I dreamed of traveling there as a lad, thinking I might see the world and taste the best foods in the world. I may have grown up, but the dream remains.”

“I hope you get the chance someday.”

Her eyes widened when he shook his head. “That’s the thing about dreams. They don’t always come true.”

“Oh. I suppose not.” She rubbed her cheek only to get a dusting of flour trapped there. She looked like a darling milkmaid, her hair all curly and an apron around her waist. “Dreams are… lovely… things.”

Everyone turned to where she was looking, which was up at him. He pursed his lips and glanced away from her. The two scullery maids ducked their heads but Cook met him head on with a raised brow. Cook, like Reginald, had more pride than he knew how to manage somedays.

“You’re all rather busy,” he said at last when no one else spoke.

While the other maids curtsied and turned away toward the oven, Cook grunted. “Of course we’re busy. Her Grace taught us a few new recipes and we’ve the need to test each of them out.”

“What a busy lady she is,” he noted.

“Busier yet,” she managed to say after a small delay. From the corner of her eye, she forced a smile. “There’s a musicale tonight at Charlotte and Adrian’s. Your invitation should be in your bedchamber; I’ve asked your valet to put out––”

He interrupted. “I don’t think I’ll be going.”

When he turned to go, however, she was still talking. “We’ll be expected. We are newly married.” The words sounded tough and strained in her mouth. “It is expected of us.”

Pursing his lips, Dominic reluctantly nodded. He stared at the wall for a minute and then climbed back up the stairs wishing he hadn’t bothered going down.

Still, I wasn’t wrong. That encounter just proved me right. Something is up. Eleanor is up to something. Trying to engage us in society. As if that would make everything right? She knows what will be said, surely. The chatter. The gossip. The pointed looks. It will instead make everything worse. What she doesn’t know already about me will come out in time until she can’t stand to be even in the same room as myself.

The bitterness pulled and poked and twisted at Dominic all through the afternoon. He penned a few matters regarding final property sales to his secretary, took a long bath until he was near shivering, and eventually began to dress.

When it was time for the musicale, he came down to the mews to find Eleanor already waiting for him.

“They’ll want you to perform, I’m sure,” he told her.

Her lips pressed into the frown he had anticipated. She wouldn’t want this to happen. She couldn’t manage the attention. It would surely be enough to keep them at home now instead of wasting their time out and about.

“No,” she said quietly instead as their carriage came around. “Charlotte reassured me that will not be the case. You look very fine this evening. It’s a splendid coat.”

Dropping his gaze to it, he couldn’t think of much to say to her now. “It’s new.”

“I know.”

All he could do was stare as Eleanor was helped into the carriage by a footman instead of him. He followed, knocking knees with her on accident before settling back. They were quiet on the ride over and were soon sitting in one of the large parlors that belonged to Adrian’s family.

“There should be a smoking room,” he muttered.

“You don’t smoke.”

“I could.”

She didn’t look at him, but he saw the flattening of her lips pressing together. Of course that would upset her. He didn’t mean it, though. He didn’t know why he insisted on pressing her buttons. Why he had to aggravate her and prove his ill humor and unruly ways. It did neither of them any good.

“Prinny will be here in a moment,” Eleanor murmured when he started to fidget. “It’s one of the reasons why we are in attendance.”

“The Prince Regent? Why?”

She flitted her gaze to him before looking away. Tension radiated through her shoulders like she was preparing herself to do something. And then she stood and gestured to a footman who brought around a tray of drinks. A glass of champagne went to each of them.

“Everyone enjoys music,” Eleanor finally answered before taking a tentative drink.

Catching the twist of her lips after she took a sip, he saw she didn’t care for the drink. That didn’t bother him. He drained his in one go, the bubbles tickling his throat and nose. Then he switched their glasses so she had the empty one and he could enjoy a second.

That was the end of their conversation for the rest of the musicale. There was an already prepared program of several refined performers. Favorites among the ton and even professional troupes and––the finale of the evening was no other than Dinah.

“I need another drink,” Dominic said thickly, starting to rise.

“You can’t leave in the middle of…” She trailed off as he stumbled around her, their legs knocking into each other. He heard a shaky breath escape her but continued to go.

Eyes followed him. It was outrageously rude to be on his feet even if he wasn’t in the middle of the crowd. The song picked up and he heard Dinah hum sweetly. He remembered her more than he wanted to. Five years had passed, and she hadn’t been the only mistress, just the last one here in London. Irritation settled over his shoulders when he recalled her forcing her way into his house so recently. It had been easy to forget about her. So why did she keep showing up like she had to be remembered?

As nausea settled low in his stomach, Dominic required another drink and another. He wound up leaning against the wall as the musicale finally came to an end because he wasn’t sure if he could stand upright alone any longer.

Everyone began to mill around. More trays were brought about. He thought about finding something to munch on, but his tongue felt heavy and he wondered why he thought it would be good to start drinking again.

Then the reminder came around as a pretty little thing, dark-haired and dark-eyed with a glass of sherry and faux smile.

“I particularly enjoyed the quartet of sisters,” she was saying. He tried to place the person she spoke to. “The song they picked was just lovely.”

Chuckling, the older lady slipped her hand free of Eleanor’s once they had reached Dominic. “The song indeed was lovely, but you are much too generous, Your Grace, since not one of those girls were on key.”

Eleanor blushed and looked down. “They did their best.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure. One of them nearly fainted and I rather wish she had. It would surely have enlivened this evening some. But perhaps your husband here will do the trick for us. It appears he has enjoyed his fill of tonight’s festivities as well.”

The name finally came to him. “Lady Theodosia. A pleasure.”

She pointedly eyed his glass with a raised eyebrow. “It would appear so. Well, I have done my part for this evening. I’ve endured quite enough caterwauling, greeted the Prince Regent, and have an evening game of cards before I wrap up today. I trust you shall be well, my dear?”

“Certainly,” Eleanor blurted with false cheer. “We are very well, thank you. Just lovely.”

“Just lovely,” he echoed thickly as the lady took her leave.

A shaky breath escaped his wife. She watched the woman go, some sort of family friend, and then set her shoulders back. But Eleanor didn’t look back his way. Dominic waited as the air thickened about them, knowing there was something on her mind.

And why wouldn’t there be? She’ll be disappointed in me. Ashamed. Embarrassed. I couldn’t make it through one social soiree without being an insult to the family name.

“Perhaps we should take our leave,” she started but stopped as two other women came up to greet them. “Good evening, Lady Thompson, Lady Wilhemina.”

For the next hour, Dominic was trapped there alongside the wall with his wife. He remained silent and sullen, nursing his drink more slowly while the room spun. But Eleanor never moved. She exuded discomfort but wore a bright smile that brought everyone their way. Her spine was straight and her smile was well practiced as countless people greeted them with light conversation before another party replaced them.

“Finally,” he huffed once they were able to take their leave. Falling into the seat, he shook his head. Sick to his stomach, the drink loosened his tongue. “You didn’t have to talk to everyone.”

“It would have been rude not to,” Eleanor murmured while picking at invisible dust on her dress from her seat.

He scoffed. “You don’t even like those people.”

“I don’t know them, that’s all.”

Shaking his head, he tugged at his cravat. The night was much too warm and his clothing too tight. Everything irritated him. He hated the way his skin itched when she looked his way. “You don’t know them and you don’t like them and you never cared about them. What is the point?”

“The point?” her voice was sharp. It was familiar and he appreciated the way it stung him. “The point is that we have expectations to meet. The point is to have friends and manage our social standing. The point is to prove that there is no scandal and no reason to keep us from society, Your Grace.”

“So you pretended to be someone else? I’ve never seen such acting, Eleanor. You could have been an actress, pretending you cared like that.”

Eleanor shook her head, sending him a scathing look before turning to look out the window. “I care enough that I wanted tonight to go well, that we could prove we could at least be presentable before society. My apologies, dear husband, for my mistake.”

“Well, good.” He floundered for words as he jerked his chin up. “I hope you learned your lesson.”

“Do be quiet, you drunken sod. You’ve done enough, haven’t you?” she demanded of him.

Lips pressing shut, Dominic feared she had a point. He had done enough. Hardly anyone had tried talking to him and for good reason. He’d said little to the guests and had needed Eleanor’s support to walk upright out the door. Their hosts had glowered at him then. Shame silenced him.

But it was always bound to happen. It’s just time she knew.