Page 27 of Seven Days with her Duke (Hearts of Whitmores #3)

CHAPTER 27

D ominic locked the door to his study before collapsing onto his chair in a hapless heap, spent of energy after prowling about the room in discomfiting silence for the entire morning.

He had meant to go for a ride but had nearly crossed Eleanor, and couldn’t bring himself to talk to her.

Just remembering their last conversation had him cringing. The one before that as well, before he’d thrown himself into the streets to the mercy of the weather. Even men hale of health could die from a fever. He didn’t know what he had been thinking, rambling around like that. And matters had hardly improved when he’d been rude to Eleanor after she had nursed him back to health.

Why did she do that? She didn’t have to. She shouldn’t have.

“Ridiculous,” Dominic muttered to himself before grabbing a marble paperweight and flinging it across the room.

It hit the high-backed chair by the fireplace, falling quietly and harmlessly onto the seat. The lack of noise and chaos upset him further though he didn’t know what to do about it.

“What will you do?” his father had mocked him once when he was a young man. “Cry your childish tears for your mother to mop up? Throw a tantrum on the floor? Perhaps you need another wet nurse. Get yourself out of my sight.”

Dominic grimaced at the sound of the voice he had never been able to quite get out of his head.

Nor his mother’s, though he found hers much sweeter.

“You must forgive him, my darling. He’s only lost. But he will find himself here back with us. You can be certain of that. We are his family. Don’t forget we are all family here.”

Her soft words, as they often could be found, were accompanied with a tear-stained smile that never failed to break his heart.

Growling as he felt the flood of memories he’d spent years locking up beginning to spill free, Dominic rose from his chair. He couldn’t just sit there. Anger seemed to boil in his veins. His bones itched. Heat and chill wrapped him in a tight embrace that left him hardly able to breathe.

He ducked his head out the hall.

There was a maid passing by just then in the nearest hall that led to the kitchens. She carried a tea tray. Dominic slapped the wall with relief, making her jump, before she carried on. She had to be taking that to Eleanor who must have been busy elsewhere.

Which gave him the escape he needed.

Dominic took off, not caring he didn’t wear the proper breeches and boots for riding. His morning garb would have to do. Out into the stables he went, readying his horse and taking his leave.

Fresh air stung his cheeks and nose. He pressed forward, leaning how in the saddle while giving his horse room to race. The creature took it gladly. Though he garnered fierce looks on the lanes he passed, Dominic didn’t slow down. He needed to go. It didn’t matter where, he just couldn’t be right there.

Time passed as he forced himself to press through the memories. His father’s constant run of mistresses who nearly bankrupted their family twice had broken his mother’s heart constantly. She tried so hard to build them a family. Dominic had sought constantly to escape the house, exploring the outdoors and making friends with the stableboys and the neighbors on the surrounding property, Nicholas and Eleanor.

Even his absence had never been enough to shut out the truth. How his father had little heart to care for his family.

Such an undeniable truth had settled silently but ruthlessly into their family. His brother, the heir, buried himself in knowledge and financials to refill their coffers; it had undeniably worked very well. Then his sister, terribly young but so fierce she could be heartless, was determined to make an ideal match in her first season to royalty no matter the cost it required of her or anyone else.

And then there was him. Clumsy as a child and unable to manage himself, let alone his horses. He’d grown up to be just as awful as the rest of his family. All of them except his mother.

It was but a small blessing that she passed first. She wouldn’t have survived any more of her heart breaking. We never should have expected her to survive as long as she did in the first place.

Dominic rubbed his face after bringing his horse to a standstill. They were back near his house––and for the better, as the animal was slathered in sweat. Both of them were breathing heavily. He glanced around, uncertain of how long they had been gone. Although he could have gone for one more race through town, he didn’t want to ruin his horse.

“Just another one,” he said with a scowl under his breath.

Dominic was too worn down by the time he reached the mews of his house to remember just how pale his mother always grew when she cried. He needed to forget. At least for now. Because if he could forget that, forget her, then it gave him hope to eventually forget everything else that made his chest ache.

Like Eleanor.

He shouldn’t have talked to her like that when he was on the mend, sending her away from him. He could have been more polite if not kinder.

Except he couldn’t bring himself to even look at her. Shame and embarrassment warred over him. He’d only been ill because of his own foul behavior. If something had happened to him, he would have deserved it. Then he deserved it thrice over for the way he had previously kissed her and for being cruel to her afterward.

I’m confusing her as well as myself. I cannot keep doing this, we cannot keep doing this dangerous dance.

Even if he did manage something of an apology, Dominic had no doubt he would make another mistake afterward. What was the use? He was worthless and nothing, but a rakish lout meant to harm everyone around him.

“Your mail, Your Grace,” his butler said while offering a few pieces of paper up on a platter.

Dominic stopped where he stood in the hall. He eyed the paper with distaste, uninterested in having anything more to overcrowd his desk. He intended to return right there and not be seen again for the rest of the day if he could help it. “Invitations?”

“None, Your Grace.”

Accepting the papers, he nodded to his man before returning to his study. It was a swift walk with a careful ear attuned to his wife; fortunately, she never appeared.

As much as Dominic despised how he had come to living a life where he avoided someone like this in his own home, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He didn’t know what he would do in Eleanor’s company––only that it would not be very good. His record thus far had showed such proof.

Back in his study, he took to his chair in the corner where it wasn’t quite so brightly lit by the nearby window. He sorted through envelopes before recognizing one. Everything was tossed aside but that one, a message from Nicholas.

His friend had used the official seal and fine paper for a very short note. Dominic was puzzled until he read the words.

‘Dominic, Joanna has given birth to the tenth Duke of Ely. He is named Lionel Roger Whitmore. Two months early, but he is hale and very, very opinionated. We could not be prouder. We look forward to the time you two can meet. Your Brother, Nicholas.’

He read the letter several times over until it slipped from his fingers as he lost himself in a daze.

How could he have forgotten? But he’d hardly met the duchess. Dominic had returned only for business. He never meant to get caught up in social affairs, let alone wind up married. The continent was a place that left him free to avoid the past in more ways than one––as well as avoid the future.

But here I am. With a wife I never picked, a wife who didn’t want me. As well she shouldn’t. She didn’t care who she married only that her reputation was secure. Now her brother is doing what he is meant to do, raising a family and bringing up an heir. And he has been happier than I could ever recall him being. Besides from the times he was ready to end me in a duel, of course.

His gaze fell down to the letter lying at his feet. Thick white parchment with a dark blue ink. A weighty seal stamped with the Ely family crest.

As silence settled low around him, Dominic found himself growing sick to his stomach. Nicholas had been much like him when they were younger. Restless energetic young lads at school before taking on London, carousing about at all hours with no limits or rules. They’d done as they liked for a very long time.

Then he had lost everything.

What else could he do but everything he knew? London had been too stifling. Everyone knew how he had lost his family one after the next. He’d hardly had time to grieve as bewilderment settled upon him. And then responsibility sat on his shoulders. He had no choice but to leave, knowing what fate he might have if he dared to stay.

The very fate he was trapped in now, in London with Eleanor.

“Don’t love me,” she had told him that fateful morning. “I will marry you and I will not expect your heart or a warm house or one ounce of your heart.”

Dominic slouched over in the chair. He buried his face in his hands, wishing he could block out all of those moments in his head.

Her voice wouldn’t leave him alone and it echoed in his mind. “We can have a marriage without expectation. Give me a house and I’ll never talk to you again,” she had said. “I’ll not ask you for a thing. No requests or demands or obligations. I won’t even ask for your fidelity.”

The few requests Eleanor had since made in their marriage were paltry compared to most. Moreover, she expected little enough from him.

“It remains too much,” Dominic told the letter with misery thick on his tongue. “I cannot give that to her. She will hold your child and know she will never have one.”

Eleanor deserved children. She would be a splendid mother. Doting and kind and generous. Already he could picture her with dark-eyed dears scampering all about while she played her music for them or read fairy tales and patiently answered their questions. She’d scold them for being naughty before wrapping them up in her arms as they were already forgiven.

She deserves children but I will not give them to her. How could she resign herself to a fate like that so readily when she knew she deserved more? I wasn’t worth a minute of her time.

The knots in his stomach grew worse as Dominic feared that Eleanor wasn’t the only one who might desire children.

Because he wanted them, too.

Letting her come into his life like this was like planting the seed of something poisonous. It grew and blossomed into something he didn’t deserve, didn’t get to have.

He’d love to be there amongst the children, holding them and showing them just how talented their mother was at the harp. He could chase them through the halls to lead them right to her. They would look just like their parents. Two of them. No, four. Eight, perhaps.

Dominic groaned and scrubbed at his face as though he could get thoughts of a nonexistent future out of his mind. He didn’t deserve Eleanor and children couldn’t be forced into a world the way he had been.

It’s for the best.

He couldn’t do what his father had done. He refused.

Still, he was married, and that couldn’t be helped. Divorce could never happen––he wouldn’t shame Eleanor that way. But there was nothing else they could do. They were tied to this life together no matter what.

And if I’m going to manage this in any way, I need to keep my head. I need to keep my distance. That is what is best for us. Before it can get any worse, I have to do whatever I must to keep her safe and far away from me.

Dominic stewed over his options for the rest of the day while he sat there alone in his study. Though his staff knocked several times to offer tea and trays and such, he didn’t unlock the door. No one attempted to unlock it either.

Eventually, his body demanded movement. His muscles were stiff as he rose to his feet. The letters he’d forgotten about tumbled to the ground.

Picking them up, he found one he hadn’t opened in the mix––the last of the lot, forgotten about once he saw Nicholas’s letter.

I’ll have to send my congratulations soon. And Eleanor will know by now. She’ll be thrilled, I’m sure. Envious, I’m afraid.

He stewed over that as he opened the untouched missive. The thin color seemed a faded pink. He remembered something about it, vaguely, until he saw the signature on it once the paper was unfolded. His heart near stopped. A lump formed in his throat, but he managed to swallow it quickly once he read the couple of lines.

‘My Most Gracious Duke Dominic, whatever hope you might have had to resume my acquaintance shall straightaway be forgotten. I do not take kindly to such harsh manners like those of your apparent duchess. You may forget me for I shall very much like to do that of you. The One and Only Dinah Rose.’

“What the devil?” Dominic muttered even as a chuckle escaped him.

It made no sense and yet… Yet the message was clear. The opera singer had moved on from him at last. Perhaps she had thought to reach out to him again, and Eleanor had been there to intercept the woman.

He felt shame in the corner of his mind, having Eleanor know about Dinah Rose. The awareness did not bring him comfort. His past was an uncomfortable mess he was trapped with––and now she was as well.

Except she didn’t weep, and she didn’t run. She fought.

“My fierce lady,” he said quietly before crumpling the letter and tossing it aside. He had long since let the opera singer go. But there was no denying he’d keep this in mind of Eleanor. Hopefully someday he would be able to ask her just what she’d said to keep the other woman at bay.

While Eleanor should not have had needed to know or even think about Dinah Rose, she has yet again proved herself. Better than anyone I could have expected to know in my life. Better than I deserve.

He stepped outside of his study, feeling much better now than he had when he had stepped inside earlier that day.

“Your Grace!” Reginald stood at the end of the hall. They were a distance apart, but Dominic could have sworn he felt a strong semblance of relief. The man started toward him quickly as though not to miss him. “What perfect timing you have. Supper is still hot if you’re interested?”

“I could manage a bite or two.” He didn’t recall eating earlier. “Why don’t you tell me what’s on the menu?”

The two of them crossed to the next hall, turning toward the dining room. His butler talked about the food as well as other items of business that Dominic attempted to listen to. He did. But his mind was wandering and all thoughts went out of his head when the doors opened just before they could reach them, and Eleanor appeared.

“Oh.” She blinked at him several times before glancing at the butler. The young lady looked very lovely in her simple dress. He realized dimly it was the one he had married her in such a short time ago. “Your Grace. Are you coming to supper?”

He admired her fine form but couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze, silently cursing himself for such behavior. “Yes. Are you going to eat as well?”

If she took any irritation on his rude question, Eleanor never showed it. “I’m afraid I finished my share of the meal. But I would be happy to join you for my tea to have some company this evening.”

“No need.” He bit his tongue, but it was too late to take back his response. Dominic didn’t know how he could fumble his words so badly. He was a grown man, a duke, not a fool. When Eleanor turned to go, Dominic noisily cleared his throat and she froze. He searched for something to say. “Nicholas. Joanna. Their child, it was––it was born today.”

“Yes, he was born. I can hardly believe it.” There was a catch in her breath that had him looking to her at once, only to see Eleanor’s starry gaze. The old ache in his chest returned. He watched her smile. “Isn’t it wonderful? I do hope to see them soon. I believe my brother and Joanna are beside themselves with joy.”

As Reginald stepped away from them, Dominic nearly grabbed him to keep a buffer there in the conversation. But it wasn’t the butler’s place.

So he stood alone. “Indeed. I can hardly wait until Nicholas has to put up with the same antics we put on when we were children.”

For some reason, that made Eleanor giggle. “He shall certainly have his hands full. Joanna penned a note telling me she already wishes for a full nursery, she feels such joy.”

Dominic’s throat constricted. “Ah. Well. She… she deserves it.”

“Perhaps I––”

“Reginald,” he cut in, suddenly no longer able to handle Eleanor’s cheery presence. He couldn’t bear to let her smile in his direction. “I’m afraid I just recalled a letter I must make some serious corrections to before I send it off. Can you have a tray prepared for me?”

The butler seemed to hesitate before he grudgingly said, “Yes, Your Grace.”

Glancing back over her shoulder, Eleanor shifted lightly as though she could feel the tension radiating off his body. Dominic didn’t know if that was a good sign. But he went ahead and took a step back.

“Good night, darling,” he said while turning around to take his leave.

It wasn’t until much later that he realized he had used a pet name he had already used too often and had never meant for Eleanor to hear aloud.