Page 28 of The Duke’s Ultimatum (Unrelenting Lords #1)

CHAPTER 28

E leanor sat while Sarah and her maid made sure every curl was pinned just so, and Charlotte adjusted the bow on the back of her dress.

“Mama, you were right; this dress is an absolutely beautiful color on Eleanor. It compliments her so well.” Sarah’s bright eyes peered over Eleanor’s head and met hers in the mirror. Eleanor heard the sentiment and wanted to acknowledge the sweet statement, but everything about this day felt wrong.

Her limbs felt heavy, her movements sluggish, and no smile was close to reaching her eyes.

She tried to force a smile for Sarah’s sake, but all she could manage was meeting her eyes in the mirror and giving a slight nod.

“Sarah? Why don’t you and Mary go check on everything downstairs.” Sarah and Mary exchanged a look before looking back to Charlotte. “And make sure Beatrice is dressed and ready. I would think asking her to leave her book and have her sister’s wedding be her only focus wouldn’t be too much to ask.”

Sarah bent over to kiss Eleanor on the cheek before she and Mary left.

Charlotte tapped Eleanor on the shoulder. “Come, stand up. Let’s get a proper look at you.”

Eleanor tensed and willed her legs to stand. Her mother walked her to stand in front of her full-length mirror.

“You are almost ready, my dear; there’s just one thing missing,” Charlotte said while she brushed out some wrinkles that had formed in the dress.

Eleanor’s dry eyes took in the sight in front of her. Sarah was right; normally this color would suit Eleanor’s complexion, but without a trace of color on her sullen cheeks, the normally beautiful mint green made her appear washed out. Her body didn’t feel like her own which would have normally made Eleanor laugh, considering after today, technically her body wouldn’t be hers. But she didn’t even have the energy to laugh at her own misguided jokes.

Derek would’ve laughed.

Eleanor’s eyes went wide, and a sharp pain cut through her already mangled heart.

“Eleanor?”

Eleanor eyes focused on her mother’s. “What? I was listening. You said I was missing something.” Eleanor looked down onto her dress. “What is it?”

Charlotte sighed. “You. You’re missing.”

Eleanor looked back up. “What do you mean? I’m right here.”

Charlotte shook her head. “No, dear. You’re not. You’re a million miles away. I fear this is not just cold feet.”

Eleanor waved her hand. Tears began to gather behind her eyes, but she willed them back. This was why she wasn’t doing anything more than necessary. Anything resembling functioning as a normal adult broke the fragile shield she built around herself since her talk with the Duke last night.

“It’s like you said. I’m nervous, anxious. I just want to get this over with and move on with my life.”

Charlotte stood at Eleanor’s back, and both women looked into the mirror. Even though it was well known Eleanor took after her father, her mother and her had the same eyes, and right now, her mother’s eyes were not buying Eleanor’s lie.

“Eleanor, what is wrong? Tell me. We can fix it.”

Eleanor bit her lips together, hoping to stop the tremble that was bound to happen if she continued to talk. She merely shook her head.

“If I can’t fix it, then perhaps the Duke can.” Charlotte’s words were like a slap across Eleanor’s face. Tears began to fall much to Eleanor’s dismay.

Charlotte turned Eleanor and wrapped her in her arms. “My child. What is it?”

“So much is changing, Mama.”

Charlotte hushed and rocked her daughter side to side, much like she did when she was a crying infant. “Hush now. It’ll all work out. I told you it will.”

The words didn’t soothe Eleanor’s broken heart. Eleanor only saw two ways of fixing her current state. The first one being the Duke admitting his feelings for her and taking her instead of handing her over to Simon and the second was if she had never met the Duke at all.

Eleanor continued to cry into her mother’s arms, hoping that this was the last time she would cry over the Duke.

Charlotte moved to take Eleanor’s face in her hands. “You listen to me, Eleanor. You are a strong, independent, proud, and intelligent woman. I’ve seen you work the ugliest crowds and turn them to your favor. Whatever life throws at you, I have no doubt you will come out on top. Trust the process, my love.”

Eleanor sniffled. “Thank you, Mama. I only ever wanted to make you and Papa proud.”

Charlotte let out a little laugh as she embraced Eleanor again. “Oh, my lovely, you absolutely made us proud.”

Charlotte pulled back and looked at her daughter. “Now look, your face is in quite a state.” She walked over to the vanity for some towels and powder.

Eleanor took a deep breath, settling her racing heart. She turned to the mirror and saw red blotches on her cheeks and her red-rimmed eyes. “Oh dear. I am in a state. Poor Simon. When he takes one look at me, he might reconsider his proposal.”

Eleanor hoped saying the joke out loud would elicit some response from her mind to get its act together, so she could adequately prepare for the day. Instead, it created an ill-intentioned iota of hope that the wedding wouldn’t go through.

“Nonsense. No man in his right mind would pass up on a prize such as yourself.”

Her mother’s words, meant to soothe, actually caused the shards of her heart that remained to be ground to dust. Eleanor squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to breathe and calm down.

Charlotte finished fixing Eleanor’s face and took a step back. “There. You’ve got some color back, I think you’re ready. I’ll give you a moment alone. I’ll go downstairs and gather your sisters, so we’re ready when you come down.”

Eleanor nodded to her mother. She took one last glance in the mirror. It was now or never. Everything she had ever done was for this moment in her life. She didn’t feel joy, and despite what she told her mother, she didn’t feel nerves. She felt empty.

Eleanor walked to her door, and with one more glance at her childhood room, she closed the door behind her. Her footsteps were heavy down the stairs where her mother and sisters were waiting for her.

She half expected the Duke to be waiting there with them, but he was nowhere to be seen. She opened her mouth to ask where he was but thought better of it. She assumed he would be in attendance. Although, she wouldn’t know what she would do if she had to stand in front of the Duke and become another man’s wife.

“Eleanor,” Beatrice’s voice was full of wonder and love. “You look exquisite.” Beatrice slipped an arm through Eleanor’s, and the two began to walk to the front door.

Eleanor managed a small smile. “Do you have a book?” she whispered to her sister.

Beatrice shook her head vigorously. “I do not. Today is reserved for my favorite sister.”

“Hey!” Sarah piped up from behind them as the two sisters walked ahead. “I heard that.”

Eleanor’s smile grew more intentional.

Charlotte sighed from behind all of them. “Enough of this, children,” she joked. “The carriages are waiting; we must make haste. We do not want to be late to the wedding.”

Beatrice bumped shoulders with Eleanor. “I doubt they’d start without the bride, Mama.”

The girls smiled as they approached the door. Just then, the study door opened, and the Duke entered the hallway.

Eleanor couldn’t tell what stopped first, her feet or her heart, but she found herself frozen in her spot, looking into desperate and longing blue eyes. Hesitation faltered her steps as Beatrice continued walking.

“Eleanor, why’d you—oh, Your Grace! Good morning!” Beatrice’s chipper voice rang out through the hallway.

The Duke said nothing but continued to look at Eleanor. He looked just as empty as she felt. But why? He said his peace. Eleanor expected anger to rise within her like it did that one morning at the breakfast table, but she was so emotionally exhausted she could only return his stare.

Beatrice gave Eleanor a little tug. “We must go, Eleanor.”

Eleanor broke eye contact and continued with Sarah and Beatrice, their mother right behind them.

Eleanor released a breath. The next time she would see the Duke, she would be Viscountess Hountshire. There was no comfort in that knowledge. The only solace she found was that she had read stories about longing and love, and if what the authors wrote were true, her feelings for the Duke would subside over time.

She just needed time.

Derek watched as Eleanor’s frame was swallowed up by the incoming sunlight that streamed through the open door.

“Are you coming, Your Grace?”

Derek hadn’t realized Charlotte did not follow her daughters out the door.

Derek lowered his gaze and adjusted the cuffs on his sleeves. He prepared for the day as if he was going to go, strictly in a professional capacity. Derek would be the Duke of Graynor overseeing one of his wards being married, nothing more, nothing less.

But after seeing her, he was not sure he could manage it.

“I’m terribly sorry, Charlotte, but something important has come up that needs my immediate attention.”

Charlotte frowned. “What a shame. I still stand by what I said last night. It would mean a lot to Eleanor if you would show up today.” Charlotte tipped her head towards the door. “I think more than you realize.”

Derek smiled sardonically. “I doubt I will be missed. Please send my apologies.”

Charlotte clucked her tongue. “As you wish, Your Grace. I hope your business matter resolves in a favorable acquisition for you. I know how upset you were with the loss of your last deal.”

Derek’s head snapped up to look at Charlotte, but she was already through the front door.

Derek turned back into his study and went immediately to the bar cart. He pulled at his cravat, tossing it to the side. He unbuttoned his shirt sleeves and rolled them up to his elbows. He untucked his shirt altogether and caught the sight of himself in the reflection of his window.

He stared at the disheveled man before him and barely recognized himself. He raked his fingers through his hair several times as a feral growl escaped his lips.

Never in his life had he felt this out of control. Not when he was leaving all he knew for a life that held no security or stability. Not when he made his first deal, or when he acquired his first business. In all of years of staring adversity in the eyes, he never felt as lost and helpless as he did right now.

He turned back to his bar cart and hastily poured whisky in his tumbler, not caring that most of the pour landed on the cart itself. He downed the tumbler in one swallow and immediately began to pour another.

Derek eyed the door. He should go. It was his duty, wasn’t it?

He looked back down into his glass then the decanter. There wasn’t enough whisky in all of London to quell the feelings he was trying to force down with the alcohol.

He set the tumbler down and rolled down his sleeves. He should go.

He took two steps and stopped. Eleanor’s bright green eyes flashed in his mind. She was smiling and most likely saying something sarcastic like she was questioning his rules. She always had this look like the cat who ate the canary when she was going toe to toe with him, and it was his favorite version of her.

Eleanor without the pomp and circumstance. Just her in all her natural glory.

He shook his head. No. That is not her. Before he came along and interfered with her life, she was on a destined path, one she was about to fulfill as long as he stayed away.

He turned back to the bar cart, rolling his sleeves back up. He picked up the tumbler and looked back at the door one more time.

If he ended up going, he would say or do something that would throw her life in jeopardy, and he couldn’t do that to her or her family. No. He would stay here.

He threw back the drink and welcomed the burn as it ran down his throat.

Pain. Pain was good; it was something he knew how to control. He would get over this. All he needed was time. And more whisky.