Chapter 4
Chapter Four
“What?”
Elinor jolted so hard she almost knocked over a paperweight on the desk behind her.
You must be mine.
Slowly, she blinked at the handsome man that loomed above her, his smile dancing on the edge of dangerous. Confusion swirled through her mind, for why would he ask of this? Why would he want her, when nobody ever had in those ballrooms? She was nothing to him, and—
Heavens, in what way did he even mean?
Her heart hammering, she found her voice after an old, broken clock ticked away, as if reminding her of how long she had been out. “What—what do you mean, Your Grace? I do not understand what you would want me for.”
The Duke of Fairmont made a low, thoughtful noise in his throat, before he pulled away and strode up and down the dirty, worn carpet in front of her. His hands were tucked into his pockets, and he oozed casual confidence that Elinor knew Gilbert would be deeply envious of.
“I have plans for the workhouse,” the duke began, surprising Elinor by not answering her directly.
He glanced at her before continuing his thoughtful, slow gait across the room’s width.
“Admittedly, I let it slip my attention as I began taking over the duchy and patching up the many, many holes my uncle left in it.”
There was a growl of bitterness as he said that, but he just cleared his throat and continued. Elinor didn’t dare respond, not yet.
“But now that I have seen the condition of it …” He shook his head. “I cannot abide it. There was a report left for me in my uncle’s will regarding this. He stated, in a rather unkind way, that the children are not the best with change.”
“Innocently so,” Elinor whispered, rising to defend them all. “Change can be scary for anyone, let alone for children whose only stability is a workhouse where they are beaten.”
“Beaten?” The duke stopped short, his head whipping around to face her.
“I believe so,” she admitted. “One of the little girls, Alice, had a bruise on her cheek. She claimed she got in the way. There are two overseers that I know of for the children. One is rather quiet, but the other …”
She shuddered. She had rarely met either of them, but she could recall the other one’s cruel smile when he saw her once during her initial meeting with the children’s former tutor.
Her heart ached at the memory of Mr. George Penwright, but she pushed his memory away for now.
“Then they will be swiftly dismissed upon investigation,” the duke confirmed.
“Regardless, I want to change the workhouse’s conditions and way of being run.
So, I believe that removing you from their routine as well would not be a smart choice.
They will need something reliable to hold onto while I oversee the renovations. ”
“Renovations?” Elinor echoed hopefully.
She thought of him rattling the precarious railing on the staircase, of how he had looked at every room so far with a twisted sneer of judgement. Initially, she had thought he had been disgusted at having to be there.
Now, she wondered if it was more so directed at the lack of upkeep from his uncle’s ownership.
“Yes, Lady Elinor,” he answered slowly, striding back over to her. “And in exchange, you shall be my betrothed for the Season.”
Betrothed.
Oh, Heavens.
What had she stumbled into?
Her pulse quickened as she looked up at him, trying to find the words to ask why, how she could even explain this to her stepfamily, and how somebody as undesirable as her would suddenly be betrothed to a duke.
And how could she explain where they had met?
Unable to think about that now, Elinor asked in a shaky voice, “What sort of changes?”
The duke looked amused at her avoidance of his condition, but he didn’t challenge her on it.
Instead, he answered her thoroughly. “To be frank, the workhouse will not be that anymore. Instead, Fielding House will become a boarding house, and I might even apply for it to be renamed. A new life for a new establishment, one where the children will not be forced to work. They may if they wish to, as long as it is skillful learning. Sewing, engineering, labor to help build their strength. Though, it will be regulated and optional. They will receive education—”
He gave a pointed look at her, and Elinor had to fight back her protests that she could not publicly be their tutor.
“And comfort and proper care. I will have them equipped with fresh clothing and their stomachs will never go empty,” he finished.
“Your Grace,” Elinor’s voice was barely a whisper, emotion making her shiver.
The duke paid her whisper no mind as he spoke again.
“Of course, this means heavy renovations for both the building and the staff. I will be hiring more people to attend to the children and the women here. Kitchen staff, cooks, maids, a true housekeeper. I also would like to have proper guarding outside. It is not safe in this area of London, and if people think that there is more worth to this place … I would not like to risk anything.”
Elinor pressed a hand to her mouth, smiling in hope. “Do you truly mean all of this?”
“Yes.” He cocked a brow. “Why would I not?”
“People in your … position often do not. Forgive my bluntness, but the former Duke of Fair—”
“I am not him.” The brusque response made Elinor flinch back, her eyes widening, but she nodded quickly. “Forgive me, I … I am making efforts to set my duchy aside from what the late duke did with it.”
“I understand,” Elinor murmured. “Forgive me.” She let silence settle between them for a moment before she finally addressed the condition. “Though I must ask, Your Grace … Why do you need a fake betrothed? I am certain a man like yourself is not short of interest.”
The duke let out a hard bark of laughter. “Oh, really? And what is a man like me?”
Elinor blushed, turning her face away, swallowing. Heavens, what was she doing? Perhaps her stepmother was right. Perhaps she really did ought to stay silent.
“Go on,” the duke purred in encouragement. “Do tell me. Handsome, maybe? Charming? Confident?”
Elinor’s face only burned harder as she stared at the far wall. Finally, she admitted, “Perhaps.”
His laugh under his breath made her stomach flip.
No, she told herself. Do not let yourself react to anything he does. Your focus remains on the stars above, not the ones you have seen in his green eyes, the lamplight catching their color.
It was terribly foolish.
“The truth is, Lady Elinor, I only took my duchy in the last several months, and, as I mentioned, there are many fixes to do. The last thing I need is to be pestered with debutantes and their mamas with their desperate matchmaking schemes. I am trying to set this place right.” He gestured at the office, the building.
“And I do not need yet another issue to contend with while I focus on it.”
“Your Grace, if you are trying to improve your reputation, then I am not the lady to help with that.” Her humiliation weighed her tone down, making her scarcely able to get the words out. “I—I am not … conventional, as people say.”
“I have not asked for conventional,” he corrected her. “I have simply asked for a mutual exchange. You were not present at the ball, and your stepmother came up a with a reason on the spot, so I am wondering what the truth is. Did you miss not attending the ball, Lady Elinor?”
She shook her head. “They think it is a punishment for me to stay home—” She clamped her mouth shut, realizing what she had just admitted. “I—I mean—”
“So, Lady Morland ordered you to stay home?”
“Well … It is not—”
“The truth, Lady Elinor. At this point, it is hardly wise to try and lie to me.”
She bit her lip at first. “She forbade me from attending tonight,” Elinor sighed, knowing there was no point in backtracking now. She was not a good liar. “But it is no punishment.”
The duke looked at her, equal parts curious and amused. She wondered why—how?
“So, you did not mind skipping the ball to teach orphans.” It was not a question, but Elinor nodded anyway.
“Then you are just as disinterested in the marriage mart as I am, I assume. From where I am standing, this is a solid opportunity. You do not have to worry about securing a suitor, and I can escape matchmaking altogether. You can remain teaching, and I will protect your secret. If it ever gets out, you will have my protection.”
Elinor’s mind was already working through this, spinning at a thousand thoughts a second, it seemed. “Even if I agree—”
“Which I know you will. For the children.” He smirked at her again.
“Even if I do, nobody will believe that I have been able to capture the attention of the Duke of Fairmont.”
“Then we will stage a first meeting in a public place,” he countered, ready to knock down every challenge. “They can see that you will. All in pretense, of course. Then I will start making calls to your house. Even if I have to endure that stepmother and stepsister of yours, so be it.”
At that, Elinor perked up. Finally, somebody else who found them as intolerable as she did.
“Still, nobody will believe it. I am sorry, Your Grace, but I really am not the lady for this choice.”
“Why?”
Elinor laughed. “I do not know if you have ever attended the same ball as I, but I am the ton’s most gossiped-about wallflower.
Somebody who is not seen but is talked about for that very reason.
No suitor looks at me; no suitor asks me to dance.
So, why would a duke be interested in such a lady?
The bespectacled wallflower with too much to say at times, and not enough in others? It is too unlikely.”
The duke did not answer her at first. He only did that head tilt again, and Elinor nervously pushed her spectacles up the bridge of her nose. She had developed the habit nervously when they once slid down her nose as she read a particularly complex essay that, at the time, she had not understood.
Ever since, the habit had simply remained when she did not know what to do with her hands, or herself, really.