Chapter Thirteen
Shaw House
Portman Square
Mayfair, London
Though it was a Sunday, Eloise needed to see James, so she called at his townhouse only to be told that he was closeted in his study with his man-of-affairs as well as his solicitor. He’d given strict orders not to be disturbed or interrupted.
Since she had no intention of doing that, she filled the time by introducing herself to the servants she didn’t know, the ones who hadn’t been at the hunting box.
Most of them looked at her with pity when she told them she would soon be the Duchess of Blackhawke, but they were too well trained to say anything negative about the duke.
A few, like the housekeeper and the footmen, welcomed her warmly and said they looked forward to having her about the house.
That should have given her pause, but she didn’t think anything ill of it.
While his staff seemed overly protective of the duke, why did she have the distinct feeling that they were almost in mourning for some reason?
It was unexplainable, but she pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind.
Quite frankly, she was glad to be away from her father’s house for a bit.
While he meant well and was only concerned for her, the constant lectures and warnings about Blackhawke had grown stale.
Again, he’d brought up the possibility of her marrying the baron he’d selected instead.
And once more, she’d declined. Yes, she had her own reservations about the duke, but there was also a certain comfort about him, about being with him.
Was it a case of the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t?
Only time would tell.
When the butler brought a silver tea tray into the room and set it on the low table near where Eloise sat, he offered her a small smile.
“His Grace has given me leave to inform you that he has procured painting supplies, canvases, as well as an easel for your use. Everything has been set up in the morning room. He says it has the best morning light should you wish to make use of it.”
A tremble went through her heart. “He only just discovered yesterday about my inclination to paint.” Such a gift was much like when he’d created the indoor picnic for her to remind her of France. Truly, he had a trace of the romantic in his soul. Was he aware of that? How very interesting.
Martin shrugged. “When the duke puts his mind to a thing, he quite stubbornly sees it through. He has always been this way. Mrs. Peters went into Mayfair this morning with a footman to secure the supplies.”
“What a lovely surprise. I’ll thank the housekeeper the next time I see her.”
“Very good, Miss March.” Then the man poured amber liquid into a delicate porcelain teacup. “Please ring for me or the housekeeper if you should need anything else. Once the duke has concluded his business, I shall inform him that you are here.”
“Thank you.” She put a small lump of sugar into the teacup and stirred it about with a silver spoon. “I appreciate the welcome and hope I’ll prove a decent duchess.”
“The fact you have accepted His Grace’s suit speaks volumes to your heart and integrity.” Then, with a nod, the butler left the room.
Over the next hour, Eloise enjoyed the respite of the tea and various pastry offerings on the tray.
She’d found a book of poetry on one of the curio shelves in the room.
After indulging in that and finishing the tea, she wandered to the backside of the townhouse on that same level where the morning room was.
It was a small room compared to the size of the drawing room, but if the sun ever shone, she could imagine the space flooded with delicate illumination.
A cozy grouping of furniture occupied one side of the room.
In one corner was a small secretary desk, no doubt for letter writing and household management.
But near the window, an easel had been set up with a canvas already in place.
On a nearby round table draped with a sheet, different sorts of paint pots waited as well as a plethora of brushes in different sizes.
Tears welled in her eyes from the bounty. Oddly enough, her fingers itched to let her imagination and creativity soar over that blank stretch of canvas.
“Miss March?”
With a tiny gasp, Eloise whirled about to face the duke’s valet. “Oh, Littleton. You gave me a fright.” The hammering of her pulse attested to that fact. “May I help you?”
“I apologize for skulking. That wasn’t my intention.” The man hesitated in the doorway. “I hope you can help.” With a glance back at the doorway, he came haltingly into the middle of the room. “While His Grace is otherwise occupied, I’d like to talk with you.”
Worry twisted through her belly. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes, please don’t concern yourself.” He stood tense, as if he couldn’t decide whether to remain or flee. “However, I’m not certain the duke is well.”
Out of all the things he might have said, she didn’t expect that. “What do you mean?”
The valet shrugged. “The last time I saw him like this—quiet, brooding, avoiding questions, preparing things to take care of others beyond what he will be able to do—he attempted to take his own life.” He sighed. “Granted, that was nearly two years ago.”
Knots of concern pulled in her belly. “I thought he was doing better?” Was that what the engagement was, the many couplings so he could relieve guilt or merely get his rocks off, ordering her into a quick marriage, all to take care of her while he… left?
“Sometimes he hides his true struggles well. While it’s true he has been more uplifted this past week than he’s been in a long time, that darkness is always lurking and his thoughts convince him that there is no hope or a way out.
” He held her gaze. “You might not realize it, but you have had a tremendous effect on him.”
Icy fear played its fingers down her spine. Would she lose him so soon after starting to understand him? “Why are you telling me this?”
Concern lined Littleton’s face. “If you can, please save him. Deep down, he is a good man. I’ve known him a long time, been friends with him for years; he can’t help what he struggles with, but I believe everyone deserves a chance at redemption. At peace.”
“I agree, but…” Tears filled her eyes, for panic started to set in.
She couldn’t lose him, not when she suspected she was falling in love with him despite the odds, despite their differences, despite…
everything. “I’ll do what I can, but it’s not my responsibility to save him.
I don’t even know if I can. He must want to be saved.
However, I will sit beside him and support him while he does battle, tell him he’s not alone.
” Even as she spoke, her hands shook, so she hid her fingers in her skirting.
Littleton nodded. “He needs every scrap of support in this moment. The world would be a sad place without him here.”
“It would, indeed, but does his stubbornness bleed into tricking him into convincing him he needs to go?”
“Only time will tell, but we need to try. Both of us.”
Eloise nodded. And may the gods help us.
Not long after that conversation, the duke joined her in the morning room.
“Martin just told me you were here.” He flicked his gaze over the painting supplies and the brush in her hand. She hadn’t yet dipped it into paint, merely liked to run her fingertips through the soft hairs. “You didn’t come with a maid?”
“Of course not.” With a smile, she tossed her head. “My father urged me to bring one, but I’m far too old for such nonsense. I don’t require someone who will tattle on me. Besides, you and I are engaged. How much more scandal can we possibly fall into?”
“Ha.” When he offered a tight grin, she wanted to do something to urge it into full life. “Never lose that spirit, Elli.”
“I don’t plan to.” After setting the brush with the others, she joined him in the center of the room.
Good heavens, but he was far too handsome.
How the devil he managed to seem so carefree and casual in a bottle green jacket, golden waistcoat, and buff-colored breeches, she had no idea.
Perhaps it was his blond hair mussed just enough to lend another layer of attractiveness or perhaps it was the hint of a shadow on his cheeks and chin, or perhaps it was the delicious scent of his cologne, she didn’t know.
But awareness of him prickled over her skin and quickened her pulse.
“I’d imagine the tea has gone cold?” he said with a glance at the service.
“I’m afraid do.” As she laid a palm on his chest, she asked, “Were your meetings successful?”
A grunt preceded his answer. “As well as can be expected, I suppose. I’d much rather have spent that time with you, but because of those meetings, I know you’ll be well cared for.”
That made her think about what Littleton had told her, and her heart seized for a second. “I’m sorry to hear that.” She fiddled with the folds of his cravat. Lines of exhaustion and worry lined his face. “You seem weary as if the battles you silently fight have taken their toll.”
Fleeting vulnerability infiltrated his expression and reflected in his eyes before he tamped it. “Perhaps I am. Constantly trying to keep the darkness in my mind at bay sinks into my bones at times.”
If she could, she would take away the pain for him.
“I’ll need to go home soon. Papa is expecting me for dinner, but that won’t be for a couple of hours.
Before I do, perhaps you and I should spend some intimate time together.
” When she tugged at his cravat, Eloise lowered her voice.
“And if you need a clue, I want you to restrain me, Your Grace. I wish to lose control tonight. Ever since I told you of what haunts me, it has pressed in on my conscience and sleeping brain until I feel trapped in those moments again. I need a distraction.”
“A release,” he said in an equally soft voice while his eyes darkened.