“Lavinia, sit here on Rafe’s right side. I will sit on the left with Lady Upton by me and your mother by you. Miss Upton may sit by her mother,” the duchess said before anyone had a chance to choose a place at the table.
Ellie was not surprised she’d been placed as far as possible from Rafe. His stepmother made her feelings about whom she wanted him to marry very clear. Rafe frowned but didn’t speak. All his fine words earlier meant nothing. He’d soon find himself engaged to the very proper and eligible Lady Lavinia. Ellie forced the tasteless food down. She smiled at all the appropriate times. Her smile froze on her face. Finally, the lengthy meal ended. Rafe chose to join the ladies back in the drawing room.
“Lavinia, please play for us.” The duchess turned to Ellie. “Do you play my dear?”
“Simple pieces. I’m not very good. Mama had difficulty convincing me to practice. I much preferred being outside riding my horse.” She glanced at Rafe and caught the twinkle in his eye. The duchess frowned. She’d apparently noticed the interchange.
“Being skilled in piano is an important ability to have. Lavinia, my dear, please entertain us.”
His stepmother’s frosty tone sent a chill through Ellie. With her words, she was warning Ellie how lacking she was in the skills to be a duke’s wife. Soft music filled the room. Ellie hated to admit it, but Lavinia did play well.
After listening to two songs, Ellie’s mother rose. “Thank you, Your Grace, for a most pleasant evening. We will retire. We plan to leave very early tomorrow. Good night.” She nodded to each person in the room then took Ellie’s arm. “Nod politely,” her mother whispered.
When they reached Mama’s room, she directed Ellie inside. “You did very well this evening, although that smile did appear forced. I’m sure you won’t mind leaving at dawn.”
“No, I’ll be ready.”
Her maid waited for Ellie in her room. As soon as Ellie was dressed for bed, she left.
Ellie went to the panel opening that Rafe had used earlier. She ran her fingers along the edge, searching for a way to lock the panel on this side. She’d almost given up the search when she discovered a piece of the edging moved. She twisted it to the side, effectively blocking entry.
Rafe had his chance tonight to speak up. He’d not find her waiting hopefully for his attention. When she returned home, she’d concentrate on finding a suitor she could accept as her husband. Ignoring the wrenching pain in her chest, she climbed into bed. Not long afterwards, she heard a knock on the panel and Rafe’s voice insisting she remove the lock. Putting her hands over her ears, she ignored him.
Long hours later, she still lay awake staring into the darkness.
Chapter Eight
Rafe stared out his window and watched the
Upton
’s carriage disappear around the curve in the drive. They’d left very early. He’d decided not to go downstairs. Until he handled the situation with the Templetons, he had nothing new to say to Ellie. He planned to talk with his stepmother this morning. He’d told her maid to ask her to meet with his as soon as possible. He was going for a short ride, and hopefully on his return, everyone would be up.
He was determined to talk with all of them today.
Mist still clung in the air as Rafe rode around the fields. Workers were just beginning their day. Rafe waved at several as he galloped by.
His stepmother would be disappointed. She’d set her heart on seeing him wed Lavinia. In a way, she was right. Lavinia had all the criteria to be a duchess. She’d been well trained. When they’d first met, her striking beauty had aroused his interest. Before he’d joined the troops, he’d asked her to marry him. He told her that they’d marry when he returned. But her shocking reaction to his injury had destroyed any feelings he had for her. Now, having known her longer, he saw her selfish behaviors and realized what a mistake he’d have made if they had wed. He was thankful she’d ended their betrothal.
Ellie glowed with goodness while Lavinia tried to hide her darker side but didn’t succeed. Rafe pulled his horse around. He wanted to get back and take care of this business so he could claim the woman he loved.
“Your Grace, the duchess will see you now,” the maid said as he entered the house.
“Thank you.” Rafe strode across the foyer and up the stairs. He hadn’t formed a speech, yet he was determined to leave no doubt in anyone’s mind that he was marrying Ellie.
“Please come in, Rafe.” His stepmother waved him inside her sitting room. Dressed in somber black with her hair drawn tight into a bun, she looked old and sad. “It is rather early for you to request a visit. This must be something important you wish to discuss.” She beamed at him. “Take a seat here, right across from me. I must confess I’m sure I know the good news you bring, and I’ll be very happy to welcome Lady Lavinia into our home as your wife. She has such elegance and proper breeding, totally unlike the unsophisticated Miss Upton.”
Rafe leaned forward. “I must interrupt you before more is said. I am not going to wed Lavinia.”
His stepmother waved her hands. “Surely, you do not still hold her foolish words against her. She’d never dealt with illness or injury. Being young, she did not express herself in the best possible way.” The duchess took his hand and stared into his eyes. “You must forgive her.”
“No, I must not. Her words are indelibly traced across my mind. I have asked Miss Eleanor Upton to marry me.”
“Humph.” His stepmother let go of his hand and sat back in her chair. “I do not approve of your choice.” She gave him a stern look. “You are a duke and must think of other things besides your lust for a common woman.”
Her harsh words stunned Rafe. “A common woman? Her father is a baron. She is a member of the
ton.
”
“Still, she is not accomplished in any of the proper arts. You heard her say she’d rather go riding. Being a duchess would overwhelm her.”
“Not with support and encouragement.”
“I will not help her. You will have to find someone else to take on that task.” She raised her chin and stared at him defiantly.
“In that case, I’m glad we’ve had this conversation. I’m sure my father’s sister, Aunt Martha, will agree to help Miss Upton. I’ll give orders to have the dowager house cleaned and made comfortable for you. You will move before our wedding. I’ll not have my bride made uncomfortable in her own home.”
“What, you would throw me out of my home right after your father’s death? Has this woman cast a spell on you? Never did I dream you’d be capable of such unkindness.”
Rafe took a deep breath. Anger and guilt warred inside of him. His stepmother’s strong floral cologne began to give him a headache. He was tired of dealing with stubborn women.
“I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you.” He stood and walked toward the door. “It was not my plan, but you’ve had enough time to accept that I’d not ask Lavinia again to be my wife. You ignored me whenever I reminded you it wasn’t going to happen, thus giving me no choice but to be more direct.
“I had no wish for you to move. Nevertheless, your words have convinced me that you’d make my new wife uncomfortable and unhappy, and that is not acceptable.”
The duchess patted her eyes with her handkerchief. “I never believed you thought so little of me.”
He opened the door and stood in the entrance. “There is no need for an immediate change of residence. You may wait until the wedding. I will have the staff move your things the week before. I’m sorry it has come to this.”
“What will the Templetons think? You will have to explain to Lady Lavinia.”
“I will talk with her. Good day.” Rafe nodded his head and snapped the door shut behind him.
That had not gone well. He’d always cared for his stepmother and thought she cared for him as well. For a second, he had caught a look of almost dislike flash across her face, not for Ellie but for him.
Father, I miss you so much
.
Rafe took the stairs two at time and headed for his office, or what used to be his father’s. He walked inside and drew in a deep breath. The smell of old books and a faint hint of his father’s musky cologne still lingered. Memories of evenings spent here reading, talking, or enjoying a smoke before dinner made his loss slam into his gut. He sank into his father’s leather chair and heard the old familiar creak. For the moment, he allowed himself to grieve for the man who’d been the most stable and dominant person in his life.
His father had approved of Lavinia, but he’d understood when the betrothal ended. He’d not completely understand Rafe’s present choice. Still, he would have accepted Ellie, especially considering her courage and determination to save Rafe’s life.
Taking a deep breath, Rafe decided this was the time to talk with Lavinia. Once the situation was clear to all, he’d go to Ellie.
Rafe found Lavinia in the library. She sat by the window, a lovely picture of a beautiful, refined, young lady staring out the window into the rose garden. He stopped at the entrance and searched inside himself for any latent feelings. None. While just the thought of Ellie heated his body. He must have made a noise because Lavinia turned and smiled.
“Rafe, I’ve been sitting here wishing you’d join me. Now I know that wishes
do
come true.” She stood and slowly walked toward him, never breaking contact with her eyes. When she stopped, her hand touched his vest. Rafe moved it away. Her rosy mouth pouted.
“We must announce a date for our wedding soon, my love. I can’t wait to be your bride.” Again, she reached toward him. Rafe grabbed her hand and stepped back.
“Wishing doesn’t make it so, my lady. We are not betrothed, nor shall we be. Your insistence in pretending to forget what happened between us will not change my mind. You may have forgotten your callous words. I, however, will
never
forget what you said to me.”
Lavinia swirled around and walked to the sofa. “Please sit, Your Grace. Perhaps
you
don’t understand.”
“I prefer to stand. Enlighten me.”
“After we talked, I realized I’d made a grave mistake. My mother does not consider our betrothal broken. If you do not marry me, my father will sue you for breach of promise.”
“Neither your father nor mother desire that type of publicity. Perhaps if I did not hold the title of duke, they’d consider taking such action. Common sense will prevail.”
She stamped her foot. “I suppose you believe yourself in love with that common Miss Upton. I didn’t miss the glances you sent her at every opportunity.” She tramped across the room and stood right in front of him again.
“You will marry me or regret it.”
“Threats.” He laughed. “Explain everything to your mother. I’m leaving to visit my future wife.” With that he turned and left the room. He heard a very unladylike scream as a book bounced off the doorframe just as he went through.
“Booth,” he called out.
Booth poked his head around the door from the dining room. “Yes, Your Grace?”
“Pack our clothes. We’re traveling to my hunting lodge.”
“When will we leave, Your Grace?”
“Immediately.”
* * * *
Ellie sulked around the house until the second day when her mother insisted she go out riding. “All this pacing and your sad expression have begun to make me nervous.”
“Let me help you, Mama. There must be something I can do.”
“Well, I’d suggest you finish your knitting, but the last time you did any work on it you ended up with more tangles than progress.”
“Madam,”—the butler came to the door of the drawing room—”Lord Turner has come to visit.”
“Please show him in.” Her mother glanced at Ellie. “Smooth down your skirts, there is no time to make ourselves more presentable.” She’d barely finished speaking when Lord Turner came to the door.
“Lady Upton and Miss Upton.” He bowed. “I do hope you’ll forgive my spur-of-the-moment visit. I was in the area to see about buying a particular horse and hoped that an unexpected visit would not be seen as too presumptive.”
“Not at all, Lord Turner. Please join us. We were just going to enjoy a cup of tea.”
“Thank you.” He walked across and sat on the chair closest to Ellie. “You are looking lovely, Miss Upton,” he said.
“You are most gracious, my lord.”
The maid rolled in the tea trolley, and Ellie rose to serve the tea. Her hands trembled slightly when she poured the tea into the dainty cups decorated with an ivy trim. She handed the first to her mother and then one to Lord Turner. Fear gripped her. She expected he’d come to propose. He’d make her a good husband, pleasant and probably undemanding, except for wanting an heir.
Her mother and Lord Turner carried on a polite conversation, but Ellie didn’t listen. Her mind raced with the decision looming so close. Two reasons stood in the way of her accepting Lord Turner’s proposal—she wasn’t a virgin and she loved someone else. There was no way she could justify marrying another man with that standing between them.
“Eleanor, Lord Turner asked you a question.”
Ellie looked from her mother to him. “I’m sorry. Forgive me for letting my thoughts wander.”