Enchanting the Duke - Lana Williams Page 0,1

Duke.”

“Her father sold her for a title.”

“Poor dear. She’s nothing more than a broodmare.”

Did they think she couldn’t hear them? That their remarks didn’t hurt? A glance at Babette showed sympathy reflected in her dark eyes.

That was the last straw.

Eleanor halted then turned to glare at the three women who’d paused outside a haberdashery shop to watch her pass, looking at each of them in turn. Hopefully, that was enough to make them realize she’d heard and would quell their terrible behavior. Then she turned on her heel and continued toward the toymaker shop to look for a gift.

“How tragic. Now we also have a Dour Duchess.”

The whispered words chased Eleanor into the shop.

Oh my goodness. Was it true? Was she turning into her husband? That truly was tragic, considering she’d been known for her joyful demeanor and good cheer prior to her marriage.

The tinkle of the bell heralded her arrival to a waiting clerk, but Eleanor ignored him and strode toward the nearest display, complete with miniature Christmas trees and a rosy-cheeked Father Christmas, to gather her thoughts.

This was ridiculous, she silently reprimanded herself. She was a duchess, and therefore no one to be pitied. Never mind that much of what those women had said was true.

A broodmare. That remark hurt the most. She sighed. The sting was made worse by the fact that she’d thought—

She closed her eyes, ignoring the brightly painted wooden train before her. The truth was hard to admit but the time had come to be honest with her situation.

Douglas Slade had been her secret crush for nearly a year before he’d noticed her. His proposal had made her giddy with hope even though he needed her fortune as much as he needed a duchess. But that hope was dying a slow, painful death. It had become clear in the eight weeks, three days, and four hours since they’d been married that he didn’t return her regard.

His weekly conjugal visits to her bedchamber were delightful. But the one or two—once it had been three!—hours of passion didn’t carry over into any other part of their life together.

‘Life together’ being a relative term. They might be married but in reality, they didn’t have a life together. It was merely an existence in the same residence.

“Is there something with which I can assist you, your grace?”

She popped open her eyes and turned toward the clerk. “I’m looking for a gift for a friend’s baby boy.”

The clerk adjusted his spectacles as he gestured toward several options, explaining the merits of each.

Eleanor forced herself to pay attention. After all, the gift was important. Lillian Waters, the Duchess of Burbridge, had become a dear friend this past year. The fact that they were both duchesses had bonded them further. Her excitement over the son she’d given birth to just last month was delightful.

A pang of envy slid through Eleanor. The idea of expecting a baby filled her with longing. But she had a sneaking suspicion that the moment she announced a pregnancy to her husband, what little time they spent together would come to an abrupt halt.

She couldn’t allow that to happen. Not yet. Not until she’d done all in her power to convince Douglas that he was madly, deeply in love with her. She nearly scoffed at the thought.

As if that were possible.

Blast her girlish dreams of love. Why had she kept the hope of love and a lifelong partnership when such things rarely came to pass?

Lillian was partly to blame as well. She and her duke were so in love that it made one’s teeth ache to watch them together.

Her lips twisted at her churlish thoughts.

“If you don’t care for these, I have additional ones over here,” the clerk offered hastily.

She glanced at him, realizing he’d taken her expression as a sign of displeasure. Mayhap she was changing, becoming the Dour Duchess because of her unhappiness with her marriage. Unhappiness might be too strong of a word. Dissatisfaction was more apt. If her father knew her thoughts, he would be the first to tell her that if she didn’t like her circumstances, she should do something to change them. Her parents had a deep regard for each other, so she’d grown up knowing it was possible.

But how?

“Actually, I like this one.” The small wooden train might not be right for a baby, but the child would grow quickly. Eleanor liked to plan ahead. Unfortunately, that trait had done her little good in her marriage thus far. Didn’t that