Enchanting the Duke - Lana Williams Page 0,11

was politely open-ended, allowing Douglas the choice to offer more information or simply change the subject.

“My grandfather led my education. He felt learning my responsibilities was more important than anything I would be taught elsewhere.”

“I’d forgotten that your father died relatively young.” Burbridge studied Douglas. “With no siblings or parents and no school, that must’ve been a lonely childhood.”

“At times.” Douglas had no idea why he was sharing all this with Burbridge when he’d never discussed it with anyone. “But my days were busy with work.”

Burbridge nodded. “There are times when I am envious of those who farm. Is there anything more rewarding than planting, tending, then harvesting one’s own crops?”

“Very true.” Douglas relaxed, realizing he had stiffened as he thought of the past. Those had been dark days, especially right after his father’s death, when he’d felt as if he could do nothing right to please his grandfather.

The moment Douglas smiled for any reason, whether with pride for having accomplished a task or being amused by something around him, he’d earned a sharp reprimand. “There’s nothing to smile about here.” “You must need more to do if you’re grinning.”

But Douglas had much to thank his grandfather for. He knew the value of hard work. He carried a deep understanding of his tenants’ lives and their needs. He could keep accounts himself and analyze numbers with little effort. He had no need to trust anyone to do specific tasks as he could do them all.

Burbridge pointed out the recent repairs made to buildings and homes they passed and explained the crop rotation method they were using. He seemed to be well liked based on the greetings he received from those they encountered.

“My steward is well versed in all that needs to be done, but I enjoy keeping track of everything as well.” Burbridge’s expression softened. “Though I admit to being distracted since we found out Lillian was expecting. Having a family shifts one’s priorities.”

But it shouldn’t. The words were on the tip of Douglas’s tongue, however he held them back. Based on how happy Burbridge looked, who was Douglas to remind him of the proper order of his duties? Family and other personal responsibilities were lower on the list, though he was beginning to wonder if his list was different than others, including Burbridge’s.

“It’s the oddest thing,” Burbridge continued as he drew his horse to a halt and surveyed the horizon, his expression one of pride and satisfaction.

“What is?” Douglas asked when he didn’t say anything more.

“I realize, now that I have a child, how important it is to balance my life. Duty is all well and good, but without joy and happiness, what is the point?”

Douglas frowned. He’d never stopped to consider such a question. His grandfather would’ve dismissed the remark as weak-minded. But Douglas understood what Burbridge meant even if he didn’t agree.

Yet the image of Eleanor heavy with their child filled his mind. He couldn’t help but press his gloved fingers against his heart at the sudden pang there.

~*~

Eleanor watched as two of the younger ladies that had arrived earlier giggled and carried on at one end of the drawing room. “Please tell me I never acted like that.”

Lillian lifted a brow as she glanced between Eleanor and the women. “Didn’t we all?”

“Hmm. That’s a terrible thought. Shouldn’t they be working on the gifts?”

As part of the charity for the orphanage, Lillian had provided lengths of wool for scarves to help keep the children warm this winter. The female guests had been invited to embellish the scarves by adding tassels or simple embroidered stitches to make each one unique. She’d explained that many of the children wore the same clothes as each other, so having something unique that they selected was special.

Eleanor had already completed three of the scarves and was working on the fourth. Yet the ladies at the opposite end of the room were still on their first.

“They’re young.” Lillian finished tying short lengths of bright red yarn along the edge of a scarf. “I didn’t really expect them to enjoy this particular task. No doubt they were hoping for something that involved the bachelor guests instead.”

One of the young women, Lady Elizabeth, looked at Eleanor then whispered something to her companion.

Eleanor stilled as she heard, “the Dour Duchess.”

A glance at Lillian’s expression suggested she’d heard the same. The urge to stalk over to Lady Elizabeth and respond filled Eleanor, but she resisted.

“Am I?” she whispered to Lillian. “Have I become dour?”

Lillian sighed. “I’m sorry