Enchanting the Duke - Lana Williams Page 0,17

had overtaken them both during the night to ease the sting. Then there was his compliment regarding her musical talent and that almost kiss while playing charades. She bit her lip as she pondered the meaning of those moments.

Did Douglas feel any part of what she did? Were his feelings for her growing? The question concerned her. She wished there were more ways for them to become closer. No matter how minor, she wanted to find another opportunity to show him how lovely their marriage could be. How perfect they could be together.

It came as no surprise that he wasn’t in the dining room when she joined a few of the other guests to break her fast. He ate early at home, too.

“Rumor has it that the weather will take a turn for the worse this afternoon,” Mrs. Sloane said as she took a seat beside Eleanor.

“Oh?” Eleanor was still adjusting to the new version of Lady Samantha, or rather, Mrs. Sloane. The previous one would’ve taken great pleasure in delivering well-aimed barbs at all who crossed her path. Mrs. Sloane was a kinder, gentler form of that woman though Eleanor still waited for glimmers of the old edition.

Her husband was delightful, even if he often seemed uncomfortable with both the company and the setting of the house party. His upbringing had already proven invaluable to sift through the ideas for the charity that the guests had discussed. Mrs. Sloane had shared with a certain pride that his mother raised him on the rough streets of London by herself. His father, a duke, had little to do with his illegitimate son until earlier in the year. They were still in the process of navigating their relationship.

The story made Eleanor curious. But she didn’t know Mrs. Sloane well enough to delve too deeply into her changed outlook let alone her husband’s background.

“Burbridge advised us there will be a storm this afternoon but said we shouldn’t hope for snow.” Mrs. Sloane took a bite of toast then reached for her tea.

“Snow would certainly make the party feel more festive,” Eleanor offered, “but perhaps rain and cold will be enough to keep us gathered around the fire.” The image pleased her, especially when she thought of Douglas alongside her.

“Excellent point.” Mrs. Sloane smiled with satisfaction. “I don’t think I’ve enjoyed a Christmas more than this one.”

“Says the newlywed,” Eleanor teased.

“You are one as well. Don’t you find the upcoming holiday especially wonderful this year?”

“Yes.” Eleanor could hardly admit otherwise without revealing the reason behind her marriage—convenience. Yet she realized her anticipation for Christmas was greater than normal. Now that a few tender moments with Douglas had allowed her hope for the future to bloom once more, she found that all the season’s activities carried extra meaning. “Yes, I do.”

The morning passed slowly with the ladies together in the drawing room to sew simple cloth dolls for the little girls in the orphanage. They were not much bigger than Eleanor’s hand and made of old bed linens with embroidery thread stitched to make a face and yarn for hair. As they worked on equally small clothes for the dolls along with little aprons that matched what the girls in the orphanage wore, Eleanor found herself wishing they could do more.

She wanted to make certain the children on their estates were taken care of first before she delved into doing more for the orphanage. She frowned in concentration as she considered the idea. What would truly make a difference for those in need who lived on Rothbury land? More than just a meal to tide them over. Something meaningful that would make a difference for their future. Yet she didn’t want to step on the pride of the families either.

Whispers from nearby caught her ears.

“The Dour Duchess is at it again. Just look at her scowl.”

“You’d think she would make more of an effort to be merry now that she is wed to Rothbury. Shouldn’t she want to at least try to make him smile?”

“If I were married to the handsome duke, he wouldn’t be dour anymore.” Giggles followed the murmured claim.

Hurt and embarrassment warred within Eleanor as she jerked to her feet. Acknowledging the painful words would only add fuel to the fire of gossip, but she couldn’t help it. She had to escape.

“How dare they.” Lillian rose, her gaze focused on the pair but Eleanor reached for her arm to halt her.

“Please don’t say anything,” Eleanor pleaded though she didn’t meet Lillian’s gaze.