Enchanting the Duke - Lana Williams Page 0,18

She couldn’t bear the pity in her friend’s expression.

“But—”

Eleanor shook her head. “Saying anything will only cause more gossip. I’d rather ignore them.”

She felt like a coward saying that. If she were stronger, she’d march over to those ladies herself and deliver a cutting remark that would make them think twice about saying such hurtful things about anyone.

But at the moment, she wasn’t strong. Nor was she brave. She was only a woman who longed for her husband to care for her but feared she wasn’t enough to earn his regard.

She didn’t feel anything like a duchess, dour or otherwise.

“I am in need of some fresh air,” she managed as she stared at the doll in her hands. Then she set it aside and strode out of the room, moving toward her bedchamber where she donned her half-boots and a hooded cloak. Tears pricked her eyes even as she berated herself for allowing their comments to find purchase.

The truth was they hurt because they were true. She had been so certain that by now she’d be able to make Douglas fall in love with her. How naive she was. How ridiculous of her to think she had any traits necessary to earn not just his respect and physical affection but his love.

She’d been acting like a young girl rather than a woman who should concentrate on her new duties. Winning his love was impossible when she wasn’t sure if he even admired her. The only path to earn that was to act like a duchess rather than thinking like a lovesick girl would. She’d been going about the situation the wrong way.

She hurried down the stairs, nodding stiffly at the few guests she passed but avoiding conversation. By the time she reached the front door, her breath was heaving with the need to release the pent-up emotions rushing through her.

“Might I call a coach, your grace?” the butler asked as he reached to open the door for her.

“No need. I’m merely going for a walk,” she managed and made good her escape.

The brisk air stung her cheeks, but she welcomed the cold. Anything to ease her embarrassment along with the tears that threatened.

How ridiculous to feel sorry for herself she thought as she marched across the sloping lawn that soon gave way to fields. She had so much compared to the poor children they had gathered to help. A roof over her head, food at every meal, fine clothes to wear, and a purpose to fill her days.

She shouldn’t be unhappy. But the heaviness in her heart couldn’t be denied. The tears came after all, rushing down her cheeks as she continued to walk. Was there some lack within her that kept Douglas from caring for her? She hated that he’d only chosen her for her dowry. That knowledge stole her confidence, leaving doubt in its wake.

She was wise enough to know the passion they shared in bed didn’t necessarily involve true emotion on the man’s part. Her mother had a long talk with her about a man’s needs prior to her wedding. And the chatter of the parlor maids had given her a more practical guide to masculine behavior. Sex and love were not necessarily intertwined, especially for the male species.

But they were for her. If only she could find some distance between them. The past two nights with Douglas had deepened her feelings. However, she had no reason to believe the same was true for him.

Weary of her circling thoughts, she focused on her surroundings, moving toward the woods where a trail along the forest edge beckoned.

Though the air was cold and the sky heavy with dark clouds, the beauty of the countryside couldn’t be denied. She’d enjoyed long walks in her younger days and found the same peace in her soul now.

Fresh air, quiet, and exercise were both invigorating and calming. Fog settled in the low areas, drifting past her, bringing with it a certain coziness to the atmosphere.

On and on she walked, reliving moments of the past few days, then earlier encounters with Douglas. She gathered the few memories of the times when he had shown tenderness. Why did he do so only at night? Not that he was ever rude. Just...distant during the day.

What in his past made him so focused on duty that he never allowed himself joy? From what she’d seen, he had no close friends, no confidants, other than his steward. In fact, she’d been pleased to see his relationship with Burbridge