Enchanting the Duke - Lana Williams Page 0,21

quickly as possible. But first, he unfastened his topcoat and wrapped the edges around her, hoping some of his warmth would aid her. He pressed the side of her face against his chest to shield more of her from the sleet pelting them from every direction. The small hat she wore provided little protection.

“You are not in the least dour. Why would you think such a thing?” He nudged the horse with his knees and the animal quickened its pace, seeming as anxious as Douglas to get out of the weather.

“It’s been mentioned several times.” Her body shuddered, but it took only a moment to realize it was from her sobs, not shivers. “I d-don’t know why it bothers me so. It shouldn’t make any difference what others think.”

It didn’t matter to him, but it clearly did to her. And she mattered to him. “You are a duchess and no one should say such things to you.”

A fierce protectiveness, along with guilt, filled him as she continued to cry. He knew very well it was his fault she’d been labeled the dour duchess. He was the one who was dimming her brightness, stealing her happiness. But he’d never thought his solemn nature could cause her pain.

He held her tighter as they rode, trying desperately to think of a way to calm her and stop the tears. “I’m sorry,” he said and pressed a kiss to her forehead beneath the narrow brim of her hat. “Just because I’m known as the dour duke doesn’t mean you should share my title.”

“I hate that name. Why do people say such hurtful things?”

“Because it’s true.” He gathered his thoughts, trying to decide how much more to say. Her continued sniffs suggested her tears had yet to subside. “Frivolity was not part of my youth. I was taught that duty and responsibility should be approached with seriousness.”

A long moment of silence met his words. “That must’ve made for a terrible childhood,” she said at last even as she settled more tightly against him.

“Not really.” He lifted a shoulder though she couldn’t see it. “I didn’t realize my upbringing was different until later in my life.”

“No climbing trees or swimming in the pond?”

“No. Though I was taught to swim for my own safety and that of my tenants. In case someone needed rescue.” He had to pitch his voice louder over the howl of the wind, which made him think how ridiculous it was to be having this conversation in the middle of a storm.

“How sad,” came her muffled reply.

Sad? He considered the word and admitted there had been a few times when as a young boy he’d indulged in tears. He hadn’t wanted to be a duke and didn’t think it fair that it was being thrust upon him. But lecture after lecture from his grandfather about the honor of the position had buried those thoughts until now.

He said nothing more and instead focused his attention on arriving back at the house safely and keeping his wife as warm as possible. His black coat was covered in white sleet by the time they arrived. Burbridge and several of the other men were preparing to ride out to help with the search.

“Thank goodness you found her.” Burbridge took the reins from Douglas so he could dismount. “Are you hurt?”

Eleanor shook her head but made no move to dismount. Whether she was stiff from the cold or her hip was too sore, he didn’t know. He reached up to take her into his arms.

“I’ll send servants up with a hot bath,” Burbridge said as a groomsman came forward to take the horse.

“Thank you,” Douglas said then strode up the stairs. Within moments, he settled her in a chair before the fire in their bedchamber.

Her maid arrived but Douglas waved her off, preferring to see to Eleanor himself. It seemed the least he could do considering this was his fault. “Please see about the bath and bring some sustenance. Something stronger than tea, please.”

The maid departed after a worried glance at her mistress.

Eleanor stared blankly into the flames as he removed her cold, wet cloak then slipped off her boots before beginning on the tiny buttons at the back of her gown. Perhaps he should’ve allowed the maid to deal with this part as he felt inept at undressing his wife. He had little practice. At last, he managed to peel the wet wool from her as her maid returned and fetched a dressing gown to wrap around