A Christmas Bride for the Duke_Clean Regency Romance by Arietta Richmond

Author:Arietta Richmond [Richmond, Arietta]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dreamstone Publishing
Published: 2019-11-24T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Adair had been sitting in the library, nursing one brandy after another, slowly, for some hours, mulling over his feelings – about everything. He had drifted almost towards sleep, when the click of the door opening and closing brought him back to full awareness. Now, half an hour later, here he was, with Lady Eleanor in his arms, doing exactly what he had promised Garrett he wouldn’t. And he could not regret it. She had, most definitely, responded positively to this kiss – and that after declaring that she had chosen to risk her reputation to save his!

Could it be possible that she was coming to truly care for him? He found that improbable – all of his experience suggested that it was unlikely in the extreme, but… he wanted it to be true. He set her gently back on her feet after the second kiss, rather regretfully.

“You should pick up that book you came for, and go back to bed, my Lady.”

She looked at him, with those limpid blue eyes, and shook her head.

“Not yet. I want… I want to talk to you. During the day, all we can say to each other is stilted socially acceptable nothings. Once, I thought that those things mattered, but now, more and more, I realise that they don’t. All of the gentlemen who I thought so charming last Season really weren’t – they were only interested in either the size of my dowry, or of my bosom. And when they discovered that my dowry is only moderate, many of them suddenly became interested in other ladies. But… you are different. And I don’t understand the way that they treat you. You’re a Duke, after all, and unmarried – that would generally be enough to make a lot of the unmarried ladies follow you about like puppies. But they don’t. Instead they gossip, and whisper dark rumours. Why?”

He looked at her, utterly stunned. It sounded as if she actually cared… he did not, really, know where to start to answer her question. He swallowed, and considered – would she understand?

“Ah… that is… somewhat complicated. It starts with the fact that I’m a Scot – there is a segment of the ton who regard the Scots as uncouth barbarians, no matter how much history we share, or how educated a man might be. And then there is my size. Being a large man is not something I’d wish upon anyone. People assume that being large somehow makes one less intelligent, and less genteel. As if my size and appearance make me automatically a barbarian. When I first went up to Eton, my speech was all Scots, and most of the boys bullied me about it – not physically, after the first few – there are some advantages to size, although that just added to their belief that I was barbaric – but with mockery, and pranks and other nastiness. Kilmerstan and Dangerfield were the only ones, to start, who offered me friendship and support.

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