Page 60 of Two Blessings For His Duchess
Euphemia could only manage a tight, breathless nod of her head.
“Very well. Do not move from this spot,” he instructed, his fingers finally slipping from her waist, though the sudden absence of his hand felt colder than she thought it would. “I shall return shortly.”
The moment his figure was swallowed by the crowd, the tight cord holding her together snapped. Euphemia stepped backward, pressing her spine against the cool glass perimeter wall of the conservatory, and tightly shut her eyes against the bright, dizzying light of the room.
She took a slow, trembling breath, her fingers clutching the fabric of her skirt as she tried to force her racing pulse to slow down.
“Oh, Effie, let’s not do this,”she whispered fiercely to herself under her breath, a desperate plea directed at her own betraying heart.“Please be normal. Please, just be normal.”
She opened her eyes, watching the space where he had vanished into the crowd, the cool glass of the conservatory wall anchoring her against the sudden heat in her face. The truth of it was no longer something she could rationalize away. It had taken root the morning after her collapse, the moment she woke up after that heartbreaking conversation in her bedroom, and her first conscious thought was a sudden, aching desire just to see his face and be near him.
In the days since, that longing had only intensified. Though they shared occasional lunches together, his responsibilities often drew him away from the estate on endless business, leaving her to wander the grand rooms with a restless, empty feeling she had never experienced before. She had harbored the secret for weeks, analyzing it. She knew the exact symptoms of this particular affliction, she had read about them in a hundred different contexts, but experiencing the rapid pulse, the breathlessness, and the constant, consuming thoughts of another person was entirely different.
There was a name for what was happening to her, a beautiful, terrifying word she couldn’t dare say out loud, not want to risk the brittle friendship they had formed.
She had developed genuine romantic feelings for her husband. It was a twist of fate she had never anticipated, a vulnerability she hadn’t prepared for when she agreed to this arrangement. Yet, as she watched the elegant guests move beneath the candle-glow of the pavilion, her gaze kept drifting back toward the crowded floor, searching for a glimpse of him. She was determined to keep the truth locked away, to protect herself at least until she was certain of what he thought of her.
But as her heart gave another traitorous flutter merely thinking of him, she knew she was running out of time before Nathaniel figured out that she had come to love him.
“I could tell it was you even before I saw your face.”
The voice broke through her frantic thoughts, causing her to gasp slightly as she turned. Thaddeus, Nathaniel’s friend was standing a few paces away, holding a fresh glass of wine.
“Did I startle you?” he asked, stepping closer into the shadow of the palm tree.
“No,” she said, quickly smoothing down her skirts and offering him a polite smile. “Not at all, Your Grace. I was merely taking in the room.”
“Good,” he said, though he didn’t quite look convinced. He shifted his weight, looking at her intently. “How are you, if I may ask?”
Euphemia raised her eyebrows. “I am... all right, I suppose.”
He nodded and sighed. “It was quite a scare when you slumped the other day. You gave me a tremendous scare. In fact, I have been plagued by the thought that perhaps part of it was my fault, because of what I had said to you before it happened.”
Euphemia immediately shook her head, eager to dispel his guilt. “Oh, no. Please do not think that. It was not you at all. I was simply a little tired, and frankly, I think it was because I had not been getting enough sleep.”
Thaddeus tilted his head, a wry, knowing smile playing on his lips. “What, precisely, was keeping you from your sleep? What was troubling you so?”
The question made Euphemia’s heart skip a beat. She averted her eyes, unable to answer him directly. As she looked away, she caught the look in his eye and dread washed over her. She could tell he knew something. She was utterly terrified that he had somehow figured it out. What if he realized that the true reason she had been so deeply troubled, the reason she was losing sleep, was because she wanted so much more from her husband than a mere arrangement?
She did not dare ask Thaddeus about it, fearing that even a whisper of confirmation would make her vulnerability real.
Desperate to steer the conversation away from her own traitorous heart, she quickly changed the subject. “Nathaniel told me about the late duchess. About Eleanor.”
Thaddeus let out a long, dramatic groan. “Finally,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I have been meaning to talk to you about that. I hope you know I did not mean it in a bad way when I brought her up before. I only wanted you to know that you are entirely different from the late duchess.”
He took a sip of his wine, his expression turning sharp with irritation. “Eleanor was an absolute pain. I am so sorry to be saying this to you, but she was. Now, Nathaniel is a gentleman, so he might put it nicely, but the truth is she was not a very good person. She gave him a massive amount of trouble. He might not mention it to you, but she was chaotic, she was rude, and she constantly caused problems with the lords and viscounts.”
Thaddeus leaned in slightly. “One of the primary reasons Nathaniel hated going out into society back then was because he simply did not want to take her anywhere. He lived in constant dread of whatever trouble would inevitably arise from something she did. She was so incredibly rigid and uptight, it was suffocating. I only wanted to tell you all of this because, from everything I have seen and heard of you, Your Grace... you are nothing like her.”
Euphemia offered him a soft, knowing smile. “Are you referring to the old rumors about me, Your Grace? Because if it is the rumors you are basing this on, then I definitely understand what you mean.”
Thaddeus let out a sharp, immediate bark of laughter, shaking his head so vigorously a lock of hair fell across his forehead. “No, no, good heavens, Your Grace, that is definitely not whatI meant. For the record, you should know that those rumors amount to absolutely nothing. They are entirely baseless. They are nothing but whispers, and they should not affect you in the slightest. I don’t even believe they are true. I never did.”
He took another sip of his wine. “Because I grew up in this... world, I know society like the back of my hand. All of these rumors are born of pure jealousy, or simply people wanting to have something to say. In a way, you and your sisters arrived in London somewhat mysteriously, so there will always be things people want to infer about who you are and what you are here to do.”
He paused, his voice softening. “But in my own opinion, even though I do not know the details of everything, it is clear you all suffered a great tragedy, one that everybody in this town knows about. People should really make allowances for you. Despite it all, you have grown up to be fine young women. There is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of if you come into society and make a little lapse in judgment now and then. You did not grow up in the savage manner this town behaves.”
Euphemia blinked, momentarily disarmed by the fierce defense from a man she had initially thought so superficial.
