Lady Eleanor Mary Cantwell, daughter of the Marquess of Salford, is a proper young lady. With her golden complexion, raven-black hair, and manners befitting a princess, Lady Eleanor has always been deemed a belle. There is just one problem.
Lady Ele...
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Eleanor glared at Nathan when he came into their room a few minutes later, grinning from ear to ear. She had changed into her night clothes and now, wore a dressing gown over it, which she tightly wrapped around her.
'I hardly think Mr. Carter a gentleman, Nathan,' she said, pursing her lips and crossing her arms across her heaving chest. 'The nerve of that abominable man!'
Nathan chuckled and settled himself gently by her side on the bed. 'I know. But you did handle it quite well, my love,' he said, tucking a stray lock behind her ear.
She huffed and looked down at her stockinged feet. Her slippers had been tossed aside somewhere in the room upon her arrival. 'I know the ton thinks of me as...vermin, but they have never made me so blatantly aware of it!'
It was true. Eleanor was all too aware of what society thought of her and her father for adopting her but no one had ever said it to her face. The fact that Francis - Mr. Carter - so carelessly expressed his disdain was a slap not only to her face but Nathan's as well. It was an insult to them both! Didn't the foolish man realise that?
Nathan gently caressed her face and looked into her eyes as he answered, 'I know, my love. And I am deeply sorry. So very sorry he treated you so.' And he did look sorry. His handsome face was etched with worry and his blue eyes sparkled with guilt. Eleanor longed to wrap her arms around his neck and assure him he was not at fault but refrained from doing so. She wouldn't want him to get the wrong idea, after all.
'The only fault of yours was that you befriended that vile man,' Eleanor said, her nose wrinkling with distaste.
Nathan chuckled darkly. 'Yes, you are quite right about that. But you need not worry about that. I have broken off all connections with him. No man who insults my wife deserves my time or company.'
Eleanor's heart lurched at his endearment for her. My wife. His wife. Nathan's wife. The term had her heart dancing a jig and she chided herself for feeling so. Freedom and husband were two words which did not go together under any circumstance! Of course, that is, when you aren't tied down to your husband like Eleanor, although that could change if she let her feelings run amok.
Eleanor cleared her throat in an attempt to clear the tension hanging in the air. 'Well then. Now that we've got your priorities sorted out, how about we retire for bed?'
Nathan nodded and stood up before a dark look clouded his eyes and he smirked devilishly.
Eleanor, noticing it, frowned and asked, 'What? What is it? Why are you smiling like that? It is highly unnerving.' A sudden draft made its way in through the open window of the room and she wrapped the gown tighter to fight off the chilling bite of the cold breeze.
