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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The moment Eleanor opened the door, the two culprits - who seemed to be passionately engaged in pressing their lips against each other - sprang apart, guilty looks on both their faces.
Eleanor stood rooted to the spot, not knowing how to respond. What does a wife say when she finds her husband engaged in the art of lip-lock with another woman? Another woman who just so happened to be the reincarnation of Helen of Troy?
She knew normal wives would shout and hurl objects at their deceiving husbands but Nathan and she were not a normal couple. So what could she do?
'It's not what you think it is,' Nathan blurted out, sparing her from talking first.
Trying to sound - and look - nonchalant and ignoring her plummeting heart, she replied, 'Well, then. Are my eyes perceiving wrong? Are you not kissing this...half-naked woman?' Indeed, the woman's drab brown gown had come undone, her corset and stays visible.
Nathan glanced at the blonde beauty and quickly averted his eyes, his cheeks turning a bright crimson.
'Is this Svetlana?' Eleanor asked again, calmly. ' Your mistress who you told me was hidden away in your room back in Wolverhampton? I did not think she traveled with us to India.' She was aware her voice was laced with mockery and dripping with sarcasm but she did not care. All she cared was for her heart which seemed to shatter to pieces for reasons unknown.
Svetlana flushed.
Nathan looked at her in shock before vehemently shaking his head. 'No! No, she is not my mistress. I do not have a mistress as I told you before. She is my housekeeper.'
'Dear me, that is scandalous! More so, since the affair is with your housekeeper.'
Nathan continued with the shaking of his head. It was amusing to think that only a few minutes ago he was giving her the silent treatment. 'There is no affair. Eleanor, I swear, there is a perfectly rational explanation.'
Eleanor regarded him blankly. 'I'm sure there is.' She turned to the footman who stood at the threshold and was looking at the scene in sincere befuddlement. 'If you will show me to my room, I shall be most content.'
The footman, coming out of his stupor, tipped his hat and started down a hallway.
'There is no need for that, Mr. Potts,' Nathan interrupted. 'I shall take her.'
Mr. Potts halted in his tracks but Eleanor, livid at Nathan's declaration, shot him a deathly glare which, when he saw it, urged him on.
Eleanor followed him down a small hallway and came to a stop before an oak door.
'Thank you, Mr. Potts,' she said. 'If you could bring my luggage to the room?'
