Chapter Thirteen

The weight of the evening's festivities bore down on Elaine as she slipped away from the lively drawing room, the chatter and laughter fading behind her. The musicale had been a whirlwind of conversations and polite smiles, and while she appreciated her aunt’s persistence in ensuring she was never without company, she found herself utterly exhausted. Seeking solace, she quietly entered the neighbouring parlour, a space that she knew would at least afford her a brief respite from the constant need to socialise.

The parlour was dimly lit, a cosy retreat adorned with plush chairs and rich, dark wood. A large bookshelf lined one wall, its shelves overflowing with well-worn volumes. The faint scent of aged books wafted through the air. Elaine always cherished fond memories of this room, a place where she would often find refuge during her childhood. When her parents were preoccupied conversing over tea and Simon seemed far more interested in finding bugs outdoors, Elaine could come here, pick up the first book she could find, and lose herself within it.

Elaine made her way to the bookshelf, her fingers grazing the spines of the books as she searched for something—anything—that could transport her away from the pressures of the evening. Away from the fact that she had not gotten the chance to speak with the duke again since they’d been interrupted by Lord Gorvington and Lady Isabella. She watched him move across the room, watched him watch her, felt her heart race when their eyes met and her cheeks warm when he smiled at her. And yet, they could not find their way back to each other.

Elaine sighed, settling into a comfortable chair with a book of Shakespeare in her hand. She found the first story she could and settled in to read, hoping it would help to clear hermind.

And it did. In fact, she was so engrossed in the story that she didn’t notice someone had entered the room until the door clicked closed behind them. Elaine sucked in a breath when she saw that it was the Duke of Ryewood, his presence filling the room with a palpable tension.

“Lady Elaine,” he said, his voice rich and warm. “I must admit, I did not expect to find you here of all places.”

Elaine didn’t know whether to smile or crawl under the nearest table and hide. “Your Grace, what brings you here?”

“I needed to get away from everything,” he said, coming closer. “It is quite exhausting when others are always hoping to speak with you.”

With each step he took, warning bells rang louder in her head. They should not be alone like this and yet…

“I would not know, Your Grace,” she breathed. “I can hardly compare my popularity to yours.”

“I beg to differ, my lady. Do not think I have not noticed your many trips around the ballroom, speaking with a number of gentlemen.”

Elaine couldn’t place the tone of his voice. But his gaze was intent. He stopped just a few feet away from her, hands clasped behind his back.

“Courtesy of my aunt,” she assured him, though she wasn’t sure what she was assuring him of. Surely that didn’t bother him?

He tilted his head, studying her with an intensity that made her heart race. “Are you all right, my lady? I hope you do not feel faint?”

“No, Your Grace!” she denied hastily. “I simply needed a moment away from the... festivities. I thought perhaps I could lose myself in a story.”

He stepped closer, glancing around. “Reading? How interesting. Most would choose to remain amid the chaos.”

“I find solace in literature,” she confessed, closing the book momentarily. “It allows me to escape reality, if only for a little while.”

He ventured over to the bookshelf, leaning against it. Elaine lamented the sudden distance even though she quite admired the duke’s posture and physique. “I share your sentiment. There are moments when the demands of society become overwhelming, and I, too, find refuge in the pages of a book.”

Elaine’s heart warmed at that. “What sorts of stories do you enjoy?”

“Anything with depth,” he replied, his gaze drifting to the shelves. “I have a particular fondness for the classics—those that explore the human condition. I suppose they remind me that our struggles are often universal.”

“Ah, yes! I love those as well,” she said, enthusiasm evident in her voice. She forgot about her book as she stood to face him. “There is something comforting in knowing others have faced similar trials. It is as if we’re connected through time and experience.”

He nodded, a smile forming on his lips. “Precisely. Literature has a unique way of binding us together, doesn’t it? When I read, I often feel as though I am conversing with the author. As if they understand me.”

Elaine leaned forward, intrigued. “And what do you think they would say about our current lives, filled with soirées and societal expectations?”

He chuckled softly. “Perhaps they would remind us of the importance of authenticity. That we should not live for appearances but to experience life to its fullest.”

“My, it sounds as if you should put such words to paper, Your Grace. It feels as if I am hearing the words of an inner author.”

The duke chuckled. “I shall consider it if you do one thing for me.”

“What is that?”

“Call me Michael, so that I may call you Elaine.”

Elaine’s heart thudded against her chest. “Very well, Michael. I look forward to reading your first manuscript.”

“You shall be the first,” he assured her with a grin. “Pray tell, what other pursuits do you find enjoyable, Elaine?”

Hearing her voice on his lips filled her with something she couldn’t name. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that they were alone, that they were tempting scandal by daring to converse like this without a proper chaperone. Elaine knew couldn’t risk ruining her chances of finding a husband. But, despite the warning thoughts in the back of her mind, she stayed right where she was.

“I also enjoy embroidery and playing the pianoforte, as you already know,” she answered. “Both allow me to find escape from my reality.”

He raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Why would you need to find escape?”

“My life has become a pitiful thing, Michael,” she admitted with a sad smile. “But with my embroidery, I am creating something beautiful with my own hands. It calms me and fills me with satisfaction when I complete one. And when I play the pianoforte, it’s as if the music carries me away. Each note is an escape, a way to express what I cannot say aloud.”

Michael regarded her thoughtfully as if seeing her for the first time. “You are far more complex than I imagined, Elaine.”

“Thank you, Michael,” she replied, her heart fluttering at his words. “And I appreciate your understanding. I hope I have not ruined your chance for respite by showing you how pitiful I am.”

“Pitiful?” His gaze bore into hers, intense and sincere, as he spoke with a quiet conviction. He moved away from the bookshelf, bridging the gap between them. “I don’t find you pitiful, Elaine. I find you… authentic. You are nothing like what I thought you would be and I do not know what to make of it.”

Her breath caught at the weight of his words. There was an honesty in his tone that made her heart race, and she felt the warmth of his presence wrapping around her like a gentle embrace. She opened her mouth to respond but the words faltered when his gaze flickered down to her lips, lingering there for a moment that threatened to set her on fire.

In that heartbeat, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them. She could feel the pull between them, a magnetic force that urged her to close the distance.

Was he contemplating kissing her? Would she let him? The very thought sent shivers down her spine.

A resounding yes echoed in her mind right before Michael’s eyes flicked back to hers. He drew back slightly, breaking the moment. He ran a hand down his face, suddenly agitated, as if he was trying to compose himself.

Elaine blinked rapidly, also trying to regain her composure as her heart pounded in her chest, echoing the tension between them. Was she mad? How could she consider letting the duke kiss her when she was meant to be focused on more important things, like saving her family? She felt a mix of disappointment and relief wash over her.

“We should return,” she murmured softly. “Before we invite scandal upon ourselves.”

Michael smiled ruefully. “I doubt anyone else would be thinking of going to a parlour to escape the festivities.”

“It is always a possibility,” she insisted.

He nodded, but the air still crackled with what could have been. For a moment longer, they held each other's gaze. Elaine allowed herself to contemplate what could have happened if he had stepped a little closer. If he had taken her cheek in his palm and pressed his lips against hers. If she had given in to the desire simmering deep within her bones.

“You should go first,” he told her. “So that we do not arouse suspicion.

Elaine said nothing as she turned away, needing the distance before she let herself make a terrible decision.

***

As the first light of dawn filtered through the window the next morning, Elaine sat quietly at her father’s bedside, her embroidery lying in her lap, the needle poised but forgotten. The soft rhythm of his laboured breathing filled the room, a sound that had once filled Elaine with trepidation. Now, she felt relieved that her father was still breathing at all, considering his condition.

She couldn’t shake the memory of her time with the Duke of Ryewood during the musicale—the way he had looked at her, the weight of their shared conversation, the tense moment wondering if he might kiss her at last.

A deep conflict swirled within her. She liked him. Far more than she should have, with all things considered. And her growing feelings for him tangled with her sense of duty to secure her family’s future. She needed to find a suitable husband to help her family. Yet the thought of merely fulfilling that expectation felt like a suffocating weight on her chest.

Her father stirred slightly, his eyes opening to meet hers. “Elaine,” he murmured, his voice thick with undisturbed mucus. “What weighs so heavily upon your heart, my dear? You look far away.”

Elaine hesitated, the words caught in her throat. How could she voice the turmoil that had been brewing within her? But there was something in her father’s gaze thatcompelled her to speak. “I... I’m torn, Father. I find myself drawn to someone, yet I know I must focus on my responsibilities. I cannot bring myself to forsake my duty.”

His expression shifted, a flicker of guilt crossing his features. “Your duty to this family?”

She nodded slowly, feeling a knot tighten in her stomach. “Yes, but it is fine, Papa. I know what I must do.”

“That is to put your duty before your heart?” he croaked, eyelids fluttering in the hazy lighting.

Elaine refocused her attention on her embroidery with renewed vigour, already regretting saying anything about it. The last thing she wanted was to upset him with her issues, especially this early in the morning.

“I should not have said anything, I did not mean to burden you with my troubles,” she murmured. “Would you like your breakfast now?”

Edward sighed and despite how low it was, it seemed to shake the room. It certainly shook Elaine to her core. “I should never have made you feel like you cannot make this decision for yourself,” he rasped, frowning as if every word he spoke was too painful. “I thought I was protecting you, but I see now how it has weighed upon you.”

Tears were already pricking her eyes. “I don’t wish to disappoint you, Father. I want to do what’s best for our family.”

“And yet,” he said softly, “what is best for you matters as well. You have every right to pursue your own happiness, to choose for yourself.”

The sincerity in his voice brought tears to her eyes. “Could it really be that simple, Papa?”

“Nothing is ever as simple as you think it is,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I only want you to be happy, regardless of what that looks like. The last thing I want is to be a burden to you. And I do not think Simon would like that either.”

Elaine abandoned her embroidery to grasp his fragile hand. “You are not a burden, Papa! Don’t ever say something like that again.”

“My poor girl.” His eyelids seemed to be having a difficult time staying open. “You know so little.

Elaine watched him fight sleep for a few more seconds but his loss was imminent. Before long, he had slipped away once more, leaving her heart swollen with a mix of hope and fear. She’d received her father’s blessing but he knew so little about their situation. She was their family’s only hope. Would it make sense for her to rest all her desires on a gentleman who has not stated any intention of courting her when there were others who may be exactly what she needed?

“Thank you, Papa,” she murmured, leaning forward to kiss him on the temple. “Your words mean everything to me.”