Chapter Fifteen

Elaine stood before her mirror, smoothing the soft fabric of her pale blue walking dress, heart still racing with anticipation now that the promenade hour was upon them. She adored this dress on her andenjoyed the way the light caught the delicate embroidery. She could only hope that Michael liked the way it framed her figure and accentuated her natural grace.

“Ah, my darling!” Lorna exclaimed as she walked into her bedchamber. Her eyes twinkled as she took in Elaine’s reflection. “You look absolutely radiant. Are you excited for your promenade with the duke?”

Elaine’s cheeks warmed at the compliment, a mixture of excitement and apprehension swirling within her. “Thank you, Aunt Lorna. I have been looking forward to it since the moment he asked me.”

Lorna stepped closer, her hands deftly making minor adjustments to Elaine’s hair. Her expression shifted, a glimmer of mischief lighting her eyes. “Now, my dear, while we’re on the subject of gentlemen, I think it is about time we discussed the duke’s reputation. I’m sure you must have heard the whispers and they do say the most scandalous things. But of course, there are always two sides to every story.”

Elaine nodded. “Yes, I am well aware, but I feel there’s so much more to him than the rumours suggest. And…I cannot help but feel drawn to him, Aunt Lorna, despite James’ warnings.”

“Good!” Lorna exclaimed, her excitement palpable. “You must follow your heart, Elaine and never let idle gossip cloud your judgment. You will never know the truth about a man unless you give him the chance to show it. James is simply being too overprotective.”

“I know there is truth in what James’ says, though. Rumours do not simply appear out of thin air. Perhaps the duke will tell me about it today.”

“Perhaps. But you must understand if he does not.” Lorna kept fussing with Elaine’s hair, even though she could have sworn she’d done it rather nicely. “But tell me—what of Lord Weatherby? Has he not returned? He had seemed rather determined the last time he came to call on you so I was almost certain that he would.”

“Lord Weatherby nearly asked for my hand in marriage,” Elaine managed to say, even though speaking it aloud made her shudder.

“I beg your pardon?” Lorna gasped. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“It happened right before the duke arrived. The duke interrupted it, actually, so it was not actually given. I may be wrong.”

“You know very well that you are not. A man as old as the baron will not waste any time when searching for a new wife, you know. He has so little time left as it is.”

Elaine stifled a laugh at those words, feeling a little bad. “The good thing is that I was not able to give him a response.”

“What a relief!” Lorna sighed, shaking her head. “Perhaps the duke will beat him to the pulpit after all!”

Elaine laughed at that, picturing Michael marching into the vows, determined to claim her before Lord Weatherby could even gather his wits. The duke did not seem like the type to do such a thing and yet it filled her heart with warmth. “How nice it would be if it were that simple, Aunt Lorna. But I do appreciate the thought.”

“But think of it!” Lorna leaned closer, her eyes sparkling. “You read quite frequently so I’m sure it will be easy for you to imagine. The duke, with his mysterious past and undeniable charm, swooping in to rescue you from a dull marriage. Who wouldn’t want that kind of romance?”

Elaine’s heart fluttered at the thought. “But what if he truly has a dark past? What if I mean nothing to him?”

Lorna shook her head, her expression earnest. She took both of Elaine’s hands. “You will not know unless you seek to uncover the truth yourself, darling. You have never been one to shy away from a challenge. Trust your instincts since they have never led you astray before.”

With a determined nod, Elaine straightened her shoulders. “Thank you, Aunt Lorna. That makes me feel a little better.”

“Now come,” Lorna said, tucking Elaine’s hand through the crook of her arm. “Let us not keep our dashing duke waiting!”

***

Michael and Clarissa arrived at the Sutton residence with a flicker of tension settled in his chest. He stepped inside and was greeted by the butler’s polite nod. The Sutton residence that had once stood as an imposing structure exuding grandeur now wore the marks of neglect. Michael had taken a moment to observe the estate, noting the peeling paint on the shutters and the cracked stone facade. Weeds sprouted defiantly in the otherwise manicured gardens, and the once-pristine pathway was now marred by patches of overgrown grass.

The house had once been a symbol of power and prestige and now it languished in disrepair, much like the reputation of its owner. Simply a reflection of the man who occupied it, Michael thought with satisfaction. It was only fitting.

“Lady Elaine will be right with you, Your Grace,” the butler told him and he disappeared a moment later.

The drawing room was no different. Michael had taken notice of the worn surroundings when he’d arrived earlier to ask for Elaine’s company but he hadn’t stared, not wanting to be rude. Now he didn’t stop himself, even though he saw that he and Clarissa were not alone.

“Your Grace,” Lord Abney greeted, rising from his spot in the middle of the room. “Lady Clarissa.”

“Good day, my lord,” Clarissa greeted breathlessly with a smile. “It is a pleasure seeing you again.”

“I feel the same, my lady.” The viscount’s expression was soft, warm. Michael couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “You must forgive my cousin’s lateness. She will be here soon, I’m sure.”

“It is no worry, my lord. We are in no hurry,” Clarissa smiled gently. “Were you reading just now?”

“I was. Would you like to see?”

Clarissa nodded excitedly and Michael resisted the urge to roll his eyes. How hadn’t he noticed this before? The two of them were talking like a pair of lovesick fools.

He ignored the pang of envy he felt as he watched them approach the bookshelf at the back of the room, talking about the kind of books they liked. It only brought Elaine back to mind, when they had a very similar conversation last night.

His eyes wandered and landed on Lord Suthenshire, who sat languidly by the window. A sharp stab of anger shot through Michael at the sight of him. This was the man, the one who had wronged him and his family. He had once stood tall and now appeared like a fragile thing being swallowed by the oversized armchair, a shawl draped over his lap. He stared out the window with such an unseeing gaze that Michael couldn’t help but wonder if he even realised that there were others in the room.

Michael was tempted to walk up to him and demand justice right then and there. But it wouldn’t be enough. He had to bring Lord Suthenshire down to the same level his father had been reduced to.

At that moment, Elaine entered with her aunt, and all thoughts of Lord Suthenshire slipped to the back of his mind. She glided into the room like a breath of fresh air, a smile on her face, her pale blue dress accentuating her figure and illuminating the space around her.

“Good day again, Your Grace,” she greeted breathlessly.

“I thought we agreed on calling me Michael,” he drawled as he approached, taking her hand. He had kissed the back of it before and he couldn’t stop himself from doing the same again. “You look lovely, Elaine.”

Her deep flush filled him with the urge to pull her into his arms, forgetting everyone around him. But he couldn’t forget Lady Abney smiling broadly at the both of them.

“Good day, Lady Abney,” he greeted politely. “Will you be joining us?”

“Oh, no, of course not! I know better than to impose on such a charming pair. I trust my son will serve as an adequate chaperone.” Lady Abney stepped forward, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Pray, inform me should he attempt to come between you two, and I shall set him straight.”

Michael didn’t know whether to laugh or to feel pity for the wrath Lord Abney was likely to incur. He settled on the former before nodding and then turning his attention back to Elaine.

“Shall we?” he asked.

“Just one moment,” she said.

Elaine made her way to her father, kneeling beside him. She began fussing over him, tucking the shawl tighter around him. It was a tender enough moment to tug at Michael’s heart, soothing the anger that had flared at Lord Suthenshire. He watched as she spoke softly, her fingers brushing her father’s hand with affection. She was nothing but alight that radiated warmth and kindness, a brightness that made him reconsider the darkness he had been harbouring for so long.

For a moment, Michael wondered about the path to the truth. The anger that consumed him did not stand a chance when faced with a lady like Elaine, he realised. He was found lacking in the face of her near perfection. She looked up then, catching his gaze, and for a heartbeat, the world around them faded away.

“Michael,” she said, her voice a melody that sent a ripple through him. She stood, and the sunlight caught her hair, casting a warm glow around her. “I am ready to leave now.”

He swallowed hard, forcing a smile as he shook off his thoughts. “Let us then,” he replied, his heart twisting in his chest. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had just made a terrible mistake. What mistake that was, he hadn’t a clue. But as he took Elaine’s hand and they made their way out of the drawing room with Lord Abney and Clarissa on their heels, he knew the mistake couldn’t be her.

***

The sun filtered through the leaves of the cypress trees, casting dappled shadows on the path ahead, as they strolled through Hyde Park. Elaine couldn’t contain a rush of exhilaration that mingled with the nerves taking her over. Behind them were James and Clarissa, their soft laughter creating a pleasant backdrop. But Elaine’s attention was firmly fixed on Michael beside her.

Well, perhaps not firmly fixed, for she could not help but notice the glances they attracted from passersby—some staring curiously, while many others were filled with veiled judgment. It was an unfamiliar sensation to be observed in this manner, and she understood it had more to do with the duke than with her.

Elaine chose to ignore it. She had been longing for this moment since she met Michael. She refused to let the judgments of others ruin the connection blossoming between them, like the vibrant flowers lining the path.

“Michael,” she began, breaking the comfortable silence, “how was your morning?”

He glanced at her, his expression guarded. “Unproductive, I’m afraid. And it is your fault.”

“Mine?” she gasped. “What have I done?”

“I could not stop thinking of you.”

Elaine’s cheeks flushed, warmth blooming in her chest. “Oh! I’m…I’m sorry.”

Michael’s laughter echoed around her. “Pray, do not apologise, Elaine. I did not intend to cause you any distress. It is merely that you occupy my thoughts so entirely.”

How could he say that so casually?

Before she could think of a response, he asked, “How did you spend your morning?”

“I…” She struggled to gather her thoughts, her mind in disarray. “Well, I spent my morning at the pianoforte, attempting to escape my own reflections.” A twinge of pride swelled within her as she added, “My father derives great pleasure from my playing.”

“Is that so?” Michael replied, his voice holding an emotion she could not quite identify. “What is your relationship with him like?”

“We have always shared a close bond,” she admitted. “Even as a child, I favoured my father, though I miss my mother dearly.” Elaine hesitated, searching for the right words. “I wish to be able to care for him,” she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper. This topic was likely to bring her to tears, she realised suddenly. “After all my father has done for me and my family, I cannot simply sit by and watch him wither away. Now it is my turn to ensure he feels cherished and secure. I know he worries about the future and yet I cannot help but do the same thing. I want to ease his burden as much as I can.”

Michael nodded, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. “You are far too kind for your own good, Elaine.”

“Is it deemed kindness to care for one’s father in sickness?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“If one’s father is not deserving of that care,” he murmured.

Elaine frowned up at him. She couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t understand the meaning behind his words. “And what about your father? Were you close with him?”

Michael’s expression shifted slightly, a shadow crossing his features. “It’s complicated,” he admitted, his tone heavy with unspoken weight. “My father has always been a man of ambition. But he was also a good man, far too good for his own good. Too good to realise that he was surrounded by a sea of snakes.

“You sound resentful of that,” she couldn’t help but point out.

Elaine regretted it as soon as she saw a tick in his jaw. “I am. He should have been smarter. Perhaps then he would not have died the way that he did.”

Elaine took a steadying breath, her curiosity piqued. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did your father die?”

Michael’s face grew hard. Elaine wished she could take back her words. “He was betrayed,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “He died disgraced and that betrayal cost our family everything.”

The emotion in his voice nearly made her reach out to take her hand, a wave of understanding washing over her. “I’m so sorry,” she said gently. “I had heard whispers about your family’s reputation, but I didn’t know…”

“It’s why we carry such a burden,” he continued, his tone steady, his eyes trained dead ahead. “People talk without knowing the truth. But rest assured, I’m actively working on restoring our name, one step at a time. It’s a slow process.”

She nodded, relief and concern washing over her at once. “Thank you for trusting me with the truth, Michael, even though I am not aware of the entire story.”

Michael sighed, the shadows deepening in his eyes. “It is a long story that is filled with politics and deception. I have spent years trying to piece it together myself, and even then, the truth evades me. But I have no intention of letting his legacy die without putting up a fight”

“And at least you have Clarissa. Family can be a source of strength, someone you can lean on..”

“The last thing I want to do is burden her with this matter.”

“Leaving her in the dark may be just as burdensome,” Elaine said.

Michael was quiet for a moment and the silence allowed Clarissa’s and James’ laughter to travel forward. “You may be right,” he said at last.

“I often feel alone in my own family,” she admitted without thought, a sad smile touching her lips. “Though it is no one’s fault but my own. My father is ill and my brother is at Eton. He is off pursuing his dreams, so I hesitate to burden him with my concerns about our family’s standing.”

“It must feel like you’re carrying the world on your shoulders while everyone else moves forward.”

Elaine nodded. She’d never been this honest about her feelings before, not even to James. “I just want to make my father proud. I want to save my family from complete ruin. But sometimes it feels like I’m fighting battles alone, trying to meet expectations that seem impossible.”

All of a sudden, Michael took her hand, tucking it into his elbow. “Enough of this heavy talk about death and family burdens. In two days, my aunt Beatrice is hosting a ball and I hope you will be in attendance.”

Elaine’s heart fluttered at the invitation, at the touch, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Only if you save me a dance, Michael.”

“I would save you ten dances if I could,” he said with a lopsided grin that sent her heart racing again.

She flushed at his words, warmth spreading through her. Just as she opened her mouth to respond, their moment was abruptly interrupted when Lord Grovington and Lady Isabella appeared before them.

Elaine felt a wave of annoyance wash over her. Why were they always being interrupted by these two? It almost felt as if they conspired to intrude on their private moments at every chance they got.

“Your Grace!” Lord Grovington called, his voice booming across the path. He barely glanced at Elaine as he approached, his attention solely on Michael. “A pleasure, as always.”

“Lord Grovington,” Michael replied, his tone cool but polite. Elaine sensed the tension that creeping in at the edges of their exchange.

Lady Isabella, trailing behind her father, turned her smile toward Michael, her expression brightening in a way that made Elaine’s stomach twist. She completely ignored Elaine, as if she were a mere shadow in the background, something of no consequence.

“Good day, Your Grace,” Lady Isabella cooed, her voice dripping with sweetness. “What a delight to see you here.”

“Yes, and I am here with company, as you can very well see.”

Michael tugged Elaine closer to his side. She was certain her cheeks were flushed with colour.

Lady Isabella’s eyes flickered disdainfully to Elaine before murmuring, “Yes, I do see.”

“And if you two do not mind,” Michel went on. “I’d prefer to continue my walk with Lady Elaine in peace.”

The polite dismissal hung in the air and Elaine felt a surge of pride. Michael’s cool demeanour was bound to bring their ire, she knew but when he looked at her, Elaine didn’t care about seeming rude. There was a confidence in his posture that stirred something within her, something akin to defiance.

“But surely you can spare a moment?” Lord Grovington insisted with a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice.

“No, thank you,” Michael said firmly. There was a slight edge to his tone. “I would like to return to my walk now.”

As Michael turned away from father and daughter, Elaine felt a swell of triumph. Lady Isabella’s smile faltered, her cheeks flushed with irritation. They were forced to step back, clearly displeased. Elaine felt Lady Isabella’s glare burning into her before she huffily turned to leave with her father.

“They left in quite the huff,” Elaine couldn’t help but comment.

“It would appear so,” Michael drawled. Clearly, he did not care. Elaine hid her smile. “Now, as I was saying, two dances or ten?”

“One!” she exclaimed with a laugh.

“How disappointing,” he sighed. But humour tinged his voice, lifting the tension that had hung over them from their encounter with the marquess and his daughter.

Elaine let herself fully relax, ignoring the eyes, ignoring the whispers, paying scant regard to the fun her cousin seemed to be having with Clarissa. And the hope she had dismissed began to bloom again.

A hope for a future with the duke, for a love that would stand the test of time.

***

The air in the dimly lit tavern hung thick with the acrid scent of stale ale and sweat. Michael pushed his way from the door, the floorboards creaking under his boots. Mr. Horton was seated at the same sticky table in the corner, his demeanour noticeably more sober than the last time they’d spoken. The man’s eyes flickered with anticipation and caution as Michael took a seat.

“I’m glad ye could make it,” George said, his voice low. He slid a sheet of paper across the table, the parchment yellowed and creased. “This is what ye were lookin’ for, I think.”

“Where did you get it?” Michael asked cautiously. “I thought you gave me everything you had before.”

“I didn’t remember that I had taken it before I resigned. I thought it would come in handy, ye know. If I needed to blackmail. Maybe it would have if I hadn’t forgotten about it.”

Michael picked up the paper, unfolding it carefully. His pulse quickened as he scanned the contents. It was a letter from Lord Suthenshire dated a month before his father’s trial. It had a list of names that followed a stark message, stating that all the parties agreed that the Duke of Ryewood needed to be “knocked down a peg.” The letter was a clear indication of collusion, the evidence Michael needed.

But what struck him most was the salutation at the top.

To The O.

The O?

His heart raced. This was the proof he needed, the evidence that could expose the truth of Lord Suthenshire’s lies. But instead of relief, instead of satisfaction, Michael felt a wave of unease washed over him. He couldn’t help but imagine how this revelation would shatter the fragile world Elaine had built around her father. And if he revealed it, it would rip her to shreds, betraying her trust in him. She would find out that she was merely a pawn in a vicious quest for revenge.

Was she still?

“What do ye think?” George asked, leaning in closer, sensing Michael’s hesitation. “This is what ye wanted, wasn’t it?”

Michael clenched the letter, his thoughts a tumultuous storm. “You have my gratitude, Mr. Horton.” He brought out the shillings the other man was clearly waiting for, not missing the gleam that lit his eyes. “If there is nothing else…”

“No, no, that is all I have,” George said hastily, pocketing his earnings. “Nice doin’ business with ye, Mr…”’

Michael didn’t answer, simply standing to leave.The letter felt heavy in his pocket. He stepped out of the tavern into the cool night air. Above his head, the stars twinkled brightly, taunting him withthe darkness that still simmered within him.

He had a choice to make, he knew. But he had a feeling that no matter what choice he made, it would change everything—a dance between the longing of the heart and the relentless pursuit of justice.