Chapter 17

Nathaniel had never struggled with the inability to write something. No matter his condition, he could sit down and write to his heart's content. However, the strangest thing happened to him after the ball. For the first time since his literary pursuits began, he couldn't write anything that made sense. Everything seemed nonsensical or insincere.

Sighing, he flicked away yet another useless sheet of paper. Hours had passed, yet he hadn't produced something worthwhile. Nathaniel couldn't be more frustrated with himself. He stood up and pushed his chair back to pace the room. Maybe stretching his legs would jog his mind into creating something he could use, although he doubted it. Every surface, including the floor, was covered with his efforts. Papers with just a few words, half-full sheets, and pages written on both sides lay strewn everywhere, all evidence of his failure. It was a waste of paper and ink, and he felt somewhat guilty about it. However, being wealthy afforded him many luxuries, including wastage. It wasn't fair, but it was a simple fact.

"This is useless," he muttered, stopping in the middle of the room.

There was only one reason behind this loss of creativity. Nathaniel couldn't stop thinking about Lady Eleanor. Weeks had passed since that night, but she had been on his mind more often than not. He wanted to see her again and continue their discussions, to see her smile and dance with her. Nathaniel wanted to hear her opinions and learn about her interests, and surprisingly, he wanted to share his work with her.

He and Beatrice used to spend hours going over what he had written. Nathaniel appreciated her criticism because they shared similar interests, and she was his biggest supporter. Life grew dull and lonely after her passing. Beatrice had been his wife and best friend, so he lost two people in a day. Eventually, Nathaniel used to pretend he was talking to his wife just to feel like he still had someone in his life. He was sure his servants thought he was losing his mind.

"Your Grace."

Nathaniel jerked a little before he turned to the door. "Oh, Kent. I didn't hear you."

"Yes, Your Grace," his valet replied. "I came to see if you needed anything. You have been in your study for some time. Perhaps a tea tray or something stronger?"

"I would give you half my estate if you could bring Lady Eleanor here," he said without thinking.

Kent's eyes widened slowly. It wasn't easy to surprise the valet, so Nathaniel's comment must have thrown him off.

"Lady Eleanor?" he repeated. "May I ask who she is, Your Grace?"

"Someone I cannot stop thinking about," Nathaniel replied.

"Your Grace?"

Kent lost all composure as he stared at him slack-jawed. Nathaniel didn't blame him, but he couldn't suppress his chuckle. He had never said a word about any woman since Beatrice's death, so suddenly confessing he couldn't stop thinking about someone had to be surprising. It was true, and he saw no reason to hide it from a servant who knew rather intimate details about his life.

"It seems I might have developed an infatuation, Kent," Nathaniel explained. "I'm not sure how to feel about it yet."

"She must be special, Your Grace," Kent commented. "Shall I prepare to receive her soon?"

Kent sounded hopeful. He was just like Richard and believed Nathaniel needed a wife to complete his life.

"Do not get ahead of yourself just yet," Nathaniel told him. "I have yet to communicate my interest, although I'm not sure it will be accepted."

Kent pulled his head back. He appeared indignant that anyone would dare to reject his master.

"There is no greater or better man than you, Your Grace," Kent insisted. "Who would refuse you?"

"This woman is special," Nathaniel revealed. "She's also much younger, but she has an old soul. I met her at a play and again at a ball. Both times were wonderful and left me wanting more of her. That has not happened before. My wife was the only woman who ever held my interest, but Lady Eleanor truly captivated me. I feel both guilty and hopeful."

"That is very good, Your Grace," said Kent. "We would readily welcome the young mistress. Please let me know if there is anything you wish me to do. Perhaps we can send flowers to her residence."

Nathaniel had thought about that, but he couldn't forget how Lord Egerton looked at him. The marquess didn't like him, and he wasn't sure why. Sending flowers might not be the best way forward.

"No, flowers are not appropriate," he said. "At least, not yet."

Kent gave a slight hint of pursing his lips in disagreement, but that was as far as he would go. He would never verbally express it. A servant did not reprimand their master or express disapproval.

"Perhaps we could throw a dinner party," Nathaniel suggested.

Kent stumbled slightly. "A dinner party? Here?"

"Perhaps," Nathaniel stressed. "Lord Richard would be thrilled, but I'm unsure if I'm prepared to host something here."

The last time he entertained anyone was before Beatrice's death. She had wanted a garden party to celebrate her blooming summer garden. It was one of the things she was most proud of because she had personally tended to it with the gardeners.

"Perhaps we could do a spring clean of the house to prepare it," said Kent. "We can bring in more flowers and update the linen and drapes. The house will be ready should you choose to have the dinner party."

"Do whatever you think is necessary," said Nathaniel.

The more he thought about the dinner party, the more it seemed like something he should do. He could invite Lady Eleanor's family and finally see her again. They could discuss his works, and she could help him write again. Most importantly, they could spend time together. The mere thought of seeing her again sped up his heartbeat a little. He was excited. Nathaniel was a widower of mature years, but he felt like a young man experiencing infatuation with a beautiful woman all over again. It was ridiculous but exhilarating.

"On second thought, do everything you can to prepare for a dinner party ahead of having one," he said. "And ask my brother to meet me in the drawing room. Unless he's not here? He said he'd spend a few days here, but he can be quite flighty."

"His lordship is in the conservatory," Kent replied. "I shall inform him of your request."

"Thank you, Kent."

His valet bowed and left with a little smile at the corners of his lips. Nathaniel often forgot that his melancholy affected everyone in his household. His servants were devoted to him and only wanted to see him happy, so having a dinner party would be evidence that he was slowly coming out of his saddened state.

Nathaniel entered the drawing room moments later, followed by his brother seconds later.

"Why does your valet seem excited?" Richard asked as he threw himself into an armchair. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him we might have a dinner party," said Nathaniel.

Richard raised his eyebrows. "A dinner party? What brought on this idea?"

"I would like to invite Lady Eleanor," Nathaniel confessed.

Richard grinned. "So, you're finally admitting that you like her?"

"Yes, I'm interested in her," Nathaniel said. "I'd like to see her again, but she hasn't attended any social events lately. This might be the easiest way to see her again."

Richard chuckled. "No wonder you have been to nearly every event for weeks," he said. "I wondered but didn't bother to ask, or you might suddenly change your mind. You should have told me. I would have informed you that Lady Eleanor is with Miss Huxley and her family at their estate outside London. I learned about it when I called on Miss Huxley at their townhouse."

"Oh," Nathaniel replied. "No wonder I haven't seen her. Do you know when she'll return?"

"No, but why don't we go to them?" Richard suggested. "I'd like to see Miss Huxley, and you wish to see Lady Eleanor. You have a house outside London, so it will be easy to run into them or even call on them."

Nathaniel considered his brother's suggestion. He wanted to see Lady Eleanor, but following her to her current residence might seem a tad too much.

"We could wait until they return to London," he finally said.

Richard shook his head. "I was really excited there for a moment," he said. "This is the first time in a while that I've seen you enthusiastic about anything, but now you're doubting yourself. Take the plunge, and let's go see the women. Do not overthink it."

It was easy for Richard to say because he thought nothing of taking a daring approach to a matter, but Nathaniel was different.

"Why are you so eager to see Miss Huxley?" Nathaniel asked. "I hope you do not intend to pursue and ignore her once she grows attached. You are an incorrigible rake and have disappointed many women."

Richard grinned. "I have never hidden that I'm a rake," he said. "Women know it as well. You should worry about seeing Lady Eleanor again and leave Miss Huxley to me. So, are we going? We can leave by tomorrow morning. You always have servants at that estate."

Nathaniel might be moving too fast, but seeing Lady Eleanor again was a temptation he didn't want to ignore.

"Fine. We leave tomorrow morning."