Chapter Nineteen

L ady Eleanor, Duchess of Smythington

"As you can see, this is where the classrooms are," Headmaster Randell said, escorting my family through the hallowed halls of Knutchester.

A distinguished-looking gentleman with a decided paunch, I would say he was much older than me, but I had a feeling he was around the same age. One of the odd things about getting older was that I still felt as if I were nineteen. That ship sailed long ago. However, I refused to believe I was old, no matter what others thought.

Soaring dormer ceilings made up the great hall with stained glass windows letting in gentle light. The smell of wax and old wood permeated the air, along with a sense of expectancy. The facilities hadn't changed from when Atticus attended. The tour was for Harry, not us. Because of our status as duke and duchess, Randell made it a point to be our escort. While I nodded at his explanations during our lengthy tour of the facilities, which included the sister school for girls, I tried to keep myself from giving in to the emotions that continued to well up inside me.

I never had the luxury of attending school as my family preferred I stay in their London home. My father didn't believe in education for girls past the rudimentary skills of writing and reading, skills necessary for running the large household of a great house. My father was a marquess with royal blood, my mother was the daughter of an earl, and my parents had high aspirations for me, even when I was a young child. I managed to sneak books from the shelves of my father's robust library and learned as much as I could. While I was denied an education, my poor brother was forced to study until the wee hours of the morning. I used to help him by doing his schoolwork so he could get some much-needed rest. I was fortunate enough to vacate the house once I married and leave a bad situation behind. My brother wasn't so lucky.

When the twins were born, I promised myself that Anne would receive the same education as my sons. Instead of attending seminary, I hired the best tutors for her, and while she learned, I learned.

Anne had left for her wedding trip the morning before, and my eyes were still scratchy from crying. I thought I was prepared for this. Apparently, I thought wrong.

The high noise level was due to the vaulted ceilings of the great room, which added to my concerns. Children were rambunctious, and they were expected to meet their classmates eagerly. Harry wasn't one of those children. Inside, my turmoil was worse than the typhoons I read about in the South China Sea. I wasn't sure how I managed not to sob like a child every second of this day, but I needed to be strong for Harry. One of his strengths was sensing other people's weaknesses, and if he knew of my upset, he would become more upset.

Harry had been quiet most of the tour and stuck close to his brother's side. Atticus had been doing his best to help Harry by being enthusiastic about the surroundings and telling stories about when he attended.

Rex had chimed in, and between the two men, Harry seemed to relax as much as Harry could relax. His only outward indication that he was uncomfortable was the twitching of his left hand. He had a habit of tapping it against surfaces when he was nervous. It had beaten a steady rhythm on his leg throughout our morning.

Another family passed with their boy in tow, his brown hair flopping over his forehead. He was about Harry's age and talking non-stop to his parents, his excitement palpable. We exchanged smiles.

"Oy mate," the boy said to Harry with a friendly smile.

My son simply stared at him for a long moment. The boy's smile fell. I held my breath, willing Harry to speak. Rex laid his hand on Harry's shoulder, giving him a squeeze.

Harry shot his hand out, a determined jut to his jaw. "Lord Harry Smythington."

"A pleasure, name's Mr. Thomas Lloyd." The other boy shook his hand before dropping it. "Friends call me Tommy."

His parents and I shared a pleased look, my relief strong. Perhaps Harry might fit in after all.

"My father is a duke," Harry announced, looking from me to Rex. "My brother will be a duke someday. But Father isn't dead yet, so that will be a while."

Lloyd's parents seemed confused and intimidated all at once. The headmaster lowered his head, a decided smile on his lips. Atticus rubbed his forehead.

Rex's chuckle diffused the situation. "I am very much alive. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lord Rex, the Duke of Smythington, and this is my wife, Lady Eleanor. It is a pleasure to meet you all."

"Your graces, a pleasure for us as well," Mr. Lloyd said.

Mrs. Lloyd bobbed a curtsy. "I am sure our boys will be great friends."

"I hope so." I prayed that would happen and my fears would be for not. While on the outside Harry seemed normal, I was still concerned about our decision to let him attend here. I didn't know if it was mother's intuition or a selfish reluctance to have my last child leave the home, except I didn't have a good feeling about Harry being here. I knew it was silly, so I kept a hold of my tongue and said nothing.

"The rest of the first year families will receive their dormitory assignments in the chamber off the great hall," the headmaster told the Lloyds, effectively dismissing them. The men had already seen Harry's dormitory, which was the same one Atticus had lived in as Rex had before him. Women weren't allowed in the dormitory thus I had to assume the room was adequate for his needs.

The family disappeared before Randall addressed us, "That concludes our tour."

"Thank you, headmaster, that was very informative," I said. While I was glad it was over, I wished it could continue for days. If that were the case, I could put off leaving Harry.

"Thank you for your time. I guess there is nothing left except for us to say goodbye to our son," Rex said.

The headmaster offered a bow before he left our company.

The parents would be asked to leave once the boys had their dormitory assignments. I had gone through this with Atticus without reservations. He was a good boy—no, he was a man.

The time for us to leave was at hand, and my knees began to quiver. I couldn't believe I was about to say goodbye to my youngest son.

After much debate, Rex and I had determined it would be more beneficial for Atticus to see his brother back to the dormitory before he went to the Oxford campus. Harry tended to be more mature around his brother than with Rex.

"I guess we will be leaving." I bent down until I was at eye level with Harry. "Atticus will see you to your room, and he will come to see you often."

Harry nodded and laid a hand on my sleeve. "Yes, Mama. You needn't worry about me."

"No, I needn't, but I worry about all my children," I said, smiling for his benefit. Unlike my parents, I had seen to their every physical and emotional need. "It is what parents do for their children." With one last caress to his cheek, I stood and reached for Atticus. "Thank you, my love." Love for my oldest son bloomed. I dare not do more than hold his hand for fear of embarrassing him in public.

"He will be fine," Atticus assured me, his fingers squeezing mine before he dropped them. "You should return to London before it turns dark."

Except we weren't heading to our London home yet. Flynn had booked a private suite at the Stratham Hotel where we would explore our mutual passions without fear the servants would walk in on us. Flynn had assured me the owner was discreet and would see to our every need.

"Come on, Harry, let's join the rest of the boys." Atticus nudged his brother in the direction of the anteroom off the great hall.

A stream of parents exited the room. Several mothers were crying, and although the fathers remained stoic, it was a false fa?ade. Letting go of her children was a sad fate for mothers. Alas, that's where I was at this time in my life. My one consolation was that my husband was in the same situation and sympathized with me. Together, we would have to bear through this.

"Come, Eleanor." Rex settled his hand on my back and began to escort me out. Brilliant sunlight met us, the brightness stinging my sensitive eyes. A piece of my soul was in the building behind us.

Our groom opened the door to our carriage, and I lifted my skirt to climb inside, the dam on my emotions starting to crumble. The carriage boasted red seats stuffed with horsehair and two windows framed with red curtains. It was a handsome equipage, one worthy of the Smythington name. I took a seat, clutching my reticle in my hand. My chest was tight, the tears threatening to fall at any second.

Rex climbed in and sat beside me instead of taking the seat opposite. The second our eyes locked, my tears began to fall. Compassion rested in his gentle regard, along with his own emotional turmoil.

He signaled the driver to move on by tapping his cane on the roof, and then placed his arm around my shoulders. The carriage jerked before it began to sway on the cobblestone drive. I curled into his body, sobs coming unbidden from my throat. "Did we make the right decision?"

"Yes." Rex lifted my chin, his compassionate smile belying the sadness in his gaze.

"Then why does it feel wrong?" It felt like someone bore a hole in my chest. Atticus and Anne would thrive in the world. Harry was a different story.

"I don't know." He cupped my cheek, his thumb running along my bottom lip. "We simply have to trust in Harry."

"You are right." I tilted my chin, needing to forget my heartache. The soft caress of his mouth on mine was a soothing balm. I knew this would be a hard day, hence my reasons for meeting Flynn this afternoon for our rendezvous.

With a bold move, I brushed my tongue along the seam of Rex's lips, longing to feel more than sorrow. He angled his head, his tongue coming out to caress my seeking one. I moaned at the contact, my cunny beginning to flood with warmth. Our newfound passion bloomed bright between us. One large hand slid up my side, his palm cupping my breast through the thick fabric of my pelisse. I bowed my back to get closer, aching to feel more of his touch.

The carriage picked up speed as did my pulse. Rex lifted me onto his lap, cradling my bottom with his hard thighs. He continued to duel his tongue with mine, his hand moving to the juncture of my thighs. Seeking fingers rubbed the sensitive place, but the skirt hampered our play. I wanted to strip it off and be flesh-to-flesh with him. "How long until we are there?" I asked between kisses, my voice breathy and raw with need. The night with Flynn had freed my inhibitions, and I was no longer content to suppress my desires.

"Not soon enough," Rex said with a pained laugh. He continued his seduction, the sensations building inside me despite the thick material. The carriage hit a series of bumps, nearly unseating me from his lap. I held onto his shoulders to steady myself.

My kisses became more desperate, each glide of his lips over mine taking my body from an octave zero to a c4. I clutched at the material of his coat, my hips lifting to meet his unrelenting caress as my body hit the highest note. Rex held me until I floated back down, a pleased smile wrinkling his eyes.

I grinned back, relaxed for the first time in days. "Thank you for that."

"You're welcome." He looked outside at the passing cityscape, the roads becoming more congested the farther we traveled.

I started to move from his lap. He held me in place. "I rather like you here."

"I rather like being here, but I would like to reciprocate what you did for me." I didn't want things to be unequal between us. Flynn had taught me how to please my husband, and I wanted to make Rex happy. After all, it was at my insistence we never explored our desires to the full extent.

"I would love to say yes, but I suspect we will be at the Stratham soon, and the carriage has proven to be rather risky," he said with a wry smirk. "Once we are safely ensconced in our suite, I will take you up on your generous offer. However, I do enjoy your kisses, they help me forget. Might I have another one?"

Like me, he was missing our children, and I nodded, eager to comply with his request. The children were moving on with their lives, leaving us alone. With the new bond growing between us, I had faith we would get through the rough spots in our marriage.

Like the carriage ride, there would be bumps along the way. The trick was not to let them destroy our passion for one another.