Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

P hillip paced his study. He had hardly spoken to his wife since their brief argument over her father in the dining room three days ago. Eleanor had been taking breakfast in bed, and he hadn't pressed the issue. In truth, he didn't know what to do about her or their situation, and he was as glad of the space as she was.

The debts of the estate had all been cleared the previous day, and he could now turn his attention to repairing and redecorating areas that desperately needed it. He should be working on a plan for that, but it didn't feel right to do it without Eleanor. It was her home too. She should have a say in it.

Giving her a say in it, however, meant speaking to her, and Phillip still didn't know if she'd forgiven him for his insisting that her father hadn't been trying to get rid of her when he'd married her off to him. William had done it to protect his daughter and to see to her eventual happiness. Phillip had the distinct sense that the older man would be waiting quite some time to see that come about. Eleanor seemed determined to stay aloof, cold and unhappy. Perhaps he should go see her about the design plans after all. It would give her something to do and perhaps make her feel that the estate was truly her home too.

What is she doing right now?

Phillip paced to the windows of the study that overlooked the back garden. The new gardener had cleaned everything up nicely, and the plants and shrubs were no longer growing in all directions, though the bushes did look a little bare now that the excess growth had been cut away to reveal the inside where they hadn't seen the light of day in ages. The Duke spotted a small figure in blue silk on the grass with a tiny white ball of fluff snoozing beside her and sighed. Somehow, he had to get through to Eleanor, show her that he really did want her there for reasons that went beyond her dowry. He doubted he could convince her of her father's good intentions, but he prayed that he could convince her of his, at least.

Phillip would include her in the design planning. It would be good for Eleanor to see that he meant to have her involved in every aspect of his home and his life, to the extent that was possible anyway. The sooner she began to see it, the better. He had to approach her carefully, though, as she reminded him of a wounded animal ready to lash out at anyone who would come too near for fear they too would inflict some terrible pain on her. Perhaps someday she would realize that he had never intended to harm her and that everything had happened in good faith.

Leaving the room, Phillip strode down the hallway to the winding staircase and descended to the entrance hall. He quickly passed through the house, pausing in the kitchen to ask Annie about lunch.

"Has my wife eaten already?" he asked his head cook.

"No, Your Grace. She is out in the garden reading, I believe. She took an apple and nothing else."

He nodded. "Good. Will you please prepare a picnic lunch and have it brought out to the back garden? I find myself in the mood to enjoy the weather with my wife this afternoon."

Annie smiled. "As you wish, Your Grace."

"Thank you." He left the house through the kitchen door and strolled out to the back garden.

At first, Eleanor did not notice him. She was engrossed in her book, her face relaxed and open in a way he hadn't seen since the last of his visits to her before their wedding. He lingered on the edge of the garden, watching her read as the wind flicked wisps of her hair free from her bun.

Phillip remembered how her hair had looked gleaming in the firelight, long and wavy after she had let it down for the day. That evening should have been his wedding night. Had he kissed her, it might have been. Yet, if he had kissed her that night, he would have earned nothing but her loathing in the following morning when the light of day would make what would have happened far less romantic and the heat of the moment would pass.

When he would finally have her, he would have to do it the right way. He had to make certain that she knew she mattered to him. There was no doubt in his mind anymore that she did. He might have begun this little scheme because of his debts, but it had been no hardship at all to know he would have the little spitfire sitting in his back garden right now, not after he'd come to know her. It had quickly become about so much more than money for him, and he wished he knew how to prove that to her so that they could leave it behind them and go back to the pleasant friendship they had shared in the days before their wedding. Before she realized he had not told her the truth and decided he had betrayed her and lied to her for months.

Eleanor looked so innocent and content there, and it sent a sharp ache through Phillip's heart to realize that as soon as she knew he was there, she would lose that relaxed, happy look. He hesitated on the edge of the garden, contemplating a quiet retreat back to the house. He even turned to go, but before he could walk away, Bella stirred and barked in excitement.

He looked over his shoulder to find Eleanor staring at him, her expression wary and confused. She had closed the book she had been reading and risen after Bella had alerted her to his presence, but she had not moved closer. Eleanor held his gaze, and he turned to face her too. Now that she knew he was there, there was no point for him to flee back to the house. He would discuss with her the matter at hand.

"Your Grace," Eleanor murmured. "Do you require something of me?"

Phillip glanced back at the house, remembering that Annie was preparing a picnic lunch for them. He went and joined Eleanor, sitting on the grass a few feet away so that she wouldn't feel crowded by his presence. "The debts left against the estate because of my uncle's dreadful management of finances have been paid. Now, I wish to turn my attention to repairs and renovations within the house. Nothing terribly extravagant, of course, but much of the wood needs re-staining and polishing, carpets and drapes need replacing and the furniture in the sitting room needs new upholstery."

Eleanor stared demurely down at her hands. "None of that explains what you need of me, Your Grace."

Phillip suppressed a scowl.

Why can't she stop using my title?

He was beginning to hate the sound of his title on her lips. It sounded like a verbal attack every time she uttered it, and he wanted to hear anything from her lips but his title now. "I thought you might like to be involved in the design, Eleanor. It is your home too. It feels wrong to make all the decisions about it without you."

She shrugged. "You are my husband, Your Grace. It is ordinary for you to make all of the decisions. Why should this be any different? You do not require my assistance on this matter."

"Please, let us not do this today." Phillip's shoulders slumped, and he sighed. "I came out to request your help in good faith. I understand that I do not need you to make decisions about our home, but I would like to involve you. I want you to like the estate as well."

"I care little for what my prison looks like, Your Grace." Eleanor looked him in the eye. "You may make whatever decisions you like. I do not care. So far as I am concerned, if you and my father could make the decision to force me to wed, there is no other more important decision that you can make for me, and I will not concern myself with the less important ones, since you did not think I ought to concern myself with the most important one. You are the lord of the manor, Your Grace. Decide how your manor will look on your own." She rose and began to walk towards the house.

"Eleanor, wait!" Phillip rose too but did not go after her.

She paused and turned to look at him.

"This was never meant to be a prison. I only wish you to be happy."

Eleanor's shoulders slumped. "Property is not intended to be happy or unhappy. It merely changes hands to be used as the owners see fit. I am perfectly aware of it, even if you are not. Good afternoon, Your Grace."

"Stop." His voice lacked its usual force, and he sounded as tired as he felt, even to his own ears. "Eleanor, stop. I asked them to prepare us a picnic lunch to eat outside after Annie told me you had yet to eat. Stay and eat with me."

"I am not hungry."

"Do it anyway."

"Is that a command, Your Grace?" Eleanor turned to face him, clutching the book to her chest.

"It is a request… Please, do not make me beg."

She shrugged and returned to his side, sitting on a bench a few feet away with Bella at her feet. "As you wish, Your Grace."

"What I wish is not always the most important thing," Phillip murmured. "What you wish also matters a great deal."

Eleanor laughed in genuine amusement, though the look in her eyes told him she laughed because she believed his statement was ludicrous. "What I wish does not matter at all. Not to you. Not to my father."

"What can I do to prove to you that it does?" He stood and joined her on the bench, daring to bridge the gap between them to take her hands in his. "Tell me, and I will do it."

"You could annul this farce of a marriage." She pulled her hands free, all laughter gone now.

"I cannot. You know I cannot. It would ruin you, Eleanor."

"Good. Perhaps my father will not try to force me into another man's arms afterwards."

"You cannot mean that!" Phillip grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. "Look at me, Eleanor. You cannot mean it. Surely life here with me is not so bad that you would prefer such shame over being my wife. Tell me it is not."

Eleanor didn't look at him. "Life here is like living in a cage. My desires are to be subject to yours, and I have no freedom or standing of my own. I will never live on my terms."

"None of us ever live fully on our terms," he murmured. "Not even I can claim the power to do such a thing. There will always be someone to whom we all must submit. Am I such a terrible man to submit to? I would cherish you dearly if you let me."

She pulled away from him. "This is a marriage of convenience, Your Grace. Yours and my father's. There is nothing about it that invites warmth or love. Let us not pretend otherwise, if you please."

"It does not have to be that way!" Phillip stood up and paced in front of her, ignoring Bella, who was at his heels with an agitated whine. "I do not want it to be that way. Do you?"

"I can see no other path for us." Eleanor set the book on the bench with a frown. "You lied to me by omission. You looked me in the eye and told me that things might turn out better than I had hoped while knowing that you would be the one to ruin my life. You told me nothing of my father's plans even when you could have!"

"I could not!" He rounded on her, crossing his arms. "I could not, Eleanor! I wanted you badly. I begged your father to let me court you properly, but he refused me. He told me that if I wanted you, it would be on his terms, so you are not the only one who must play by another's rules from time to time. You do not find me complaining about it, though!"

Her lower lip trembled, and she stared down at the ground. "You have what you want by dancing to another's tune, Your Grace. I stand to gain nothing if I do."

You stand to gain everything ! That was what he wanted to shout at her, but it would fix nothing. She didn't believe his claim to want her or his desire to love her. She thought he was playing yet another cruel game, lying to her about his intentions, trying to pretend that this was not what it was—a loveless match made to pay off his debts and get her off her father's hands. In her mind, Eleanor stood to gain nothing and would not see otherwise until he found some way to crack her shell to reach the woman hiding beneath it. Shouting at her would only push her further away.

Phillip took a step back, his throat constricting. "That is not true. You may not believe me now, but I hope you will someday. Never mind the lunch. Annie will bring it to you, and you may eat it alone. I will make the decisions about the design alone if you truly do not wish to be a part of renovating your own home."

Her lips pressed in a thin line, and she finally looked up. "I believe you are offering it only as a way to shackle me to this place, if not to you. I do not want to be tied to you or this place. The first I cannot control, the second I can."

"Then control it, if you must." He sighed and shook his head. "Maybe he will never have his wish."

Eleanor frowned in confusion. "Who?"

"It does not matter. You will not believe me if I tell you. Enjoy your afternoon, Eleanor." Phillip spun on his heel and returned to the house in defeat.

Upon entering the kitchens, he told Annie that he would take his lunch in his study while his wife would take hers in the garden. At that pace, William would be in his grave before Eleanor ceased her stubborn refusal to be treated as a wife instead of a prisoner, and he would not live to see his wish for her happiness fulfilled if she would persist in her stubborn behavior for the years to come. Phillip would not have his happiness either, and the realization left him cold and despondent. How would he survive his marriage if Eleanor would never hold any affection for him?

Not for the first time, Phillip cursed his uncle for dying and leaving him such a mess. If not for his uncle's abominable lack of concern for the estate's finances, he would not be in this situation at all. He truly didn't think he could loathe another as much as he loathed his deceased uncle at that moment.

Eleanor couldn't make sense of Phillip. He had insisted that he did not marry her for the money, and yet, she could not believe that to be true. His revelation in the garden two days ago still niggled at her. Had her father truly ordered him not to court her? Had Phillip really wished to court her and given up that option to have her?

Thinking about it all made her head hurt, so she abandoned the worry and returned to her original course of action. She would behave as a reluctant bride, capitulating to her husband in everything as a prisoner with no will or right to an opinion of her own. Perhaps in time he might grow weary of her and let her go, revealing once and for all that his real interest was in nothing but her money. Then, she would be as free as a married woman could be, for a man concerned only with his wife's money would rarely bother her with concerns about the house's decor or anything that was not necessary to keep up appearances before the ton. It was best that way, since love was not an option.

Still, the near kiss bothered her as did his absence from her bed. He might have married her for the money, but what good would money do him if he had no heirs to pass it on to? Phillip hadn't even come to her room after she retired since that first evening, and it left her both wanting and uneasy.

Eleanor lay on her bed, staring up at the green velvet canopy with Bella pressed against her side. Why had Phillip chosen not to kiss her? He had married her against her wishes with her father's help. He now had a right to take from her whatever he pleased whenever he wished. Why hadn't he acted on it? It was clear he had wanted to, but he had settled for kissing her on the forehead and bidding her goodnight before leaving her chambers.

Groaning in frustration, she sat up and put on a day cap to go downstairs. Sarah was visiting today for the first time since her wedding, and she would be here at any moment. Eleanor hurried down to the parlor to find that Annie had instructed the maids to lay out tea as she had requested. The pot was wrapped in a knitted tea cozy to keep it warm, and the cups sat daintily on the saucers beside it. The sugar bowl and small cream pitcher were freshly filled, and the whole tray had been arranged nicely on the little table by the window.

There was a knock at the door of the parlor, and Eleanor turned to find Anna, one of the older maids, waiting at the threshold. "Lady Sarah is here to see you, Your Grace."

"Thank you, Anna. Please show her in."

A few moments later, Sarah swanned in. When she spotted Eleanor by the window, she rushed over and embraced her friend with a laugh. "Eleanor! It is so good to see you."

"Likewise, Sarah." Eleanor hugged her friend close, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. How she had missed having her friend at her side! "You must tell me how you have been faring. Come and sit with me here at the table."

Sarah did, her cheeks pink and eyes twinkling with excitement. "Well, I have a viscount courting me now. Mama believes I may bring him up to scratch soon, and I admit that I am quite excited about the prospect. He is a good man, I believe, and quite generous."

"I am… well, I cannot understand your enthusiasm about it, but I am happy for you, since I know you have wished to get married for some time now."

Sarah's smile fell. "I hope you will not hold it against me, Eleanor. Really, I have no wish to hurt you with my enthusiasm… but you must tell me. How is life here with His Grace?"

Eleanor busied herself with pouring the tea to buy herself a moment to think. She didn't want to tell Sarah that she hated it. The truth was that she lacked for nothing except for her freedom, and she couldn't truthfully tell her friend that she was ill-treated or miserable. If she was unhappy, it was not because the Duke had not tried to make her feel otherwise. "You know how I feel about marriage, Sarah."

"Yes, but I had thought it might change now that you are married," Sarah murmured. "Has it not? Is he cruel? I did not take him to be so, but appearances can be misleading."

"He is… confusing. He is not cruel, however. It is only that I detest losing my freedom to a man, no matter how kind or generous he might be."

"Do you not think you could come to love him?" Sarah sipped at her tea with a frown. "I know the way it came about was rushed, but surely…"

"There was no courtship, Sarah." Eleanor finally broke down in tears and told her friend what had happened. "My father did not even inform me that I was to be wed to His Grace or that we were arriving at my own wedding until we were getting off the carriage."

"Really?" Sarah's eyes widened. "And His Grace did not tell you himself?"

"No. He claims my father told him that if he wished to marry me, he would keep the wedding a secret. The two of them both betrayed me horribly, and I cannot find it in myself to forgive them for the loss of my freedom and the lies."

"Oh, Eleanor." Sarah reached across the small table and took Eleanor's hand in hers. "I am sure they meant well, though I admit it is rather strange. But how has he been treating you since then?"

Eleanor's mind drifted to the frustrating almost kiss and Phillip's avoiding her since that day in the garden. "I do not believe he really wants me… He nearly kissed me the night after our wedding, but then he did not and left me with a distant goodbye. Since then, we have spoken only a little. He tried to involve me in the renovations of the house…"

"And?"

"I refused. He could decide on my marriage without my assistance. Why not this too?"

Sarah coughed and took a sip of her tea. "Eleanor," she began gently. "Perhaps he was trying to make up for what happened. You should have accepted. This is your house too after all."

"It is my cage, not my house, however gilded it may be." Eleanor lifted her own teacup to her lips and took a sip of the fragrant floral brew. "Besides, he only wishes to find a way to make it seem as if I am not a wife of convenience."

"You said he almost kissed you but refrained." Sarah frowned. "That does not seem as if he does not want you. Perhaps you are misreading the situation in your understandable fury over the initial hurt he and your father caused you, Eleanor."

"Nonsense." Eleanor waved her friend off. "If he wanted me, he could have had me. I am his wife, I must capitulate to his whims and desires, and we both know it."

"Did you wish to be kissed? How did this near kiss come about?"

Eleanor shifted in her seat, her cheeks reddening. Sarah always did have a way of asking all the wrong questions, specifically the questions that the other party did not want to consider.

"Eleanor?" Sarah pressed.

"Oh, very well!" Eleanor huffed. "I suppose I did wish to be kissed at that moment, though it was very silly of me! I despise the man for what he did. As for how it happened, we were arguing about just that, what he did, and I tried to slap him."

Sarah gasped. "You did what!"

"I tried to slap him," Eleanor muttered. "He deserved it! He tried to apologize for leaving me to tend to our guests alone as though that was what he really ought to apologize for, not the fact that he bargained with my father for my hand like I was chattel."

"Eleanor, really!" Sarah heaved a sigh. "It is a remarkable display of restraint from him that he did not slap you himself for such behavior. You have a much better man than many women of the ton do, and you still tried to slap him. He likely did not kiss you because he did not wish to force his desire upon you when you were so angry with him."

Eleanor blushed. That hadn't occurred to her, though it seemed obvious now when Sarah voiced it out loud. "I… I had not considered that a possibility. But he has not touched me ever since! Whatever strange desire overcame him in my chambers on our wedding night is clearly not on his mind now. I am certain he is not spending his time thinking about me or the kiss unless he is wishing he never met me, let alone wanted to kiss me."

"Sometimes you can be so very obtuse." Sarah finished off her cup of tea and poured herself another one. "Perhaps he knows you still resent him and believe he is lying about his interest in you. If I were a man with a wife who felt thus, I would not attempt to visit her chambers either."

Eleanor grimaced and dropped her gaze to her cup. "Do you truly think I am being so unreasonable?"

"I think you are being stubborn, as you always are. Sometimes it is a good thing. But in this instance, I do not believe it is. From what you describe, His Grace seems like a good and decent man. A man who wants to make peace and find mutual respect, if not love. Would that be so dreadful?" Sarah eyed her over the rim of her teacup. "Tell me truly, what would be so awful about giving in and seeing where it might lead?"

"I would lose my freedom!"

Sarah's expression softened. "Eleanor, you already have, at least what you define as freedom. But has His Grace given you any reason to believe he will clip your wings in this marriage should you submit to him?"

Eleanor bit her lip. No, he had not. In fact, he had given her ample proof that it would be the opposite. Still, he had lied about so many things during the odd courtship they had during his visits to her father's estate. "I cannot trust that his behavior is not a ruse," she murmured.

Sarah sighed. "Then I suppose you must resign yourself to being miserable until you decide that you can trust him. Come, let us not spend the rest of the visit on such somber topics. Would you mind showing me the house? It looks very lovely from what little I have seen, though I can see why His Grace thinks that repairs and renovations are necessary."

Eleanor leapt at the opportunity to escape the awkward conversation with a smile. "Of course! I would be delighted to show you around. When we are finished, perhaps we might take a stroll in the gardens."

She and Sarah both stood up and linked arms.

"Give him a chance, Eleanor. That is the last I will say on the matter."