The Portrait of a Scarred Duke by Patricia Haverton

Chapter 16

“I’ve not seen you so cheerful in the morning before,” said Simon, Seth’s valet. “You seem in exceptionally good spirits today, Your Grace.”

Seth smiled. “I do have an occasional good morning.”

In truth, it was the thought of Elinor which had caused such a good mood. She would be coming to paint him once more, and now that they were both using one another’s first names or—at least—had shared them, Seth felt as if something fundamental had changed about himself. He felt as if it had been an eternity since someone had spoken to him with such frankness.

There was something about Elinor, too, which reminded him of the sea. Her eyes were, of course, the same color. Upon further reflection, though, Seth had decided her bearing was rather sea-like, also. She was calm and yet unpredictable. She made him feel more welcome than he’d felt at the dukedom.

“I’m glad to hear it, Your Grace,” Simon continued.

Simon was a slight man with blond hair and hazel eyes. He’d been hired at the same time Letty had, so Seth barely knew the man. It was strange having a new valet, as he’d spent his entire life with Geoffrey dressing him every morning. Having someone occupying his old position made Seth feel strange. It was as if Worthwood had moved on in some ways, while he remained at once trapped in the past and too far away from the dukedom.

“What of your morning?” Seth asked.

“It was also a good one,” Simon replied.

Is that true, or are you only telling me that because it’s what you think I want to hear?

Unbidden, the image of Elinor came to his mind. If she had a bad morning, Seth suspected that Elinor would be unable to hide it. She would come to the estate as stormy as a raincloud, and everyone would know precisely how her morning had gone.

Sometimes, Seth suspected that Elinor told him what she thought he wanted to hear, but sometimes, she clearly didn’t. What a rare thing to find someone who would be honest with a Duke! Her uncle might have that same tendency. Seth had never cared to find out much about the man’s character, but it seemed that he ought to.

“I hope you continue to have a good morning,” Seth said. “I believe I will join my mother.”

He didn’t always get to join her for breakfast, but Seth tried to when he had no other urgent matters to attend to. Fortunately, the dukedom seemed to be managed well. Too well. It might’ve been his time at sea, but Seth could never entirely believe that things were really going as well as they seemed. Surely, the dukedom couldn’t really be managed as flawlessly as it seemed. He must be missing something crucial.

After bidding farewell to his valet, Seth seized his few moments of solitude. He liked his small bits of time alone. As the Duke, people seemed to be always around him, and that made it difficult to think.

I must sit for Elinor today, and after I’ve done that, I’ll need to review the papers her uncle left for me again. I should invite Henry to the estate and have him tell me some things, also.

As Seth walked down the corridor, heading towards where he’d join his mother, he paused by the window. The familiar, sleek carriage approached the entryway. Seth’s heart pounded. Even from the distance, he recognized the familiar blue cloak. Elinor, as usual, had arrived early to arrange her studio and mix her pigments before Seth sat for her.

Seth sighed, as she vanished from view. She stood in sharp contrast against the bleak, white landscape of the grounds in winter. He felt an ache curl in his chest, and he thought briefly of abandoning his resolve to join his mother in favor of happening upon Elinor. Maybe even before Letty had arrived.

You cannot do that.

He shook his head, but he couldn’t keep the smile from creeping across his face. Elinor was such a bright spot in his dull days, all of which had begun to blur together in one indistinct day of paperwork and letters. Maybe once Spring came, things would seem livelier. London was a good place for coming alive.

He’d attend the Season, and that would bring its own problems. It would bring a search for a wife, and it would also—if she was successful—herald Elinor’s absence. She wouldn’t come to the estate once the portrait was completed. The thought caught him unaware. Seth drew in a sharp breath.

She won’t be here forever.

His thought hurt as if it was a physical knife being plunged into his chest. She would be gone. If her father recovered, Elinor might not even remain at the estate until Spring, and the thought of her impeding absence made Seth feel as though he were on the verge of losing something infinitely precious.

“Your Grace?”

It was Jane, the lady’s maid. Seth forced a smile. “Good morning. I was just going to join my mother.”

“She might be a little delayed, Your Grace,” Jane said. “It’s been a difficult morning.”

“Is she well?” Seth asked softly.

Jane bit her lip. She seemed hesitant to meet his eyes. “I think she will be fine, Your Grace. She’s just tired this morning.”

Seth took a steadying breath. “Let her know that she doesn’t need to feel obligated to join me. If my mother is happier to spend the day in her room, I’ll come see her later. She doesn’t need to feel guilty about resting.”

“I shall tell her, Your Grace. But we have guests this morning—”

“Guests?”

“The Earl of Wilton,” Jane replied.

Seth blinked in surprise. “He’s here? Now?”

The lady’s maid nodded. “Yes, Your Grace.”

Jeremiah Guillan, the Earl of Wilton, had most certainly been invited by Seth’s mother, and he could easily guess why. Of all Seth’s childhood friends, Jeremiah was the one who’d taken best to the world of balls and parties, which occupied so much of the ton’s time. That was likely why Seth’s mother had invited the Earl, hoping that he’d help coax some enthusiasm for the Season from her son.

Seth smiled, remembering their years at school together and the mischief they’d both gotten into as young men. “It will be good to see Guillan. I’ll greet him. Tell my mother that she need not even worry about our guest unless she’s feeling well.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Jane replied. “That is kind of you.”

Seth quickened his steps, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. He hadn’t seen Guillan since he’d gone to sea.

And there he was! Seth grinned, and his gaze traced over his friend’s familiar face. There were a few new wrinkles around the corners of Guillan’s warm, brown eyes, and his auburn hair had grown a little longer. But otherwise, he looked remarkably unchanged. Guillan was just as sturdy and dependable, exuding a familiar and quiet strength.

“Good morning,” Seth said, leaning against the doorway. “I see that you’re still fond of your morning visits.”

Guillan rose slowly from the couch. His eyes were shining, and he gave Seth a rakish smile. “So I am. I’m at my best when I’m unexpected.”

“Are you?” Seth asked.

Guillan nodded. His expression fell the smallest amount, and Seth could sense the Earl’s eyes searching his face.

He’s trying not to look too hard at the scars.

Trying and failing. Seth searched his mind for some sort of jest he might make, desperate to shatter the awkward atmosphere between the two of them, but despite his best efforts, nothing came readily to his mind.

“It’s good to see you, Guillan.”

“And you,” Guillan paused, flashing a smile. “Your Grace.”

Seth shook his head. “Of all people, you know that I don’t expect you to call me that.”

“So humble,” Guillan replied, his expression still solemn and his brow furrowed with worry. “If I were a Duke, I’d have everyone calling me Your Grace. I wouldn’t care if you’d known me my entire life.”

“Somehow, I doubt that.”

Guillan shrugged. “So what have you been occupying yourself with?”

“I was planning on having breakfast with my mother, but she’s not feeling well this morning.”

“Unfortunate.”

Seth nodded. “Did you want to join me? We can dine in my study.”

That was often where Seth ate when he wasn’t joining his mother. Sometimes, he just liked solitude in the mornings, and Seth knew well that Guillan had never much liked formal dinners.

“That sounds nice.”

Seth led the way, pausing only to inform a passing maid of his intentions, so she could inform the kitchens. Guillan had fallen quiet behind him, and although he was sorely tempted, Seth didn’t turn to look at his friend. He suspected Guillan was thinking about his scars, probably still tracing over them in his mind’s eye.

“My mother wants me to participate in this Season,” Seth said, breaking the silence.

“She’d mentioned that,” Guillan replied.

A heavy silence descended between the two of them. Despite his resolve to wed a lady of the ton, he still doubted the success of this venture. It still sounded so utterly exhausting and now so foreign to him.

“Is that why you’re here?” Seth asked, keeping his tone light. “To offer friendly encouragement?”

Or perhaps, Guillan wanted to ensure Seth didn’t have romantic intentions towards a specific lady. Guillan was still a bachelor, despite his enthusiasm for balls and parties. Like all titled men, though, he’d eventually need to wed and produce a suitable heir.

“Something like that,” Guillan replied. “I also wanted to see you. I had heard about—about your…”

“Accident?” Seth asked.

Guillan sighed. They reached the study, and only then did Seth turn around and face his friend again. Guillan dropped his eyes, looking guilty. “Yes,” he admitted. “How have you been after it?”

“You sound as though I’ve died or something,” Seth replied.

“I can’t imagine that you haven’t been affected. Perhaps, very profoundly. I’ve never been fond of the sea, but…” Guillan trailed off.

Seth paused, his hand on the door. “I miss it still.”

He entered the study and went to his desk. Seth sensed Guillan’s eyes on him. His friend hadn’t spoken. He was probably trying to think of a proper response.

“Brandy?” Seth asked, producing two glasses.

Guillan offered an uneasy smile. “I’ll never refuse brandy.”

Seth grinned. “It is a bit better than what was available at sea.”

After Seth filled the glasses, Guillan took his and raised it in a toast before downing it in a single gulp. Then, Guillan sank into a nearby chair and gazed towards the ceiling, as if he hoped that he might find the best thing to say from the air above him.

Seth took his own sip of brandy, savoring the warmth which spread through his chest. He wasn’t a man who drank brandy all that often. “You’ll enjoy London,” Guillan said. “We’ve missed you.”

“Who is ‘we?’ Just yourself and my mother?”

“Everyone,” Guillan replied. “Gossip, you know. We’re all happy that you’re returned to us. Everyone…”

Guillan shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable. Seth clenched his jaw. “Everyone has already heard about what happened,” Seth replied, waving a hand towards his face. “That’s what you were going to say.”

“It occurred to me that I might be about to say something insensitive,” Guillan admitted. “I do apologize.”

“I don’t want you to pity me. I’m still exactly who I was.”

“No,” Guillan replied. “You can say that, but it isn’t true.”

Seth blinked at him, taken aback by his friend’s strong assertion. “I’m not?”

“Not at all,” Guillan replied. “You look different, and I’m sure that your years at sea have changed you in very profound ways. I’m just not precisely sure what those ways are yet.”

Seth ran a finger around the rim of his glass and pressed his lips together into a thin line, thinking hard. “I suppose that’s true.”

Guillan smiled sadly. “I wish I’d…well.”

“You’ve changed, too,” Seth replied. “You hesitate more than I remember.”

“It’s delicate territory.”

Seth raised an eyebrow. “I’m not a piece of glass, you know. If I have changed, I’m sure it’s for the better. I’m stronger now.”

Guillan sighed. “I wish I’d done more to try and stop you.”

“My mother says the same,” Seth replied, “as if either of you would’ve been able to persuade me otherwise. You both know how obstinate I’ve always been. The more you tried to convince me to remain at home, the more strongly I’d long to leave.”

“I know. But at the same time, I can’t help but feel as though I could’ve done more.”

Seth shook his head. “There’s nothing you could’ve done. You shouldn’t feel guilty. Besides, it’s—the scars are something people will get accustomed to.”

Seth hoped so, anyway. He was so tired of the pitying expressions—like the one which Guillan kept giving him. Elinor had become used to them, at least. If she, a beautiful woman, could learn to look at his scars without either repulsion or pity, surely others could, too.

“Let’s talk about something else,” Seth said. “Besides our past mistakes, of which we’ve both made many.”

“True,” Guillan replied, nudging his empty glass nearer to Seth.

Seth smirked and poured more brandy into the glass. “Shouldn’t you wait until the kitchens bring breakfast before drinking so much?”

“Who do you think you are? My wife?”

“I think you’d need to have a wife before you can say something like that,” Seth pointed out.

“Details,” Guillan replied, waving flippantly.

Seth smiled, his eyes wandering over his desk. He’d been looking over Henry’s papers, and they were presently spread all over the hardwood surface, sharing space with various pieces of correspondence. “How is being an Earl?”

“It’s fine,” Guillan replied. “Honestly, I imagine you’re feeling similarly. I feel like I’m never doing quite enough, regardless of how much I actually am doing. God only knows how my father managed everything so efficiently at his advanced age.”

Indeed, Guillan’s father had refused to relinquish even the smallest of the earldom’s responsibilities, even as he neared having eighty years.

“God rest his soul,” Seth said.

“Yes,” Guillan replied. “He was a remarkable man, truly. I do feel as though he’s left me—in some ways—unprepared for everything.”

“I do, also,” Seth admitted. “Maybe that’s simply how it is for all of us?”

“I don’t know. It seems hard to believe that either of our fathers ever found themselves anything less than suitable for the titles they’d been entrusted with.”

“Agreed.”

The staff arrived with food. It was a comparatively modest meal, which was how Seth preferred it. His time at sea had taught him to appreciate simple meals, and it still seemed surreal to find that breakfast was honey and plum cakes and brioche.

“What else is new?” Guillan asked. “I think Her Grace mentioned you’d been sitting for a portrait?”

“I have been.” Seth paused and smiled slyly. “I have a secret. I think it’ll amuse you, but you can’t share it with anyone.”

Guillan chewed a bite of a honey cake and swallowed. “Do share.”

“The original artist, who my mother commissioned, fell ill. We had to find a new artist to complete the job, and we did.”

“Is he any good?”

“She,” Seth replied, “is excellent. She produces excellent work.”

“Oh,” Guillan replied. “A female artist. That is interesting.”

Seth nodded. “My mother was reluctant to allow her to complete the job, but she’s agreed on the condition that we tell no one else.”

“You told me quite readily.”

“You’re my oldest friend. Besides, I anticipated that you’d find the truth interesting, and if you’re going to be around for the day, you’ll meet her anyway.”

Guillan hummed. There was something curious in his expression, which Seth couldn’t quite decipher. “What are you thinking, Guillan?”

His friend only smiled. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Now, I am worried.”

Guillan chuckled. “I just find your eagerness to share this secret news to be amusing. You’ve never expressed any particular interest in art before.”

“Of course I have.”

“No, you haven’t,” Guillan insisted. “You’ve never told me about any of the many artists who have painted your portrait before, and you’ve only ever talked about art when it’s been required of you. So I find it strange that you’d be so enthusiastic about sharing this secret about your female artist.”

“I feel an artist like her should have more recognition,” Seth said. “I suppose that’s it. It is unfortunate that people do not respect her as much as a male artist simply because of her sex. When she is so passionate and gifted.”

“And why is this woman a cause you feel so passionate about championing?” Guillan asked, sounding confused. “I remember when your mother was like that—remember? She was once very invested in improving women’s lots in life.”

She had been in Seth’s youth, but that fervor had died as his mother became older and found herself responsible for more and more. His mother had settled nicely into the role of Duchess and mother, and she’d had to abandon some of her old ambitions.

“I was young then,” Seth said at last. “I suppose I didn’t understand the importance of such things. I do now that I’m older.”

Guillan pursed his lips together and slowly shook his head. “Believe what you want,” he said, “but there’s something else you’re not telling me.”

Seth let out a small, disbelieving laugh. “I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

Guillan’s eyes sparkled, as though he himself had some secret burning inside of him. “We shall see,” he replied. “You seem rather emotionally invested, is what I mean. I wonder why that is?”

Seth stared at his friend. Maybe he was invested because Elinor was so kind. Maybe it was because she could make him laugh and smile. Or it was the way she seemed to sometimes forget that he was a Duke and she an artist. He’d never had anyone speak to him quite like Elinor did, and although he knew that he ought to find her comments sometimes improper, he still liked them. Anticipated them. Enjoyed them, even.

“She is a good woman,” Seth said slowly. “Isn’t that enough?”

He felt as though Guillan had stumbled upon some truth, though, which Seth wasn’t ready to share. Maybe there was something more to his fondness for Elinor and his desire to see her recognized for her work.

But it can’t be that I’m beginning to fall in love with her. That’s impossible.

Seth forced down the lump in his throat. He wasn’t falling in love. He didn’t even know what love was. And even if he did know, there was no way that a woman like Elinor would ever return his feelings. She was too beautiful, too talented, and too witty to ever be attracted to someone like him, Duke or no.