The Portrait of a Scarred Duke by Patricia Haverton
Chapter 18
“Iwas supposed to sit for Elinor, and I forgot. I can’t believe I forgot,” Seth said.
Across his desk, Henry stood awkwardly, looking as though he’d just wandered into some strange territory and wasn’t sure how to navigate it.
“I apologize,” Seth said, leaning back in his chair. “My friend—the Earl—came to call yesterday, and I was so distracted by his visit that I forgot I was supposed to sit for Elinor. For Miss Thorebourne, I mean.”
“I’m sure my niece understood the reason for your absence,” Henry replied. “Surely, Elinor knows that your duties to the dukedom are more important than a portrait.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Seth replied, clasping his hands together over his desk, “but I still regret that I forgot to even send her word. I’ve likely caused her some grief. She was anticipating my presence, so she could continue her work.”
Henry lowered himself to his chair and smiled. “It happens to the best of us, Your Grace. I’m sure that Elinor will understand.”
“Yes,” Seth said.
He didn’t say anything about the seed of regret which bloomed in his chest. He’d missed an opportunity to spend time with Elinor, to sit before her and watch the way her eyes narrowed when she looked intently at him, silently tracing the shapes of his scars—
I must stop thinking of her.
It was because he was so starved for a woman’s attention. Elinor was an artist. She was paid to look at him and to please him, and he must remember that. He forced down a lump that rose in his throat. Somehow, impossibly, he’d become…
Enchanted with her. Or maybe infatuated. He presence stirred up so many tender feelings which he’d forgotten he even had.
“Are you pleased with her work?” Henry asked.
“Of course,” Seth replied. “Elinor was clearly taught very well. She’s a very skilled artist, and it’s even more impressive that she was never classically trained like some artists are.”
Henry hummed. His right hand tapped his knee, playing some melody that Seth couldn’t hear. “Yes, it’s my hope and her father’s that her skills will be enough for her to support herself.”
“I’m certainly she shall,” Seth replied.
Henry offered a small shrug. “I like to think so, but it’s difficult for a woman to survive on her own. I know that her father would prefer she be wed.”
“Understandably so.”
He imagined it—Elinor happily wed to another artist and living in the countryside of the dukedom—and his face warmed. Seth drew in a sharp breath. Something hard and bitter curled in his chest.
“Elinor,” he said, his throat raw, “doesn’t need to wed anyone. I think she’s independent and determined enough to manage on her own, and I think she’d be happier that way. Based on what she has said.”
“Has she spoken often about her feelings on marriage?”
It probably sounds as though I’ve been talking to her far more than I should have. I need to say something quickly before her uncle thinks I’ve ill intentions towards his beloved niece.
“She’s mentioned it once or twice,” Seth replied. “Sometimes, we talk when she’s painting me. Elinor doesn’t like to work in silence.”
Seth was almost certain that Elinor had discussed being unmarried when he’d arrived unannounced in her father’s studio, but Henry didn’t need to know that specific detail. He didn’t need to know that Seth had met Elinor alone at all.
Seth cleared his throat. “I hope you aren’t worried about your niece painting me. We ensure that a chaperone is always present, so you need not worry about anything untoward occurring. And, of course, I would never do anything to tarnish her reputation.”
“I didn’t doubt you, Your Grace,” Henry said. “I suppose I’m just thinking of the future, but then, that’s what I’m supposed to do. I wouldn’t be a very effective steward if I didn’t think about what the years may bring. For all of us.”
“Of course,” Seth said. This seemed like a good opportunity to discuss the dukedom, so he withdrew the papers Henry had brought him weeks before. “I looked through the financial records, and there’s something that concerns me.”
“Oh?” Henry asked, straightening.
“It seems like we’ve spent a rather large amount of money on bridges in the northwest corner of the dukedom,” Seth replied, “and I know that’s not one of the well-traveled regions. Did something happen? I’d wanted to ask you about it.”
Henry furrowed his brow. “If money was spent there, I’m quite sure it was needed.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Seth said. “I’m just trying to understand why. If I recall, there are only a handful of villages there. I just don’t understand why the expenses.”
“May I see?” Henry asked.
Seth nodded and turned the paper. Already, he’d marked the strange discrepancy, for it had haunted him since he’d looked over the papers.
“Ah, it must’ve been an accident of some kind,” Henry said. “Although those villages are small, many of them run along the Thames. It behooves us to keep the bridges there well-maintained. I’m certain that the additional expenses were for something like that, although given time, I can find the original receipts for you.”
Maintenance?
Seth stared at the numbers. Admittedly, he’d not looked at the dukedom’s records in a very long time, but the expense seemed too large to him. Even for maintenance.
“Would you?” Seth asked. “I’d like to look at it. And if you could provide me with records from the last few years, I’d like to see them, too.”
Henry smiled. “You’re quite meticulous.”
“Thank you. I’m trying to be,” Seth said. “I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t do the best I could for the dukedom, although I’ll soon, hopefully, have a Duchess to assist in some aspects.”
A Duchess wouldn’t touch financial records or speak at parliament, but one could manage the house and be a comfort to his mother. And Seth felt that he might not be so out of place back at home if he knew there was someone tending to the estate.
“Yes,” Henry replied. “That could be good. I imagine you’ll want an unconventional Duchess.”
Seth blinked, surprised. “An unconventional one?”
“A modern lady,” Henry qualified. “If it’s not too bold of me to say, I think a very progressive lady would suit you well.”
Why are you trying to suggest who I ought to marry? Did my mother ask you to do this?
Seth furrowed his brow. His mother really was pushing him, he knew that. Asking the steward to get involved seemed to be a little excessive, though. Maybe Henry had thought to mention the matter on his own. Seth supposed that he had as much reason to be concerned about the dukedom’s future Duchess as anyone.
“I don’t know what sort of wife I’d like,” Seth replied. “I think the sea is the only lady whose company I desire.”
The image of Elinor’s sea-blue eyes came to mind. He thought of her standing before the roaring waves of Cornwall, her brown hair loose and tossed in the wind. And he imagined her sweet smile and her flushed cheeks, like roses and cream. He shouldn’t think of her like that.
It’s nothing. Once I’ve returned to London and am surrounded by the ton’s ladies, I’ll no longer think of her. This is only a passing fancy.
He was almost afraid to think of his feelings for Elinor as a passing fancy, for that seemed dangerously close to admitting that he was attracted to her.
“The sea is a good lady,” Henry replied, “but she cannot give you the heirs you desire.”
“Alas.”
“How are you doing otherwise?” Henry asked. “I hope you aren’t languishing here on your estate.”
Sometimes, he felt like he was. Elinor had made it a little more bearable, though.
“Hardly,” Seth replied. “It’s nice, and I think it’s preferable to going straight to London from the ship.”
Henry nodded, but it was hard to say what he felt about the answer. Seth began to feel like he was being interrogated a little.
“At any rate,” Seth said. “I am sure that I’ll manage fine. If you can just find those records for me, I’d be very appreciative. We’ll see what the Season holds and decide what to do from there. I’d like to survey the dukedom myself.”
“Survey it?”
“Yes,” Seth replied. “I’d like to travel across it and see what state everything is in.”
Henry let out a small, baffled laugh. “That seems a little excessive, Your Grace,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but there’s no need for that. I can assure you that everything is well.”
Seth furrowed his brow. “I believe you, but I’d still feel better if I saw everything myself.”
“Your father never did.”
“Be that as it may,” Seth replied, “there is always a way to improve things, and I think the dukedom would benefit from this. My tenants, too, should be introduced to their new Duke.”
“Your reasoning is sound,” Henry said, “but you must also remember your own obligations, Your Grace. You don’t want to spend your time doing things which have never been done and never needed to be done. In trying to do everything, you might inadvertently neglect responsibilities which you genuinely need to fulfill.”
“I understand that, but I won’t fail at them. I’ve thought a great deal about how to manage my affairs to the benefit of the people I’m responsible for. These aren’t idle choices that I’m making.”
Henry inclined his head, acknowledging the words. “I know that you have, but I also know that you are a young Duke and a new one. I’m not sure if you fully understand the enormity of what you’ve been asked to take upon your shoulders.”
Seth felt a spark of irritation. He took a steadying breath to calm himself before he said something that he regretted. It was true that he was new to the position, and his father had been Duke for a very long time. Surely, it was expected that Henry, who was accustomed to doing things a certain way, would be hesitant to change them.
“I have the utmost respect for you,” Seth said, considering his words carefully. “However, I feel as though I’ve been away for so long that I must try all the harder to belong here and to prove myself worthy of the title I’ve been given. I will do this whether it is necessary or not.”
“I see.”
Seth kept his face carefully composed. He didn’t want to anger Henry, but he also knew that he needed to do something new. He needed to break tradition. He needed to familiarize himself with the dukedom and her people again, and that wouldn’t happen if he remained locked away on the estate or in London and didn’t talk to his tenants.
“Do you intend to take the Duchess with you?” Henry asked. “Surely, you don’t intend to wed and then abandon your new, young bride.”
He didn’t have a bride yet, and he still might not have one from a single Season. It seemed ridiculous to plan everything around some eventual person who might not arrive for a while yet.
“I suppose that will be for her to decide,” Seth replied. “If my bride wishes to join me, she may. If she wishes to remain on the estate or in London, that will be her choice, too. I don’t intend to marry for love, and I think you’ll agree that such a thing may be very well impossible for me.”
“I wouldn’t say impossible,” Henry replied. “Unlikely, perhaps. But not impossible.”
“The point still stands.”
Henry nodded slowly. The man looked as though he was contemplating something carefully, as if he and Seth were playing an intricate game of chess against one another.
Are we playing against one another?
That wasn’t how a Duke and steward were supposed to work together, not at all. But Henry didn’t seem willing to accept change, and thus far, all he’d done was try and persuade Seth to his way of thinking. No compromise had even been raised.
I don’t think we’ll work well together.
“I shall retrieve the records you asked for and look into how we might most efficiently survey the dukedom,” Henry said at last. “I suppose there’s no hurry on the latter, though. Not until we’ve seen what the Season brings.”
“Perhaps not,” Seth agreed.
The air between them seemed suddenly heavy and tense. Seth wondered if Henry looked at him and thought that he was simply young and impulsive.
“Well, I’ll take my leave if there’s nothing further to discuss,” Henry said.
“There isn’t,” Seth replied. “I thank you for meeting me today and for your advice.”
Henry’s lips twitched into a dry smile. “Even if you don’t intend to heed it.”
“Even then,” Seth replied. “I appreciate your willingness to tell me what you think. And to tell me honestly.”
One thing Seth hadn’t missed about being an aristocrat was how people often said what they thought he wanted to hear, rather than what they actually thought. In that one respect, Elinor was actually quite like her uncle, but somehow, it didn’t vex Seth when Elinor said what she meant. Even if she disagreed with him.
There was just something about her uncle which made Seth wary. He forced a smile. “I shall cherish your advice as much as my father did, and knowing what a stubborn man he was, I’m quite sure he also didn’t always act as you advised.”
“On the contrary, Your Grace, he usually did act as I advised,” Henry replied. “Your father very seldom took another course of action.”
He hadn’t? Seth stared at Henry for a long moment. That didn’t sound like his father, but then, Seth had cared so little about how his father managed his affairs in those days. Becoming the Duke and having those worries had always seemed so far away.
“I am not my father, then,” Seth said. “Nonetheless, I will do what I think is best for Worthwood, and if I err, I’ll learn from it. I suppose that’s the best I can promise you.”
“Understandably,” Henry replied, standing.
Seth stood, too. “Thank you, again.”
Although Henry smiled, the expression was strained. “The honor was mine, Your Grace.”
The steward turned quickly on his heel and made to leave. Seth followed the other man’s movements until he’d gone from sight.
I don’t trust him.
But Seth had no idea why. Surely, it wasn’t just because Henry disagreed with him, was it? Seth knew that he could be sometimes too uncompromising in his convictions, but he’d never thought of himself as petty.
“So what is it?” he murmured, sinking into his chair.
He sat there for several minutes, trying to decide why all his instincts were telling him that Henry was not a man who could be trusted, but Seth’s distrust seemed to have no logical reason. But if being a seaman had taught Seth anything, it was that his instincts were usually right.