The Portrait of a Scarred Duke by Patricia Haverton

Chapter 19

“Isee you’re repaying me for the most grievous insult which I dealt to you. Hell truly hath no fury like a woman scorned.”

Seth sat in his usual place, his green eyes shining with mischief. Elinor fought futilely against a furious blush which had spread across her face. “I was hoping you’d be late today, Your Grace.”

It had been only a few days since Seth missed his last sitting, and the irony of Elinor herself being late to the very next sitting wasn’t lost on her. She’d stayed awake too late, tending to some of her father’s smaller commissions and resisting the urge to destroy Miss Young’s painting, which now seemed to mock her. It was quite apparent the heiress had changed her mind, and the portrait would remain in the studio for some time. And so, Elinor had been awakened by Seth’s driver, who’d been far too amused to find her suddenly jolted from sleep.

“It appears that I am on time, though,” replied Seth, looking around him in mock wonder.

“So you are, Your Grace. I apologize for being late.”

Seth opened his mouth as if he meant to say something, but then, his eyes darted to Letty, in her usual place. He fell silent.

“I shall begin quickly, Your Grace,” Elinor said.

“You’d best, although I suppose it’s fair. It was very ungracious of me not to join you when I agreed to.”

“I understand you were occupied with a guest. I’m sure that took precedence.”

Seth tilted his head and nodded. “It was a pleasant surprise, yes.”

Elinor smiled and donned her apron, tying it around her waist. As she prepared her materials for the day, she was conscious of Seth’s eyes on her, watching her every move. He was interested in what she did, something which Elinor had never quite noticed before. Maybe it was because he’d never really paid attention to an artist before. Maybe he’d never befriended an artist before.

“I think I frightened him a little,” Seth continued.

“What did you do to the poor Earl?”

Seth waved a hand towards his face. “When I first expressed a desire to go to sea, Guillan tried to persuade me otherwise. He told me the sea was dangerous and insisted that I’d regret my decision to become a seaman. I think he fears that his prophecy has come true.”

“They’re only scars,” Elinor said hesitantly.

Seth seemed to notice. “You say that as if you don’t believe yourself.”

“That’s not it. I worried I might upset you by saying they’re only scars, as if they’ve had a small impact on you. I’m sure that your appearance has impacted much since you’ve returned. People are cruel.”

“It’s so kind of you to think of me,” Seth said. “That doesn’t upset me.”

“So what does your friend, the Earl, do?” Elinor inquired. “If I’m allowed to ask.”

Seth smiled warmly. When Elinor motioned for him to assume his usual pose, he did. “Well, he frequents parties and balls, theater and operas. He has danced with every lady in the ton and likely paid compliments to them all, and yet he seems determined to be a single man for a long while.”

Elinor raised an eyebrow. “And no one cares that this lord believes he’s going to remain unwed forever?”

Seth chuckled and shook his head. “No, they do care. His poor mother has been trying to see him wed for a long time, but he refuses to relent.”

It seemed rather humorous, in a strange way, that everyone seemed so reluctant to pursue marriage, while all their relations resolved to force them into it.

“Perhaps this Season,” Elinor replied, “You and your friend can both find brides.”

“Hopefully. I fear that Guillan may have been swayed to my mother’s side. He might decide to devote the entire Season to finding me a bride, and I can only imagine his efforts to see me wed ending in disaster.”

Elinor dipped her brush into paint, noting that Seth tilted his chin and relaxed his expression without being asked. She hadn’t seen his friend, the Earl, but he seemed like lively company.

“Do you fear that the Earl has poor taste in wives?” Elinor asked.

“No. I fear that he’d try some elaborate scheme to see me wed,” Seth replied, sounding more fond than irritated. “Guillan is not a simple man. He will often find overly complicated solutions to even the easiest problems, and I’m both awed by that talent and a little afraid of it. He’s a good man. And a loyal friend.”

“That’s good.”

“Yes. What of you? Any childhood friends hoping to see you married this Spring?”

Elinor shook her head. “I don’t know that I really have friends.”

Letty was becoming something close to a friend. She was honest and earnest, and Elinor felt as though she could speak frankly with the other young woman.

And Seth, if she could call him a friend. She knew that a Duke could only ever be so close to someone who wasn’t among the ton.

“Just your father, if I recall,” Seth said.

“Yes.”

Companionable silence lapsed between them, and Elinor studied the small, pale hint of Seth’s neck, which peeked above his cravat. Seth’s skin was tanned more than most of his peers, doubtlessly the result of his sailing and the sun beating upon his shoulders.

“I find it difficult to believe that you’ve no friends,” Seth said. “You seem like an amicable woman.”

The Duke’s eyes darted past Elinor’s shoulder. She suspected he was looking at Letty, trying to judge her reaction and weigh his words carefully. It wouldn’t be proper for Seth to be too kind to her. Elinor knew that, but she felt a sudden, fiery spark inside herself.

It was frustrating, having a friend who couldn’t behave too much like a friend.

“Because my mother died when I was young, I never really had anyone to guide me,” Elinor said carefully. “I don’t think my father quite knew what to do with a daughter, so he didn’t make an effort to introduce me to any of the other girls in our village.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

Elinor shrugged. “Even if he had, that doesn’t mean the other girls would’ve liked me. I’ve always been a little odd, I think.”

“I don’t find you odd.”

Elinor smiled and twirled her brush into her green paint. It would serve as the first layer of color for Seth’s eyes, and although the color looked darker than what she should use, Elinor knew that adding lighter hues would produce the desired shade.

“That’s not precisely high praise,” Elinor said.

Seth’s eyes sparkled, and his lips twitched in an amused smirk. “Were you expecting high praise?”

“Considering I’ve been charged with painting your image on this canvas, I did,” Elinor replied. “You don’t want to displease me, or you’ll find yourself immortalized in a most distasteful fashion.”

“Oh, indeed?”

Elinor’s eyes flitted to the scars on his face. She wondered if Seth’s thoughts had drifted to those, if he already thought that he was being immortalized in a distasteful fashion.

“I’ll do something terrible with your hair,” Elinor said. “I’ll make it much too light, and I’ll shade it improperly. You’ll look like an old man.”

“Then my dear mother wouldn’t pay you. I don’t think you’d do that.”

“There are some principles worth refusing money for,” Elinor replied.

“Like standing firm after having suffered a grievous insult?”

“Yes.”

“Or from receiving insufficient praise from a patron?” Seth asked.

“Of course,” Elinor replied, nodding seriously. “You wouldn’t be the first patron whom I’ve denied my services to, and I dare say you wouldn’t be the last.”

“And for what reasons have you denied past clients?” Seth asked. “I’m curious to know.”

Elinor hummed and added a little color to Seth’s eyes. When he spoke to her, a bright expression sometimes came to his face. She liked that. “Most of the time, I refuse clients because they want to pay me too little. Many don’t believe that a woman should be paid as much as a man.”

“Isn’t any money better than none?”

There was no judgment in his voice, only genuine curiosity. Elinor smiled fondly. Seth had never needed to worry about how his money was earned, only that he had enough to keep Worthwood functioning.

“Sometimes, it is,” Elinor said. “If I’m in desperate need, it is. But sometimes, it’s better to wait. My time has value, too. If I take a commission which does not promise to compensate me properly, it may result in me not receiving a commission which will.”

“Spoken like a shrewd businesswoman.”

“I learned from the best,” Elinor said, smiling fondly. “My father taught me that my work has value, and I love him for that.”

Seth nodded. “There is something very wondrous about what you do. Your ability to create. I think I might envy that some. I’ve always been a little jealous of people who have artistic talent.”

“It isn’t just talent. It requires a great deal of work to be an artist.”

“You’re right. Forgive me, if I suggested otherwise.”

“And being the Duke of Worthwood, I wouldn’t imagine you’d have a significant amount of time to devote to learning to be an artist,” Elinor continued.

“I suppose not,” Seth replied. “It’s a pity that people don’t appreciate that in you.”

“I don’t image people always appreciate what a Duke does, either.”

Seth raised an eyebrow.

“Careful, Your Grace,” Elinor said. “You don’t want to change your expression too much. It will make it more difficult for me.”

“Simply by raising my eyebrow?”

“That simple movement changes your entire face.”

Seth looked as though he might laugh. “Don’t try to distract me. I was going to ask about this disliking Dukes comment.”

“Oh?”

“Do you count yourself among the number who do not appreciate the work that a Duke does?”

Elinor tapped the handle her brush against her chin. “I don’t think that I’ve ever thought too much about the work a Duke does. Much of it is surely beyond what I know.”

“I wouldn’t be so certain.”

Elinor shook her head. “You’ve too much faith in me. I wouldn’t have the faintest idea where to begin with managing an estate, much less the matter of finances and all those events you’re made to attend. And then, I know that some of you speak at parliament. It all sounds like too much for any one person to possibly accomplish.”

“It is difficult sometimes,” Seth agreed, “but I do the best I can and try to learn from my errors.”

“As you should.”

Elinor finished his left eye and went to the right. She glanced at his scars, observing how they framed his eye like tree branches curling around an apple blossom. Her strokes began short and tentative, as she gently added the spring-green to her canvas.

“Is it difficult for you coming here each day?” Seth asked. “It is cold, after all. And I know the snow has been very heavy the past few days.”

“That’s not why I was late,” Elinor replied.

“I didn’t mean you to take my comment as such. I only meant that the journey must be hard for you these days.”

“Well, I’m fortunate that you always send a driver for me,” Elinor said.

“Yes,” Seth said. “I was only thinking that it might be beneficial to us both if you just stayed here, while you work on the portrait. There’s no need for you to keep traveling back and forth. You already spend so much time here anyway. If your father wishes it, he could stay here, too.”

Elinor’s face warmed. “That’s very kind of you.”

Seth looked startled, as if it simply hadn’t occurred to him that he was offering to do her a great kindness. “I would call it common courtesy,” he said, as if that explained his reaction.

“I’ve found that courtesy is not quite so common as we might wish to believe, Your Grace.”

She wished that she could’ve called him Seth, but she knew that was impossible. Even though Letty seemed nice, Elinor wasn’t sure if she trusted the maid enough to reveal just how close she was to the Duke, how friendly they were to one another.

“I suppose you’ve a point there,” Seth agreed, “but I find people who are discourteous and honest far preferable to those who are courteous and dishonest. Don’t you agree?”

Elinor considered the question for a long moment. “I think so, but I imagine you’d have more experience with courtesy than I do. Courtesy isn’t nearly as essential in my life as it is in yours.”

“That’s likely true.”

Elinor bit her lip. Her gaze darted between Seth’s eyes and her portrait. She wanted to ensure that she’d gotten every detail just right. Elinor wiped her hands on her apron and set her brush aside. Then, she stepped around the easel and approached Seth. He tilted his chin up. “No, don’t move,” she said softly.

He remained still, as Elinor leaned over him. She narrowed her eyes and watched his face. There were little flecks of gold in the pale green, as if his eyes were a precious gemstone—some green vision of lapis or a piece of finely polished agate.

“What are you looking for?” Seth asked, his voice low and raw.

“Just your eyes,” Elinor murmured. “Seth.”

That brightness, which she adored so much, came to his expression. The green of his gaze seemed to glitter and twinkle back at her, like the stars on a moonless night.

His breath gave a strange, rumbling hitch. “Do you like what you see?”

Elinor smiled. “You’re being bold today. You do have lovely eyes. They remind me of springtime.”

She saw a strange warmth in his expression, but she couldn’t have said the cause of it. There was something more than fondness in it, something more than friendship, too. But she couldn’t have said what it was. Seth’s eyes seemed to lower, taking her in very carefully. “I’ve often thought that your eyes were like the sea,” Seth said, with the conviction which one might’ve offered a confession to a priest.

“Thank you,” Elinor replied.

She felt an urge to stay near him, to keep this moment between them forever, but distantly, she knew that she must not. Elinor didn’t understand the strange impulses which arose inside her, but she knew that if she remained too close to Seth and for too long, Letty would become suspicious.

Reluctantly, Elinor returned to her easel and eyed the colors before her, imagining how she might spread them over her canvas.

“What do you think about my offer?” Seth asked. “Would you like to live on the estate, while you complete your work? It would make it easier for you to tend to your father is he came, also.”

Elinor felt warmth spread across her face. “I think I’d like that very much, if you’re certain that it’s no hardship for you or your household.”

“Of course it wouldn’t be,” Seth said immediately. “We could provide you with a maid, too. You’d have someone to help you prepare your pigments and to clean your brushes, so you aren’t forced to keep doing everything on your own.”

“Thank you,” Elinor replied, her voice cool and composed.

Inside, she felt as though butterflies fluttered around inside her chest. She’d never imagined living on this beautiful estate. It sounded like a fairy tale, like something which was too good to possibly be true. She knew that she ought to be thinking about her father or about how this would allow her to work more efficiently, but all she could think about was how brightly Seth’s eyes shined and how gentle his smile was.