The Portrait of a Scarred Duke by Patricia Haverton

Chapter 21

“Well, if it isn’t the greatest artist in the Dukedom of Worthwood! What an honor.”

Elinor smiled to herself and stifled a laugh. “You’re thinking of my father, Uncle Henry.”

She turned around to face her uncle, who lingered in the doorway of the studio. Seth would arrive at any moment, and the studio was ready for him. Letty had taken her usual position, although this time she’d taken a handful of brushes with her. She meticulously cleaned the bristles with a cloth, her sharp eyes determined to find every lingering speck of paint, no matter how small.

“No,” Henry said. “I’m quite sure that I’m thinking of you.”

“You’ve never seen me paint,” Elinor countered, “and the only painting in this room is incomplete. Surely, you can’t call me the best painter in the dukedom without any proof.”

“Your reputation proceeds you.”

Her uncle crossed the room and tilted his head, gazing at the portrait of Seth. “You have a good eye for color,” he noted, “and the composition is well-crafted.”

“I used my father’s original composition,” Elinor replied. “He deserves the credit for that.”

“The eyes are done well.”

Elinor smiled, pleased. “I will confess to having done the most work on those. It’s easy when I have such an appealing model. I mean, Se—His Grace has lovely eyes.”

Elinor turned away, feigning as though she’d just forgotten something and idly touching the jars of paint. In truth, she was hiding her blush. She wasn’t supposed to call him Seth around other people, and she’d very nearly done it in front of her own uncle.

“I can’t say that I’ve noticed His Grace’s eyes,” Henry said slowly.

“Well, it’s something you have to notice when you’re painting a portrait,” Elinor said. “That tends to involve looking at the subject quite frequently.”

“Yes.” Henry’s eyes shifted towards Letty. “Your chaperone?”

“And my maid, now,” Elinor replied, grinning.

“Not that you seem to require much,” Letty said.

Elinor shook her head. “I’ve never had a maid, so you’ll have to forgive me. There’s never been anyone but Father and me.”

“Until now,” Henry said. “It’s interesting that you’re here.”

Elinor frowned and blinked, surprised, at her uncle. “Is it?”

“Your father often painted portraits of the Duke of Worthwood, and he was never invited to stay on the estate,” Henry explained. “You must’ve made quite an impression.”

“It isn’t that. Father worked for a different Duke, remember? His Grace is…very kind. That’s the reason. He thought that if Father and I lived here while I’m painting, it would be easier. I wouldn’t have to travel from our village to the estate every other day.”

“Of course,” Henry said.

There was a strange note in her uncle’s voice. It was as if he was considering the solution to a very complicated problem, but Elinor hadn’t the faintest idea why that might be.

“Did you come here looking for the Duke?” she asked. “He should be along at any moment.”

Henry shook his head. “No, no. I left some papers for His Grace, and since I happened to be here, I thought I should visit my dear niece. To see that you’re settling in nicely.”

“I am,” Elinor said, “although that’s really because of His Grace for being so thoughtful.”

“Yes. I’m sure.” Henry paused. “Has he spoken of me?”

Elinor frowned. Her brow furrowed. “I don’t think so,” she said, “but His Grace and I really don’t speak that often.”

Letty made a high-pitched, strangled sound. It might’ve been an attempt at stifling laughter, but the noise clearly rang throughout the room. Henry turned his head sharply towards the maid. “It seems that she disagrees, Elinor.”

“Sometimes, His Grace and I talk while I’m painting,” Elinor replied, “but it’s never about anything complicated. The Duke dislikes silences, so I do my best to fill them.”

“And what do you talk about?”

Elinor smiled awkwardly. She didn’t want to tell her uncle everything that she and Seth talked about. Even if they were just friends, she knew that a man like Seth had a reputation to uphold, and there were surely some who would frown upon him being anything more than cold and polite to a female artist. And although she loved her uncle, Elinor wasn’t especially close to him. She wasn’t certain how he might react to the knowledge that she and Seth had very meaningful conversations sometimes.

He’ll probably be like Father and tell me that I’m behaving inappropriately.

Elinor shrugged. “Oh, the usual thing one discusses with a Duke, I suppose. I tell him how to adjust his pose, and sometimes, I compliment him.”

“Compliment him?”

“So he smiles,” Elinor replied. “There is a certain look which comes to his eyes when he is pleased, and I try to draw that expression out of him sometimes.”

“And what sort of compliments do you offer him?”

Elinor let out a small, nervous laugh. When she looked at her uncle, his expression was warm and reassuring. A little of Elinor’s anxiety melted away from her. “The usual. Surely, you know what compliments an artist is supposed to offer a subject? I tell him that his hair is lovely and that he has a nice face. Sometimes, I compare his eyes to plants or springtime.”

“I see.”

Elinor tilted her head and pursed her lips together. “You sound as though you were expecting something else, Uncle Henry.”

Elinor shot a quick glance towards Letty to see if the maid would contradict her, but the young woman gave no indication of doing anything except continuing to clean the bristles of paintbrushes.

“It was a foolish thought,” Henry replied. “I had thought that His Grace might’ve said something to you. A few days ago, we were discussing the state of Worthwood, and we had a minor disagreement. I had hoped that His Grace wouldn’t be cruel to you because of it.”

Elinor shook her head. “He would never. His Grace has only ever been a gentleman to me. What was your disagreement about?”

“Oh, it was a trifle,” Henry said, waving a dismissive hand, “but it’s something that I’ve thought a great deal about since. I fear that His Grace may not find the same value in my service that his father did.”

“But why?”

“Who can say?” Henry asked. “I’m sure it’s only that the Duke is having a difficult time now that he’s returned home.”

Elinor bit her lip. From talking to Seth, she knew that was true. He longed still for the adventures he’d had while at sea, and he feared that his scars might make him repulsive to the ladies of the ton. It made sense that he might have developed a dislike to his father’s old steward, who surely represented the source of so much anxiety for Seth.

“I’m sure that you’ll persuade him to have faith in you,” Elinor replied. “You’ve been a steward for a very long time, and I don’t think His Grace is the sort of lord who would forget all of that.”

“We’ll see,” Henry said. “I fear that you’ve too much faith in me.”

Elinor bit her lip again. She could try persuading Seth. Admittedly, she didn’t know if she could be as persuasive as her uncle, but she was sure that Seth would listen to her if she did speak. He wasn’t an unreasonable man, either.

“Nonsense,” Elinor said. “Know your value, Uncle.”

“I do,” he replied, his smile tired. “It remains to see if others do, however.”

Seth appeared in the doorway, and Elinor’s heart beat a little faster. She curtsied and smiled. “Good afternoon, Your Grace.”

He glanced briefly at her. Then, his green eyes settled on her uncle. “Good afternoon, Elinor. Henry, I didn’t know to expect you today?”

“I wasn’t expected, Your Grace. I thought I’d leave some of the records your requested. And since I was already here, I thought I’d visit Elinor. I see that she’s settling in nicely.”

“Yes, and I’ve an engagement with her,” Seth replied.

“Of course,” Henry said. “She’d told me that. Have a good day, Your Grace. And Elinor, I’ll see you later.”

“Yes. Thank you for visiting me, Uncle,” Elinor said.

Henry nodded, acknowledging her thanks. Then, he left. It seemed to Elinor that her uncle had made his retreat too quickly. Maybe he’d hoped that his path wouldn’t cross with Seth’s since they seemed to have had some disagreement.

Elinor gave Seth a questioning glance, hoping for an explanation, but he didn’t seem to notice. He’d fixed his attention upon the door and seemed to have resolved not to move it elsewhere.

“Has there been some terrible disagreement between you and my uncle?”

“Did he say something like that?”

“No,” Elinor replied.

Seth tore his gaze away from the door, seemingly reluctant. “It’s nothing that you need to worry about. Shall we begin?”

Elinor nodded. Seth took his usual place and offered her a rakish smile, as if to express his eagerness to begin. Elinor knew when someone was attempting to distract her. And with Seth, it was easier than with most people. She’d studied his face so often and knew it so well.

“So there was a fight, and you were worried my uncle would tell me of it? Did you duel? Behave unchivalrously, perhaps?”

Obviously, her uncle and Seth hadn’t dueled, but Elinor was trying to convince the Duke to speak about the situation. She was joking in an attempt to coax an honest answer from him.

“Yes,” Seth replied, his voice grave. “We dueled, and I beheaded your uncle. I hope you’re not upset with me.”

Elinor laughed at the unexpected answer. “I suppose I’m not angry. He appears to have recovered remarkably well.”

“Indeed.”

Elinor took her brush and began her day’s work, outlining the scars along the right side of Seth’s face. She focused on how the light deepened the furrows of them in some places and lightened them in others.

“And what was this great fight over?” Elinor asked.

“What do you think most men fight over?”

“Women, obviously,” Elinor replied, “but I doubt that was the subject of your quarrel.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because there aren’t any ladies here who both of you would have an investment in,” Elinor said, “and it can’t be that you’ve already thought about who you’re going to wed. You said that you’d do that once the Season arrived.”

“I can think of one woman who…” Seth trailed off. “Never mind. You’re right. We weren’t quarreling about a woman. It was something you don’t need to worry about.”

“I’d still like to know,” Elinor insisted.

Seth leaned forward and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Why do you think you’ve any right to know?”

“I don’t,” Elinor admitted, “but I think you’ll tell me because I want to know.”

Seth nodded slowly. “I see.”

“You’ve moved from your pose.”

Seth leaned back and settled into the familiar position. “I want to do a few things that my father didn’t,” he said. “I have asked to review the dukedom’s financial records from the past few years, and I’ve resolved to personally travel the breadth of Worthwood, so I may survey her conditions myself.”

“Oh,” Elinor said.

“You sound confused.”

“I’m startled. That sounds very—it sounds like something which would take a great deal of time and planning to accomplish. A lot of investment.”

Seth nodded. “It would, and that’s probably part of why your uncle dislikes the idea.”

Elinor hummed. She made a few lines along the side of Seth’s face, and when her gaze darted back to his, she found that he’d fixed his green eyes firmly on her.

“What does ‘hm’ mean?” he asked.

“I don’t dislike the idea,” Elinor said. “It makes sense that, being a new Duke, you’d want to see everything for yourself. Just because your father didn’t do it doesn’t mean you can’t. I’m sure that the late Duke was great at managing Worthwood, but that doesn’t mean everything he did is suited to you.”

“Precisely,” Seth replied. “Your uncle doesn’t see it that way.”

“Surely, you can find some compromise between you?” Elinor asked. “I know you’re both very passionate men, but…”

“A compromise,” Seth repeated. “Is that the solution you’d pursue in this instance?”

Elinor frowned. “What solution were you thinking of?”

“It doesn’t matter. Since I’ve given you the answer you so strongly desired, I think it’s only fair that you give me your assessment of the situation.”

Elinor bit her lip, thinking it over. “My uncle has been in his position for a very long time, and your father had no complaints about his management of Worthwood.”

“None that I know of,” Seth agreed.

“Right. So surely, it’s worth compromising, isn’t it? You don’t want to lose my uncle’s experience and devotion at your first disagreement. Respectfully, it doesn’t matter which man you assign as your steward. Disagreements are inevitable.”

“Not all disagreements can be resolved, Elinor.”

“No, but this seems like one that can be. My uncle is hesitant to abandon tradition because he served your father so faithfully and likely still clings to the memory of the late Duke. And you until recently became accustomed to a life at sea—”

“I’m not going to build a sea in the middle of the dukedom,” Seth interrupted.

Forgetting herself, Elinor shot him a cross look. Seth grinned and bowed his head.

“Apologies. Continue, Elinor.”

“—accustomed to a life at sea, and what you loved most about that was the adventure of it. You enjoyed traveling to unknown places and being free. It makes sense that you’d approach managing the dukedom in a similar manner. Even if you’re hesitant to take on the mantle of the Duke of Worthwood, you still view it as the opportunity for an adventure. It isn’t that you and my uncle have to be at odds with one another. It’s that you’ve two different approaches.”

Elinor paused, aware of Letty behind her. Today, Elinor knew she was speaking too frankly and taking too many liberties with the Duke’s fondness for her. But surely, it was worth it for her uncle’s sake, wasn’t it?

“You may be right,” Seth mused. “I had considered the situation in a similar way, but I hadn’t quite worded it like you have. Let’s suppose that your uncle and I continue to have disagreements. Let’s consider that we simply aren’t suitable to work together. What then?”

“That isn’t a fair question.”

“Sometimes, being a Duke means you can’t always be fair,” Seth replied.

“I’m not a Duke, though.”

Seth sighed. “No, you’re the furthest thing from it. From that whole world.”

He sounded almost sad, as if the thought that Elinor might be a part of something else was some unfathomably tragic fate. Elinor paused, her brush hovering only a small space from the canvas.

Are we friends, Seth?

She couldn’t ask with Letty in the room. Maybe Elinor could lean forward. She could pretend that she was looking at Seth’s face, surveying his features and imprinting them in her mind, and she could whisper the question.

Elinor’s fingers itched. She imagined herself curling her hand around his strong jaw, of feeling Seth’s soft, velvety scars and rough facial hair beneath her fingers. Her breath hitched.

“Elinor?” Seth asked softly.

A warmth rushed through her chest.

Friends.

These weren’t thoughts that anyone had about their friends, and the realization stuck Elinor all at once. It left her breathless. Dimly, she heard her brush drop to the floor. Seth’s brow furrowed in concern.

“Are you all right, Elinor?”

“Yes,” she said, quickly retrieving her brush. “Yes, I had just—this thought occurred to me, and it surprised me.”

“I see.”

Even his voice seemed suddenly beautiful to her. How had she never noticed before how smooth and silky it was? How warm and affectionate? He might consider her a friend, but it was becoming all too apparent to Elinor that she considered himself something entirely different.

This is terrible.

“What was the thought?” Seth asked.

She couldn’t tell him the truth. Elinor swallowed hard. “I was thinking about what I’d do if I was a Duke and making this decision. That was all. I didn’t like the answer I gave myself.”

Seth’s expression softened. “I can’t promise that your uncle and I will be able to work well together, but I promise that I shall try. After all, he does have experience, and you’re right. I should be more sympathetic to the position he’s in.”

Elinor’s heart beat so loudly that she heard its echo in her ears. “Thank you, Seth.”

It was selfish, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about her uncle. At the moment, all she could think of was Seth and how much she loved him. And it was so, so terrible. He was supposed to marry a lady of the ton in the Spring, and she’d done the most foolish thing she possibly could have. She’d fallen in love with a man she could never have.