The Portrait of a Scarred Duke by Patricia Haverton

Chapter 22

The next morning, Seth rose early and went to his study. His mind kept wandering to Elinor and how she’d looked at him in the studio. She claimed that she’d only been thinking about what she would do if she were the Duke of Worthwood, but Seth wasn’t quite sure he believed that. Still, something had distressed her.

Something to do with me.

Either she’d told him the truth and hadn’t liked the answer she’d given herself or she’d thought of something else. Something terrible. Seth wasn’t sure if she would’ve looked more startled if he’d chosen to leap from the studio window.

She would be upset if I replaced her uncle with someone else. I know that, at least.

It wasn’t really new information, though. What niece would be happy to have her uncle removed from such a powerful position in the dukedom? And even if she cared, why should Elinor’s opinion matter? She was neither his Duchess nor anyone in the ton whom he needed to please.

There was a knock on the door. Seth tensed, knowing precisely who it was. “Enter.”

I don’t have proof that her uncle isn’t good at being a steward either. All I have are feelings that I can’t make sense of and this odd, persistent dread that Henry and I will never be able to work with one another.

Henry entered, and Seth forced a tight smile.

Maybe Elinor is right, and we’re both just trying to do the best we can. Maybe I need to be kinder to him.

“Good morning, Your Grace,” Henry said.

“Good morning. Thank you for being willing to meet me at such an early hour.”

It wasn’t really that early in the morning, although the dreary winter skies made it seem like it. Still, if Seth wanted to follow Elinor’s advice and to find a compromise, it wouldn’t hurt to be more courteous than usual.

“It’s nothing, Your Grace. I’m pleased to come whenever it is most convenient for you.”

“Please, be seated.”

Seth felt his smile strain. He could do this. Even if he’d been at sea for the past several years, good manners were in his blood. He knew how to behave with people whom he didn’t necessarily like but needed to cooperate with.

“I’ve been looking over the papers your brought,” Seth said, gesturing towards them.

“Ah, not a moment to waste, Your Grace?”

Did he say that in an insulting way, or am I just interpreting his tone wrong?

Seth decided it was probably the latter reason. His irrational suspicion for Henry made him imagine hostility where there was none.

“I’m hoping you appreciate my eagerness,” Seth said. “I admire how carefully you’ve kept records over the years.”

“I’m glad to be appreciated.”

The room felt too hot and too small, their previous disagreement lingering between them as if it were a physical, present thing. Seth cleared his throat. “I hoped we would revisit our previous conversation. I’ve thought often about it in the past few days, and given how devoted you are to the Dukedom of Worthwood, I’m sure you have, too.”

Henry nodded. “I have, Your Grace.”

“And I think I was a little too hasty in some of my words,” Seth said.

It hurt to admit it, just as it always stung to admit one’s faults. Elinor was right, though. He had to repair the damage between her uncle and himself. Even if the future proved him right, he still ought to try for a compromise before replacing the man who had served his father so faithfully for years.

“I sincerely appreciate your service to the dukedom,” Seth continued, “and I feel as though I didn’t show you that when we last spoke. I believe that the two of us both have the same goal. We both want what’s best for Worthwood, and we just have different ideas how to achieve that. It is my hope that we may be able to find a compromise between the two of us.”

Henry smiled hesitantly. “That sounds like an excellent idea, Your Grace. What did you have in mind?”

“Perhaps you’re right about surveying the dukedom. It isn’t needed. At least, it isn’t needed at the moment. I can trust that you’ve kept Worthwood running smoothly and that you’ve taken good care of our tenants. The financial records make that abundantly clear.”

“So you’ve come to realize that I am an effective steward, Your Grace?”

“I never doubted that you were,” Seth said. “I only thought that we should try some new things, for the betterment of everyone.”

Henry nodded. “I understand your desire to ensure that all is well in Worthwood, but I must caution you, Your Grace. You cannot do everything yourself. If you try that, you’ll drive yourself to madness. There are some responsibilities which you must entrust to other people.”

Seth clenched his jaw. He knew that very well. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt to do this, though? To be sure, beyond any doubt, that Henry was still an effective steward?

Compromise, Seth. Remember what Elinor told you.

If he’d been speaking to Elinor instead of her uncle, Seth suspected this conversation would’ve been much more amicable, although that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

I am too fond of her, and I don’t know how to become less fond of her. I don’t know if I want to, either, and it’s pointless to desire her. She can’t be my Duchess.

“You can trust me with this,” Henry continued. “I’d advise you to instead devote your attention to the coming Season and what it may hold.”

“I shall,” Seth replied, “but just because I am not going to survey the dukedom now doesn’t mean I never will. And I do still want to view all the receipts and the financial records from the past few years.”

“I see.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“It’s difficult to believe that you truly trust me as your steward when you keep insisting on checking all my work from the past several years,” Henry argued.

“When my father inherited this dukedom, we were heavily dependent upon my mother’s dowry,” Seth said, “but over the years, Worthwood became prosperous. Doubtlessly, this is in part because of your efforts.”

Henry smiled, but Seth could tell that the man wasn’t persuaded. As the steward to the Duke of Worthwood, Henry recognized when someone was attempting to win his loyalty with flowery words.

“But you won’t live forever,” Seth continued, softening his voice. “And what if something happens to you? None of us are promised to live even through the night. I would sleep easier if I had some idea of what these financial records hold, so I can see precisely how you’ve managed Worthwood all these years. It’s not a matter of whether or not I trust you.”

It was, indeed, that Seth didn’t trust the man. Seth just didn’t know why he felt an instinctive dislike for the steward. Surely, it wasn’t just because of that disagreement they’d had?

“It’s a matter of what’s best for the dukedom,” Seth continued. “It’s so that I can be assured that all will be well, even if you aren’t able to serve as steward someday. I act out of an abundance of caution.”

Henry heaved a long sigh. “I understand, Your Grace. You speak with such wisdom for a Duke of your young age.”

Seth didn’t think he was quite that young for a Duke. Sure, at seven-and-twenty years, he wasn’t quite old, but he wasn’t young, either. His years at sea had given him rare experience, too, and shown him things that he suspected few of his peers had seen.

“You’ll gather them for me, then?” Seth asked. “I’d like to see everything before the Season begins. I imagine I’ll be too busy to devote much time to them since I’ll likely have a future Duchess to think of, which—as you mentioned—is a good reason to refrain from surveying the condition of Worthwood. For now, that is.”

“I will,” Henry replied, “though it will take some time.”

“I would expect it to. Not too long, of course. I’m sure that you keep your records well.”

“Of course.”

Seth paused, trying to decipher Henry’s tone. He sounded strange. Was that irritation? Or concern?

Maybe it’s just that he fears doing things differently than we have in the past, as Elinor suggested.

“I hope you’re also pleased with your niece’s accommodations here?” Seth asked.

Elinor was the one thing which Seth suspected both he and Henry could find common ground on. They both cared about the lovely, young woman, and maybe if Seth reminded Henry of that, their meetings would proceed much more smoothly in the future.

“I am,” Henry said, a spark of interest coming to his eyes. “She seems quite happy here.”

“That was my hope,” Seth said, “for practical reasons. I felt awful asking her to abandon her father each day and for her traveling in the snow to come paint me. It felt like much to ask her, and I believe having her at Worthwood probably lessens her burdens a little.”

“How very thoughtful.”

Seth smiled. “I try to be. I think Elinor is a very gifted artist, and once she’s completed my portrait, we may be able to introduce her to some ladies among the ton. I know that many are hesitant to commission a female artist, but it would be nice if we could influence some of them to consider Elinor.”

“She’d be very grateful,” Henry said, “but you need not do all that for her, surely? That’s quite generous. More than she’d expect from you, I’m sure.”

“Maybe,” Seth replied, “but I’ve found that generosity doesn’t exist in finite amounts.”

Henry smiled and leaned forward. He glanced around him, as though he suspected there might be some servant listening to them. They were quite alone. “Your generosity might be what saves Elinor, in truth,” Henry said.

“Saves her? I doubt she needs me to save her. She seems like a very strong-willed woman to me. Very independent.”

Seth knew she was, but he was trying to hide just how strongly he thought of her. His pulse jumped at the very thought of her sharp wit and sly smiles. And there was that way she looked at him when she was painting, where her eyes narrowed and became darker. Sometimes, Elinor gazed at him with such discerning intensity that he felt as if he couldn’t breathe.

“Oh, she is,” Henry said, “because she has to be. She has no marriage prospects. I fear my brother has waited too late to impress upon her the importance of marriage.”

“Not everyone is suited for it,” Seth replied. “I know that’s an unconventional belief, but I think Elinor would prefer to live a single life as opposed to being wed to a man who she could not wholly give her heart to.”

“Did she tell you that, Your Grace?”

Seth squared his shoulders and shook his head. “I assume, is what I mean to say. A woman in Elinor’s position has more freedom than those of us in the ton. She’d be wise to remember that, and I’m sure that she will. After all, she has you to advise her.”

Henry’s lips curled inwards. “She does have me, but Elinor can be a little stubborn sometimes.”

“Aren’t we all?”

And Elinor was fortunate. Her stubbornness was the sort that was admirable and endearing. She had good sense, too.

Seth felt a knot twist in his chest. She was so utterly wonderful, and even knowing how she was too blunt and too awkward wasn’t enough to detract from her many charms. He shivered when he thought of how his own name sounded coming from her tongue, the short syllable spoken with a sweetness he’d never heard associated with it before.

“And we don’t know,” Seth added. “Maybe Elinor will find a husband among her clients. Or among other artists. If we could persuade some of the ton to give her commissions, she’d meet far more people than she can in that little village in which she lives.”

He was one of her clients, but Seth knew he couldn’t be her husband. He was a Duke. He had to marry an Earl’s daughter at least. Certainly, he couldn’t wed an artist with his high status.

And she would never fall in love with me. She pays such careful attention to me because my mother is paying her to paint me, and she talks to me because she detests silence.

He couldn’t help but cling to the smallest sliver of hope, though. Seth’s thoughts wanted to wander to the most delightful image of himself and Elinor, together and wed, with a family. And she’d made his mother laugh. She’d proven that she cared about family.

“That is true,” Henry said. “Elinor may be hesitant because she’s unaccustomed to being around the ton, but I’m sure I could persuade her to take the opportunity. I imagine she’d be excited, too.”

Seth smiled in easy agreement, but his chest ached when he thought of Elinor entertaining suitors. It was a selfish thought. He couldn’t take away her opportunity to be taken seriously as an artist just because he desired her.

And yes, desired. It was time for him to stop thinking of it as an infatuation that would pass in due time.

What am I going to do? Why do I even feel this way?

He couldn’t keep claiming that he just needed female attention. If that were all, Seth would’ve stopped feeling this way long ago.

“She’s a rare woman,” Henry said.

Seth nodded. “She is.”

When Seth looked at Henry, the man’s expression seemed smug. For a wild moment, Seth thought that he must’ve guessed somehow about his affections for Elinor, but that was impossible. Irrational, just like Seth’s distrust of his father’s faithful and respected steward.

“Well,” Henry said. “I suppose I shall take my leave, if there’s nothing further to discuss? I will begin gathering those records for you without delay.”

“Yes, please,” Seth replied. “And thank you.”

Henry rose from his chair and bowed. Seth forced another smile and watched the man’s back as he left the room. Only once Seth was alone, did he let out a ragged breath of air. It emerged more like a laugh.

“I love Elinor,” he said.

It felt good to say, but also like the confession had shattered his entire world. He loved Elinor, but he couldn’t love Elinor. That wasn’t allowed. Everyone said so.

“This is terrible,” he muttered, staring at the ceiling.

It was also terrible to be in a loveless marriage, and even if his parents had loved one another in the end, Seth was beginning to wonder how much pain it had taken for them to arrive there. Maybe his father hadn’t been so perfect. Maybe his father was a deeply flawed man, who had married a woman he didn’t love and had hurt her.

Maybe his father had tried to make up for it, or maybe Seth’s poor mother had only convinced herself that everything was fine when it wasn’t. Could one become accustomed to being unloved?

“Maybe it would be better if I married for love,” Seth said.

But there was only one way to know if Elinor loved him back, and that would be to ask her. She’d tell him honestly, Seth didn’t doubt that in the lest. She wouldn’t feel as though she had to marry him or love him simply because he was a Duke, and that was utterly terrifying.