The Portrait of a Scarred Duke by Patricia Haverton

Chapter 23

When Elinor inhaled, she took the burn and scent of the cold with her. She felt the ice soothe her throat and sink into her chest. It was a dreadful day. The sky was gray, and the snow rested in heavy blankets over the estate grounds. But there were times, when she’d been working too hard and her wrist began to ache, that she enjoyed the solitude of winter.

A few steps took her to the garden path, which wound through the sparse flowers. In Spring, the garden was probably one of the most beautiful places she’d ever see.

After all, I’m sure that a Duke is required to have a lovely garden. Where else are the ladies of the estate to wander?

The Dowager Duchess probably spent much of her time in the garden. Elinor smiled as she followed the path, careful not to tread on any of the glistening patches of ice. Seth had probably spent his childhood running through these gardens. Elinor didn’t imagine, given the man that he’d become, that he’d been a well-behaved boy.

She imagined him, raven-haired and with wide, green eyes, running without an ounce of caution and laughing as his poor mother and harried nurse tried to catch him.

I wish I’d known you then.

She wished she’d known him always. Maybe in another life, she could’ve. If her uncle and father had not disliked one another and held that grudge against one another, maybe she could’ve come to visit the estate. She would have never been allowed to play with Seth, of course, but she might’ve seen him. She could’ve watched him from her father’s makeshift studio or her uncle’s house, which she knew rested on the edge of the property.

Seth would’ve probably been an explorer as a young boy. Surely, he’d have been the type of child who would venture to the steward’s house when it suited him, and if she’d been there, maybe he’d have asked after her.

“Elinor.”

A shiver traced her spine. She’d been so deep in her thoughts of Seth that she thought she’d heard his voice calling after her. He wouldn’t be out in the gardens on such a dreadful day, though. There was nothing worth his attention along the empty path and snowbanks, and as far as Elinor was aware, he only ventured into the garden if he was accompanying his mother.

“Elinor!”

She halted. Abruptly, she turned around, and there was Seth. Without his mother, without her lady’s maid, and without even Letty. Elinor’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t have said whether it was more from her surprise at seeing him or at him appearing without a chaperone.

“Seth,” she whispered.

He smiled. Then, he frowned and looked askance. It wasn’t a cruel expression, but an uncertain one. It seemed as though he was as anxious as she was, despite it being he who’d entered after her. “Elinor.”

“Good afternoon,” she said.

He nodded. “You—you were walking?”

Elinor picked at her own sleeve. “Yes. Is that—did you need me for something?”

The wind blew strongly and tossed his black hair. It stood in stark contrast, like a raven against the gray, cloud-bloated sky. The cold made color rise to his cheeks and nose, and he looked quite dashing, really. His scars stood out like the bark of a tree, surrounded by the snow and reaching upwards to the sky.

Elinor’s face grew so hot that she scarcely felt the cold anymore. Seth glanced behind him. “We’re some distance away.”

They were, and given the trees which stood proudly behind Seth, Elinor doubted anyone could see them from the windows.

“We are. It’s very inappropriate,” Elinor said.

Her heart raced. It was so inappropriate, and this wasn’t just a small line they were crossing. Elinor suspected that this was the sort of inappropriate that might ruin an unmarried woman’s reputation, but she couldn’t make herself care much about that.

“Shall I leave?” Seth asked.

Elinor laughed. “I couldn’t make you. Aren’t Dukes allowed to go wherever they wish?”

“Not anywhere.”

“On their own estates, surely,” Elinor said, “which this is. All of this is yours.”

He paused and let out a low breath. They watched his breath emerge in a white puff and rise to the sky, before vanishing entirely.

“Nevertheless, I would leave at your command,” Seth said quietly. “I value your comfort above my own desires. I should hope I’ve made that clear to you. I’d do anything you asked of me.”

“Even if it ruined you?” Elinor asked softly.

She expected for Seth to respond with something sharp and witty, but he didn’t. His face softened, and he seemed to seriously consider the question before him. Elinor scarcely dared to breathe. This moment between them felt so precious, so breakable.

“It depends,” Seth said lowly. “If it was only my ruin, I think I’d agree, but I fear that I would cause other people harm if I were ruined. I must refuse if that is the case.”

“I would never want to hurt you, Seth. I meant it in jest.”

“I like it when you say my name.”

“I’d say it more often if I could, but I try to refrain when there is a chaperone.”

“I know,” Seth said, “which is always.”

“Until now.”

Seth tucked his hands into his coat and nodded sharply. “Yes, until now.”

A finch landed on the branch near his head, and they both paused to watch him, as he chirped and hopped along the barren branches.

“I must confess something,” Seth said at last. “My appearance here isn’t by chance. I went to the studio, searching for you.”

“And I wasn’t there. I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be. Letty told me you’d come out here to collect your thoughts. She says you do that sometimes.”

Elinor nodded. “She’s right.”

Seth took a tentative step forward, his eyes sweeping to her face as if he were judging her reaction. Elinor smiled and stepped forward herself, making the distance between them a little smaller.

“What did you need?” Elinor asked.

Seth cleared his throat. “I wanted to speak with you. Alone, I’ll confess. It was—this is all rather selfish of me, but there’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a very long time.”

Elinor’s heart was in her throat. It couldn’t possibly be that he meant to say he loved her. That would be too wonderful, too beautiful. Still, her heart beat a little more quickly at the thought. Her fingers itched to curl in his black hair and to pull him closer to her.

“Yes?” she asked. “You’ve come all this way. You might as well tell me.”

That voice and those words didn’t sound like hers, but she’d choked them out. Whatever he wanted deserved an answer. It was probably about the portrait, and she was such a ridiculous girl for thinking that this man—this Duke—might feel anything more than a sort of friendship towards her.

“I’m working towards that,” Seth replied. “You are such a beautiful woman, Elinor, that—no, wait. That makes me sound dreadfully lecherous.”

Elinor let out a small, nervous laugh. “It isn’t lecherous to call a woman beautiful.”

“It is when I intend to say that I think I’m…” Seth trailed off and sighed. “I think often of you, Elinor.”

Elinor swallowed and looked at the ground between them. “And I think often of you, Seth. More often than I should, especially since that day.”

“Which day?”

“The day when my uncle arrived.”

“Ah.” He sounded disappointed. “You don’t need to worry about him. I’ve decided to follow your advice and to see if we might be able to come to a compromise. I’m sorry if you’ve been worrying about your uncle and his stewardship this whole time.”

“I haven’t been. There was something else that day which has occupied my attention.”

Seth’s gaze seemed to sharpen. “What is it?”

Elinor’s throat was dry. She couldn’t possibly say. “You would laugh if I told you, or else you’d be appalled,” she said. “It was just something silly. Something I never should’ve thought.”

“Now, I’m very curious.”

“It would upset you.”

Seth’s shoulders slumped. “I would forgive you,” he said gently. “I would forgive you for so much, Elinor.”

“But why?”

Seth licked his lips. He looked as unsteady as she felt, as if he also had a storm of feelings jostling in his mind. As if his chest also ached with the realization that any person could feel so much. Elinor longed to place her hands on his shoulders, to trace her fingers across his strong shoulders and down the same arms, which she’d drawn and painted upon her canvas.

“I’ve never experienced this feeling before, Elinor, so I hope you won’t laugh.”

Elinor bit her lip and nodded.

Seth closed his eyes and took what seemed to be a steadying breath. “I think that I may be falling in love with you, Elinor, and it’s an utterly terrifying feeling. And I realize that I shouldn’t feel that way. I’ve tried not to, but I can’t help it. Every time I try to focus on anything other than you, my thoughts return so quickly. It’s your wit, your determination, your talent, your beauty…”

Elinor gasped. She put a hand to her chest and stared at him with wide eyes. Surely, she was dreaming. Surely, this couldn’t be real. There was a distant ringing in her ears, and Elinor felt as if she’d fallen into a dream. And if she had, it was a dream which she never wanted to end.

“You love me?” she whispered. “Truly?”

“I think I do,” Seth replied, taking a hesitant step forward. “I don’t expect that you’ll return my affections, and I can think of so many reasons for why you shouldn’t. I know I’m the Duke of Worthwood, and I know that you’re an artist who’s been employed by my mother. But I want to assure you that you don’t need to return my affections. If you don’t, I won’t hate you. I won’t act against you.”

Elinor stared at him. She felt as though her knees might fail her and send her collapsing onto the rough path beneath her feet. “I believe you,” she whispered.

Seth smiled hesitantly. He looked as though he feared she might hate him, but inside, Elinor felt as though she was so light that she might rise off the very ground. “You are so kind,” she whispered. “So thoughtful and gentle.”

“I try to be. For you.”

“I know,” she said, her breath wavering. “But you don’t need to worry, Seth. It took me so long to realize it, but I love you. I love you, too.”

His breath gave a strange, anxious hitch, and his brow furrowed. “You don’t have to say it if you don’t mean it,” he said. “I meant it when I said that I wouldn’t think ill of you. Telling you is enough. You knowing is enough.”

He didn’t quite believe her. Elinor’s heart ached with the realization. She could imagine why he wouldn’t. Seth was so strong in so many ways, so determined and passionate, but there was still something very wounded in him. Or maybe not him, but something wounded with a world that couldn’t accept him as he was.

“Oh, Seth,” she whispered. “I meant it. I truly did. I would never lie about something like that.”

Something seemed to flash like lightning across Seth’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to imply that you would lie,” he said quickly. “Only that you might—just—say something kind to spare my feelings or because I’ve caught you unaware.”

Elinor took a step towards him. She was dangerously close, near enough to smell the orange blossoms of his cologne. Her skirts nearly brushed his leg, and although she’d stood closely to him so many times, adjusting his pose and watching him from different angles, this seemed somehow different. More intimate.

His gaze met hers, and her heart skipped a beat at that familiar, beloved shade of green. When she leaned forward, she could see the small flecks of gold in the depths of his eyes. She raised her hand, her fingers itching to touch him.

“We’re alone,” Seth said softly.

“Yes.”

He seemed to deliberate something for a long time. Then, he chuckled and offered her a wry smile. “I never considered myself a rakish sort of man, but standing here, I rather wish I were.”

His words were kind, his tone gentle and teasing.

“I meant it,” Elinor said. “Every word of it down to the very depths of my soul. I love you so much, and I’ve been—it occurred to me all at once. And I’ve no idea what to—how to act. I’ve never loved anyone before.”

Seth let out a small breath of air, which frosted the space between them. Elinor felt the dampness of his breath again her cheek, and her toes curled. All her muscles seemed to tighten, and her blood roared in her ears. “Elinor,” Seth murmured.

He raised his hand and slowly, cautiously, touched her cheek. Elinor curled her hand around his, urging him to keep touching her and not to pull away. “Seth, what do you—what do you think will come of this?”

He smiled, the expression touched with the promise of something delightful and a little wicked. “Maybe we should find out together.”

Elinor pressed herself closer still to him. Seth’s other hand found her waist. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. Elinor’s breath caught in her chest. His lips were soft and warm, and when she took in a shuddering breath of air, her senses were overwhelmed by the smell and presence of him. He was sturdy, strong and warm. And perhaps it was her imagination, but she could’ve sworn that the salty smell of sea-water lingered just at the edge of her awareness.

“I’ll never push you,” he murmured against her lips.

You don’t need to push me, Seth.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself nearer to him. He kissed her deeply. Elinor felt the contact thunder through her, like a storm. The cold of winter seemed very far away, replaced with a persistent, growing warmth that curled inside her chest. She kissed him back, hard and eager.

He withdrew slowly, and Elinor gasped. Her chest heaved, trying to draw in air. Seth remained close to her, the warmth of his body enveloping her, unheeded by the clothing which they both wore.

“I’ve never…” Elinor trailed off.

Seth gazed at her with softness and affection, and Elinor felt the urge to bring her lips to his again and to push herself nearer still to him, even though they already stood flush against one another. Snowflakes tangled in Seth’s hair, and Elinor brushed them away with her hand.

“You’re so beautiful,” Seth whispered, lowering his head.

His lips pressed against her jaw. Then, her neck.

“I don’t know what you might possibly find so attractive about a man like me.”

“So much, Seth.”

His chuckle seemed to rumble against her skin, warm and fond. “I’ll try to be worthy of you.”

He wouldn’t have to try. The idea that he couldn’t be worthy of her was ridiculous. He was Seth, kind and quick-witted and thoughtful. He was the Duke of Worthwood. And in through the pleasant warmth and haziness of having discovered her first love, the only love she could ever imagine herself wanting, there crashed a cold and sobering realization. He was a Duke, and she was just an artist, not even a famous one.

As much as they might love one another, she wasn’t his equal. He was supposed to marry a proper lady, a lady of the ton. Those people—his people—would never accept this, even if they loved one another. And even if they would, could she bring herself to sacrifice the smallest scrap of her independence, even for love?