“Good morning, Eleanor. Is Mellie—”
“Good morning, Trevor. I trust you will be removing yourself from this household today.”
“I slept well, thank you. And you?” He frowned. Wait a moment. “What did you say?”
She set down her teacup and looked at him directly. He could detect no change from her normal placid expression, and yet there was a hardness in her eyes. “I love this house. It is one of the few remaining jewels in my family’s crown. There is actual jewelry, of course, and the estate is lovely. But it is this home in London that I love. Perfectly substantial for a ducal residence, and exquisitely placed in the most exalted area of town.”
Having no response to that, Trevor found a seat and wondered if his friend had gone mad.
“It does have its quirks, though, as all buildings do. You understand, don’t you, Trevor?”
No, he really didn’t. “Quirks,” he echoed. “I’m sure they’re delightful.”
“Not generally. Certainly not the thin walls. They are drafty, you understand, and I can hear the smallest peep of a mouse at all hours of the day. Or night.”
Oh damn. Her bedroom was right beside Mellie’s. Which meant Eleanor had heard him last night. Good God. His face heated, and he was grateful for the distraction as Seelye brought him a cup of tea. Good man, that butler. Remembered his likes. But then a moment later, the man set down a hearty plate of eggs and toast, which was definitely not his favorite way to break his fast.
“Actually, Seelye, I prefer—”
“I ordered this specifically for you, Trevor. I hope you enjoy it.”
Trevor narrowed his eyes. “You know I dislike…” His voice trailed off as Eleanor regarded him calmly. Right. First off, it wasn’t done among his set to argue in front of the servants. Secondly, she knew that he had a distinct dislike of eggs in the morning, especially ones such as this: thin and runny. Which meant this was his punishment for his nighttime roaming.
“You were saying?” she prompted.
“Hm? Oh yes, that I dislike, um, waiting for my food. Such a gracious hostess you are.”
Eleanor dipped her chin in acknowledgment. The translation was clear: you are forgiven for your transgression.
He tucked into his eggs with an inward sigh. A good guest always ate what was set before him. “So has Mellie risen yet?”
“Hours ago. She is busy with Her Grace right now. I doubt you will see her before you depart.”
There it was, the blithe assumption that he would be leaving. But he had no interest in departing just yet, for a myriad of reasons. First and foremost was the desire to be sure things with Mellie proceeded smoothly. This was all very new to her, and he would not abandon her to it. Certainly not to the tender mercies of Eleanor, who could be high-handed at times. And that was the nicest compliment he could think of at the moment.
“Oh, my plans aren’t so cluttered as all that. And the duke has been so kind as to—”
“Is she to be married honorably or not?”
No need to belabor. Obviously, the question was about Mellie. “Married. How could you think—?”
“Then you shall be leaving directly, Trevor. You have put her in my charge. I do not chaperone mistresses or ladies of loose morals. I have the strictest standards, as you well know.”
“Of course—”
“Then you will be departing directly.”
Trevor shut his mouth with a hard clip. It took him a moment to get past his anger, but in the end he had to admit the truth. She was right. She was ten thousand times right, damn her eyes. But that didn’t mean it sat well. “This is a delicate situation, as you know. I am the only one of Mellie’s acquaintances here. You are strangers to her. I’m thinking of her comfort.” It wasn’t a lie. But he was also thinking about other things as well, not the least of which was her desire to be better educated in certain carnal experiences.
“I don’t doubt it in the least,” Eleanor said, her tone of voice indicating anything but. Then she looked up, her gaze on the butler. “Thank you, Seelye. If you would please deliver a message to the mews, we shall be needing the carriage directly.”
The butler bowed deeply. “Right away, my lady.”
Eleanor waited until the servant had withdrawn, then she turned her gaze to Trevor. But she didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to. He was squirming from just the force of her gaze and the weight of his own guilt. He was in the wrong. He had snuck into Mellie’s room last night. He had behaved as no gentleman would. And yet, he was loathe to simply give up his position without a fight.
“She needs me here.”
“She needs a protector, and you need to be whipped.”