The silence that stretched between them felt charged with unspoken tension. Eleanor returned her attention to her papers, though she couldn’t ignore his presence or the growing intensity.
“Come with me,” he said.
Eleanor’s pen stilled mid-sentence. She looked up slowly, certain she’d misheard. “I beg your pardon?”
“To Ashford. Come with me to assess the estate.” Her presumptuous husband leaned forward, his expression earnest.“You understand finances better than anyone I know. Your eye for practical matters, your ability to negotiate—I could use your expertise.”
The invitation caught Eleanor completely off-guard. She’d expected many things from this conversation, but not an invitation to accompany him on estate business. His estate business. “That’s quite impossible. I have commitments here, responsibilities—”
“Do you trust me to approve substantial expenditures without your oversight?” His tone was mild, but she caught the challenge beneath it. “After all, you’ve made it quite clear that you prefer to maintain control over all financial matters. How can you be certain I won’t bankrupt us both with unnecessary repairs?”
Eleanor felt her jaw tighten at his perfectly calculated logic. The restoration of Westmore Hall would indeed require significant funds—funds that would come from their shared resources.
“The decision must be made quickly,” he continued, pressing his advantage. “Every day we delay means more damage from the weather. Two days out of London—we could leave tomorrow morning, assess the situation, make decisions, and return by Thursday evening.”
Eleanor weighed her options. The practical side of her mind recognized the wisdom of overseeing such a significant expenditure personally. The suspicious side wondered if this was merely another way for the clever duke to get under her skin.
“Very well,” she said finally. “Two days. But I have a condition.”
His eyebrows rose. “Name it.”
“This is strictly business. I’m accompanying you as a financial advisor, nothing more. No attempts at… familiarity during our travels.”
“Harsh,” he said with theatrical sadness. “Very well, I accept your condition. Though I feel compelled to add one of my own.”
Eleanor’s eyes narrowed. “Such as?”
“No sabotaging my belongings during our stay. I refuse to address estate managers while wearing pink shirts or drinking salted tea.”
Despite herself, Eleanor’s lips twitched. “That seems reasonable.”
“Second, you will actually eat meals with me rather than hiding in your room. We’ll need to discuss financial matters, and I won’t have conversations shouted through oak doors.”
“Acceptable, although that was one more than what I agreed to,” she conceded grudgingly.
“And third,” his voice dropped to that lower register that never failed to affect her, “you shall not seduce me and distract me from my task.”
The gentle teasing in his tone caught her off-guard, reminding her of easier moments between them before everything had become so complicated. She felt her carefully maintained defenses waver slightly before she reinforced them with stern resolve.
“Agreed wholeheartedly,” she replied, keeping her facial expression neutral.
“Then I shall endeavor to be on my best behavior,” Damien said with a bow. “Though my best behavior has been known to be quite memorable.”
Eleanor felt heat rise in her cheeks despite her determination to remain unmoved. “We leave at eight tomorrow morning. Don’t be late.”
“I wouldn’t dream of keeping my duchess waiting,” he replied, rising from his chair.
As the duke departed, Eleanor stared at the closed door and wondered what exactly she’d agreed to. Two days alone with theman who’d been systematically destroying her peace of mind seemed like an exercise in foolishness.
But practical necessity demanded her presence, she told herself firmly. This had nothing to do with the treacherous part of her that was curious about her husband’s ancestral home, or the even more treacherous part that wondered what he might be like away from London’s distractions.
Two days. She could manage two days of strictly business interactions with her temporary husband.
Even if the prospect filled her with equal parts dread and unwelcome anticipation.
Damien had spentthe first hour of their journey in silence, watching the London countryside roll past through the carriage window while Eleanor maintained her position on the opposite bench, book held like a shield against unwanted conversation.
Now, as they settled into the rhythm of travel, Damien found his attention drawn inexorably to his traveling companion. The afternoon light streaming through the windows caught the copper highlights in her hair, and her obvious concentration on whatever literary masterpiece occupied her hands only made her more intriguing.