“Think nothing of it,” Damien said easily, crouching to scratch the excited animal behind the ears. “Hello there, fellow. You’re certainly energetic this morning.”
Eleanor watched this gentle interaction with growing fascination. Gone was the sardonic wit and knowing smirks she’d come to associate with her husband. In their place was a tenderness that transformed his entire face, making him appear younger and less troubled.
When had she stopped thinking of him as “her inconvenient husband” or “the unwelcome duke”?The realization landed with surprising force. Somewhere along the way, through their conversations and shared intimacies, he’d simply become Damien—a man whose complexity continued to surprise her.
“Now then,” Damien said, rising and brushing mud from his hands, “let’s discuss what needs immediate attention.”
What followed was a detailed conversation about roof repairs, window replacements, and structural assessments. But what impressed Eleanor most was how Damien consistently sought her opinion, asking for her thoughts on costs and priorities as though her judgment was not only welcome but essential.
“Her Grace oversees the accounts for numerous business ventures,” he explained when the men looked surprised at his deference to her opinions. “Her experience with managing funds and supervising works far exceeds my own.”
Eleanor felt a warm glow at his confidence in her abilities, at the way he presented her as a partner rather than an ornament. When had any man ever sought her counsel so publicly, so respectfully?
After delegating the immediate repairs and establishing timelines, Damien turned to broader concerns. “What does the village need? I know the church roof has been problematic, and didn’t Morrison mention issues with the bridge?”
The men exchanged glances before Garrett spoke carefully. “There are needs, Your Grace, but we know things have been… difficult.”
“The estate’s financial troubles don’t extend to village maintenance,” Damien said firmly although his eyes sought her approval. She gave him a slight nod. His eyes twinkled as he turned back to the men and said, “Tell me what requires attention.”
As the men outlined various repairs and improvements needed throughout the village, Eleanor watched Damien authorize expenditure with growing generosity. His initial request for her approval seemed forgotten as his ducal responsibilities asserted themselves.
“I’ll send funds within the fortnight,” he promised as the meeting concluded. “And I plan to return next month to check on progress.”
The men’s gratitude was obvious and touching. As they prepared to leave, each took the opportunity to ask after Lord Dominic, their genuine concern evident. Eleanor noted how Damien’s expression tightened slightly at each inquiry, though he maintained his composure.
After the men departed, Eleanor and Damien prepared for their own journey back to London. As they waited for their carriage to be brought around, Eleanor found herself studying this man she’d married, trying to reconcile the roguish duke with the caring landlord she’d witnessed.
On the other hand, he’d just committed several thousand pounds without so much as glancing her way for approval. Eleanor pressed her lips together, torn between irritation at his impulsive spending and reluctant admiration for his obvious devotion to his people.
Whatever the case, she had to admit Damien Westmore was proving increasingly difficult to resist.
The carriage rolledaway from Westmore Hall through the steady drizzle, carrying them back toward London and the complications of their lives. Eleanor sat across from Damien, acutely aware of the shift in atmosphere between them. The easy camaraderie they’d shared during the meeting had given way to something more charged, yet increasingly strained.
She found herself stealing glances at him as the countryside passed by the rain-streaked windows, her emotions warring between desire and vexation. The memory of waking after their night spent together on the sofa still sent warmth through her veins, but it was now tempered by the cold reality of his financial recklessness. When he shifted his position or their eyes accidentally met, her body responded with traitorous heat even as her mind catalogued his unreasonable expenditures.
Several thousand pounds committed without consultation. Her funds—legally his now, but morally hers—dispensed with casual generosity without careful calculation of the risks. Eleanor pressed her lips together, fighting the unwelcome attraction that persisted despite her growing resentment.
“The repairs should progress quickly,” Damien said, finally breaking the silence. “Garrett’s always been reliable, and the other craftsmen know their business.”
“You were generous with the village improvements,” Eleanor observed, her tone kept even. “Perhaps overly so.”
Damien’s eyebrows rose at her implied criticism. “The bridge genuinely needs reinforcement, and the church roof won’t survive another winter without attention.”
“I’m not questioning the necessity, merely the… scope of your commitments.” Eleanor chose her words carefully. “Given the estate’s financial situation, such extensive expenditures might be considered imprudent.”
“Are you suggesting I should let my tenants’ homes fall into ruin while I restore my own comfort?” His tone had cooled noticeably.
“I’m suggesting that prudent financial management requires prioritizing essential repairs over charitable gestures.” Eleanor felt more grounded with the familiar business discussion, safer than the emotional uncertainty that had been plaguing her. “A landlord’s first responsibility is ensuring his own solvency.”
“How refreshingly practical,” Damien said, and there was an edge to his voice that made Eleanor glance up sharply. “Tell me, do you apply such cold calculation to all your relationships?”
The question stung more than it should have. “I apply rational thinking to financial decisions, yes. Someone must, given your apparent inclination toward romantic gestures at the expense of economic reality.”
“Romantic gestures?” Damien’s laugh held no humor. “I was ensuring my people have adequate shelter and safe passage across the river. Hardly the stuff of poetry.”
“You committed to expenditures totaling several thousand pounds without consulting your account books or considering the impact on other obligations.” Eleanor’s voice grew more heated despite her efforts to remain composed. “That’s precisely the sort of impulsive generosity that could deplete our fortune.”
Damien’s expression darkened. “Is caring for people considered a character flaw by those who prefer cold calculation to human decency?”