A Widow Saved by the Loving Duke (Preview)

Chapter One

Sitting upon her desk, the mountain of unpaid debts seemed much larger to Lady Eleanor Ashford than it had the morning before. Had they been made of water, she was certain that she would have drowned weeks ago. And, she did indeed feel as if she were drowning.

Thanks to her parents and her husband – all of them gone – she was near destitution. A fact that weighed heavily upon her no matter how she tried to hide it.

Leaning back in her chair with a deep sigh, she closed her eyes. This newfound freedom and independence borne of becoming a widow ought to have been a comfort.

No longer was she forced to adhere to the whims of the man her parents had encouraged her to marry. No longer was she a possession but a woman in her own right, with her own estate and fortune. Or, at least, she ought to have had the latter. And if not for her late husband, she would be well off right now.

Why Thomas had been so foolish, she would never understand. And though the smallest part of her missed him, missed the small amount of friendship that had grown between them, much of her was angry with him.

She was so angry with him, in fact, that she lunged forward and dashed the ledgers and letters of unpaid debts off the desk, her hands tightening into fists as she did so.

Eyes still closed, she gritted her teeth.

There were ways around this, ways to recoup much of what she had lost. And yet, she was hanging on by the very skin of her teeth.

The clearing of a throat in the study doorway made Eleanor almost jump right out of her skin. Leaning back once more, she pressed her hand to her chest, feeling her heart beat fast beneath her palm. “Agnes, you startled me!”

“Forgive me, My Lady,” the lady’s maid said, dipping into a low curtsey before she entered the room. “The Viscountess Armstrong and Lady Susanne Armstrong have arrived for the young lady’s lesson.”

Eleanor breathed another sigh. Whether relief or frustration, she was unsure. Perhaps it was a little of both.

Though she loved to teach, share her talents with others and encourage their own love of such hobbies, the weight of her debts had begun to take much of the fun out of it in recent days.

“Thank you, Agnes. Could you please see them through to the drawing room and offer refreshments? I shall be there momentarily.”

The plain yet pretty maid dipped her head. “Of course, My Lady.”

Watching her go, Eleanor thought for a moment about how things might have been had she not had the lady’s maid for company. Though she retained a small number of servants for appearance’s sake – the butler, cook, and a few maids – Agnes was the only one she might truly consider a friend.

Having been her lady’s maid since she was just thirteen, the women had practically grown up together. And Eleanor was certain that without her steadfast loyalty now, she might well have already given up.

As the maid half-disappeared from view down the hallway, Eleanor called out, “Agnes!”

The maid reappeared at the door, her head sticking around the doorframe with a curious expression written upon her sun-kissed face.

“Yes, My Lady?”

“Thank you,” Eleanor said with such sincerity that it almost brought tears to her eyes.

A soft, almost sad smile lay upon the maid’s lips, and she dipped her head again. “You are always most welcome, My Lady.”

Eleanor’s chest tightened. The weight of the debts seemed to be growing heavier with every second. If she did not find a definitive way around them soon, she might well have to let Agnes go.

It was one thing to listen to the maid when she insisted she have her wages cut until they had figured things out, but it was quite another to keep the woman around when there was not a penny left to pay her.

Forced to brush the idea away and pull herself into focus for another teaching lesson, Eleanor rose from her chair and checked her appearance in the mirror above the mantlepiece. With so many rumours flying of her woes, the last thing she wanted was to give the viscountess ammunition to start yet more.

Though a friend of a friend, Eleanor had long since learned that most could not be trusted to keep their mouths closed on the little things they saw. Not when the smallest juicy morsel of suspicion or scandal could make one the most popular person amongst the members of the ton.

It was a world she would much have preferred to be apart from, yet she relied upon the mercy of the members of the ton now more than ever. Whether they knew it or not, the hobby she had taken up since her husband’s death was the only thing standing between her and having nothing.

Though she worked hard on her appearance daily to keep the worst of the rumours at bay, her poor situation was beginning to show on her face.

Though she had always been a fairly tall woman at five foot six and quite slender in frame, her face had been rounded and plump in the cheeks. Now, those cheeks were far less plump, and small hollows were beginning to show beneath.

Even her mother, who had always insisted Eleanor must keep a slim and trim figure, would be appalled at the sight of her now.

There was being slim and attractive, and then there was this, whatever Eleanor had become after having insisted that on nights when she dined alone, which was most of the time, she required only a small and simple meal. It was much safer to ration than starve entirely.

Rearranging one looser curl of chestnut hair, Eleanor decided there was nothing else for it but to use one of her mother’s old tricks. Giving her cheeks a good pinch to bring some of the colour back, she forced a smile. It would have to do.

And with that, she turned and made her way from the study down the hall to the drawing room, where she could hear Agnes asking the viscountess if she would like some refreshments.

“Some tea would be lovely,” Lady Armstrong said as Eleanor slunk up to the door.

Hidden in the shadow of the hallway, Eleanor peered into the drawing room.

It looked just as it always had: fine artwork and trinkets, vases of flowers on every table, and sunshine filtering through the grand windows on the far side of the room.

And yet, it was one of the few rooms that still looked so. The guest rooms, save one or two for appearances, had all but been stripped bare. The second parlour was empty, closed up so none could accidentally witness the state of her affairs. Even the gallery on the second floor had been stripped of all paintings that weren’t family portraits; all others sold to try and dig herself out of the hole she found herself in.

And there Lady Armstrong and her daughter sat upon the fine silk couch, none the wiser that now nearly seventy per cent of the manor had been left dark and collecting dust.

The ladies were two a pair, both blonde with gloriously blue eyes, both beautiful and porcelain skinned. The smiles on their faces as they watched Agnes leave the room made Eleanor’s heart ache. She could not remember the last time she had worn a genuine smile.

“My Lady shall arrive momentarily,” Agnes explained from the doorway, offering the ladies a curtsey. “I shall bring your tea.”

“Thank you,” Viscountess Armstrong said, and Eleanor noticed the way she watched the maid leave before she turned to her daughter and asked, “Have you noticed the flowers?”

Eleanor gulped. She had, in fact, noticed the flowers herself, wilting in the vases where they had sat for nearly two weeks. She had hoped they might last one more day before she was forced to replace them, but it seemed they had not gone unnoticed.

“They are simply flowers, Mama,” Susanne said, scoffing. “Lady Ashford likely has other things on her mind of late than ordering fresh flowers every week.”

Eleanor rubbed the sleeve of her dark grey gown. Still in half-mourning after the death of her husband, she was at least relieved to still have that excuse. Perhaps it was best to play the forgetful, mournful widow than the destitute lady.

After all, no matter what had brought her and Thomas together, they had been quite close in the end. And that only made his betrayal and the state he had left her in all the more unbearable.

“And what might you say about the candles in the hallway?” Viscountess Armstrong asked. “Did the servants forget to light them, do you suppose?”

“Mama, Lady Ashford is doing the best that she can given her circumstances,” Susanne insisted, and Eleanor’s heart swelled. At only thirteen, the young girl was far more kind-hearted than any young lady she had ever met.

If only we had children before … Eleanor was stunned by the thought. Though it had been expected that she and Thomas would one day have children in the natural way of things, it hadn’t been entirely high on her priority list.

Yet, seeing mother and daughter sitting there now and so alike, she couldn’t help imagining what things might have been like had Thomas not passed.

Worse was the thought that perhaps if they did have children, she wouldn’t feel quite so lonely. Even more horrendous was the imagined guilt of forcing said children to live beside her in poverty. Was it selfish to imagine such things?

“My Lady?” again, Agnes caused Eleanor to almost jump right out of her skin. “Are you well?”

“Oh, yes!” Eleanor exclaimed, trying to hide her fright better this time.

“Are you sure, My Lady? You have gone awfully pale,” Agnes insisted, standing beside Eleanor with a tray of tea and biscuits, ready to enter the drawing room.

“I was just focusing myself ready for today’s lesson,” Eleanor insisted, and before her maid could question her further, she placed the kind of smile upon her face that would make an awarding-winning actress jealous, sweeping into the drawing room to greet her guests.

“Viscountess Armstrong, Lady Susanne, it is wonderful to see you again. I cannot believe how fast this week has flown by,” she said, sweeping her arms wide in greeting to offer a gracious curtsey.

“Indeed, it has. There have been many events this past week, though I confess, Lady Ashford, I have failed to find you there,” Viscountess Armstrong said, clasping her hands together in her lap as Agnes attended with the tea, silently placing the tray upon the table and beginning to pour.

“I am afraid balls and dinners have not felt quite the same for me since Thomas’ passing,” Eleanor stated, forcing the smile to remain on her face.

“But surely you must be considering returning to society sometime soon,” Viscountess Armstrong insisted, and Eleanor noticed how Susanne had given her mother a gentle nudge in the ribs.

Eleanor’s stomach twisted. She wished she had ever dared do such a thing with her own mother. Maybe then she might have married someone she truly longed for, and maybe she would not be a widow right now. Yet, she had never dared speak against either of her parents, even if it was only a warning nudge that perhaps they were being a little insensitive.

Clearing her throat, Eleanor nodded and said, “In due time, My Lady.”

Before she could be questioned further, hoping to avoid an even more awkward conversation, Eleanor turned to Susanne and asked, “Are you ready for your lesson, My Lady?”

At that, Susanne practically bounced to her feet, smoothing out the skirts of her floral day dress, a look of excitement and relief upon her face. “I am most ready, My Lady.”

“Then please, follow me,” Eleanor insisted, sweeping her hand towards the door before she turned back to the mother and added, “I shall leave you in Agnes’ capable hands.”

The viscountess dipped her head, offering a shrewd smile. Then, just as Eleanor turned, hoping it was all over, Viscountess Armstrong called after them, “We have only time for a quick lesson today. We are expected for luncheon elsewhere.”

Eleanor gritted her teeth. Of course, they were. Everybody had such busy lives amongst the ton, especially during the Season, yet she was stuck upon the sidelines. Were she to attend any of the hundreds of events she had been invited to, her predicament would become all too apparent in her used dresses and worn shoes. She had only a couple of decent outfits left, and the rarer she wore them, the better.

Her day dresses were barely hanging on, and as she led Susanne through to the room where the pianoforte was situated, she quickly tucked a loose thread out of sight with her finger.

“Please, forgive my mother,” Susanne said as she swept into the room and Eleanor closed the door swiftly behind them. “She is anxious for the luncheon she mentioned.”

Eleanor, curious, raised a brow. “Luncheon is not ordinarily something to be over-anxious about.”

Susanne rolled her eyes at that, fiddling with her thumbs and fingers as if she, too, were nervous.

“There is supposed to be some duke or other there,” Susanne explained. “We’re all to make a good impression.”

Eleanor sighed. She knew all too well the kind of pressure put upon young girls to impress their male counterparts.

“Surely your elder sister shall carry much of the burden?” Eleanor suggested, feeling sorry for Susanne’s three elder sisters who were all out in society and looking for husbands. Only Susanne was too young for such things, though there were some who might suggest otherwise.

“Mama says if even one of us sets foot out of line, then we might ruin any chance she has,” Susanne explained, and the way she paled made Eleanor even more fiercely sorry for her.

Stepping forward, she placed her hands upon the young girl’s shoulders. “Any duke would be lucky to share in the company of such a talented young lady as yourself.”

At that, Susanne looked up in surprise. Blinking hard, she asked, “Truly?”

“Yes,” Eleanor insisted, “now, shall we get on with this lesson before your mother scolds us both?”

At that, the two of them smiled, and Eleanor felt some of the weight lifting from her shoulders. It was next to impossible to remain miserable beside one of her students.

Sitting down together on the bench, Eleanor opened up the pianoforte and stretched her fingers. When Susanne copied the gesture, Eleanor smiled and said, “There’s one thing you ought to know.” Leaning in, she whispered into Susanne’s ear, “Dukes aren’t nearly as wonderful as they are considered to be.”

Chapter Two

“Good morning, Your Grace.”

The way that Lord Gabriel Lennox’s niece curtseyed upon his arriving in the drawing room of her Chester Square home made the duke cringe.

“Please, Alice, you need not be so formal,” Gabriel protested, shaking his dark head of hair.

Alice perked up from her curtsey, smiling. “Mama would have a fit if I were to do otherwise,” she pointed out, and Gabriel smiled fondly.

“You know, there was a time when your mother was quite rebellious. She might have ignored my presence entirely just to bemuse our own mother,” Gabriel said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Gabe, are you attempting to coerce your niece into rebellion?”

Louisa’s voice coming from the doorway did not make Gabriel jump for he had already sensed her there and could not resist the opportunity presented before him.

It seemed that Alice, on the other hand, had not, and upon hearing her mother’s voice, she dipped her head. Her cheeks grew flushed as she dipped another curtsey.

“You are being far too hard on the girl, Louisa,” Gabriel insisted. “She should feel comfortable doing what she pleases in her own home.”

Louisa swept into the room in a fine emerald day dress, her hair perfectly positioned in an updo upon her head, wearing the pearls their mother had so often worn in her youth.

“When she is in private, yes, but not when we have a duke staying beneath our roof,” Louisa insisted, offering her daughter a warning look. With that, she gestured to both Gabriel and her daughter to sit. “Come, I have asked for tea to be brought to us.”

“Louisa, there truly is no need to be so formal. I may be a duke, but I am still your brother.”

Gabriel cringed all over again. It seemed the lessons their mother had taught had most definitely rubbed off on his sister. Where the rebellious, sunshine girl had gone to, he did not know, but at least she was looking well in her husband’s absence.

“I shall not have it said that while Lord Carrington is away, his wife and daughter were anything less than proper,” Louisa insisted, inviting in the maid who had arrived with a tea tray.

“I am certain that Edward would wish you both to feel comfortable in your own home, too,” Gabriel protested, and Louisa rolled her eyes. Then, he saw some of her old fire in the way she glared at him with the same fierce green eyes their mother possessed as she declared, “This is my home, and I am most comfortable as I am, thank you. Besides, it is good practice for Alice to remember her place. Even if you are her uncle.”

Still, the young girl sat blushing beside her mother, chin almost to her chest as if she would have preferred to melt right into the couch and disappear.

“Thank you,” Gabriel said to the maid as he was handed a cup of tea along with a finely decorated saucer and a spoon.

The second and third were then handed to Louisa and Alice before the lady of the house said, “That will be all for now. Thank you, Ivy.”

“My Lady,” the maid said, dipping a curtsey before retiring from the room.

Not a second after she was gone, Louisa encouraged, “Drink up, Alice. Your tutor shall be here soon.”

At that, Gabriel’s niece looked up with a most sour expression.

“Must I truly continue with these lessons, Mama?” Alice asked, the sour look deepening when her mother offered a stern expression. “Mr Gregory’s pianoforte skills are … mediocre at best.”

“Alice!” Louisa exclaimed while Gabriel tried his best to hide his smile behind his teacup.

It seemed their mother had been right in the fact that a woman was cursed to raise one such as herself. He could see a great deal of his sister in his niece.

“Mr Gregory is a fine teacher. It is the student that is lacking,” Louisa insisted and Gabriel flinched. She was sounding more and more like the dowager duchess with every moment.

“Louisa, I am certain that isn’t true,” he interjected, placing his cup and saucer on the table before him. “Alice is exceptional at anything she sets her mind to.”

“Then perhaps she ought to set her mind to her lessons,” Louisa said, offering her brother a warning look that suggested he ought not to get involved.

“Susanne Armstrong has been having lessons with Lady Ashford, and her skills have improved threefold since she began,” Alice protested, and Gabriel’s heart skipped a beat.

Furrowing his brow, he asked, “Did you say Lady Ashford?”

At that, both of the ladies before him turned to look at him before offering each other a knowing glance.

“Why, yes, she did,” Louisa stated, her smirk so wide that it could not be hidden even by her teacup.

A tingle ran down the length of Gabriel’s back. Somehow, the cat-like smiles on both of their faces caused him to feel as if he had wandered right into a trap.

I should have known better, he thought, gritting his teeth. Alice had never mentioned a single word against Mr Gregory in the past.

“I should love to visit her for lessons, but Mama insists it wouldn’t be appropriate,” Alice explained, taking a sip of tea before she added, “she says that our families have not been acquainted in so long it would be rude to enquire.”

At that, Gabriel scowled at his sister. “Whatever makes you believe Eleanor would be anything but welcoming?” he demanded. And the second the words left his lips, he regretted them.

“Just as I thought,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You still hold a candle for her.”

Gabriel’s mouth dropped open. “I beg your pardon?”

Yet, his sister’s words caused his heart to skip another beat.

Just closing his eyes, he was able to see Lady Ashford as she had once been: young and slender, almond-shaped hazel eyes that pierced into his very soul, chestnut hair that made his fingers itch to touch, a smile so angelic it made his heart ache whenever she offered one.

When he opened his eyes again, Alice was staring at him, her own green eyes wide with shock. “You and Lady Ashford? But what about her husband?”

The surprise turned to horror on his niece’s face, and Gabriel quickly shook his head.

“Lady Ashford and I were friends long before Lord Ashford came along,” he explained, his jaw clenching at the memory. “I have not set eyes upon her since she was married.”

“And for good reason,” Louisa said, her tone so stern it made every muscle in Gabriel’s body tense. “I fear your uncle might well have made a mess of things were he given half the chance.”

“Uncle Gabe?” Alice said enquiringly, fluttering her long lashes, and when he turned to look at her, she asked, “Were you quite in love with her?”

Gabriel’s chest tightened. He coughed on the sudden lump in his throat and quickly reached for his teacup once more.

His drinking gave his sister all too much time to answer for him. “Your uncle used to follow Lady Ashford around like a little lost sheep.”

At that, Alice’s eyes lit up. “Oh, please, tell me more!”

His niece leaned forward in her seat, perched on the edge of the couch now as if she hoped she might get to the story sooner.

“Louisa,” Gabriel growled through gritted teeth, but it was clear from the look on his sister’s face that she was already quite decided.

“When we were young, we spent much of our time at Whaddon Hall in the countryside. And Eleanor’s parents spent their time on the estate next to ours. It made it quite easy for Gabriel to spend every waking hour fawning over the beautiful Lady Ashford.”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye as if she were encouraging him to say otherwise.

Gabriel pursed his lips. He would not give his sister the satisfaction she was looking for. It was not the first time he had been the target of her teasing, especially when it came to Eleanor.

“Do you remember the time you rescued Lady Eleanor from the duck pond, brother?”

A tingling sensation swept throughout Gabriel’s body. He remembered that day all too well. It had, in fact, been the very day he realized how strong his feelings for Lady Eleanor were.

“A duck pond?” Alice gasped. “Whatever happened?”

Louisa looked to Gabriel again, her brow cocked as she asked, “Shall you tell the story, or shall I?”

Gabriel’s stoic silence seemed to be all the answer Louisa needed and she turned back to her daughter to explain, “There was a duck pond upon the border of our two estates shaded by the most beautiful willow tree. It was the perfect place to avoid your grandmother when she was on one of her tirades.”

Alice rolled her eyes as if she, too, knew what it was like to need a place to hide from a tyrant. Gabriel forced back his laughter.

“And Gabriel and I were looking to do just that, only when we arrived at the duck pond, we found Lady Eleanor was there awaiting us. I called out to her, but she must not have realized we were there as she was so intent upon something by the edge of the water that I startled her so badly she fell in.”

Gabriel remembered it as if it were yesterday. Louisa’s words brought the memory rushing back to him in a sunshine-fuelled daydream as he remembered acting upon mere instinct.

Even before Lady Eleanor had hit the water, he had begun to run. Watching her disappear beneath the surface of that green pond water had been one of the most frightening experiences of his life.

“Gabriel!” Louisa had screamed as he had dashed into the water, fully clothed and booted.

Though it could have only been seconds, it had seemed as if hours had passed while he fumbled around in the water, searching for Lady Eleanor.

And when he finally caught her sleeve, he had dragged her back to the shallows, holding her close while she had coughed up pond water and trembled with fright.

It was the moment when she turned her face up to meet his gaze that Gabriel knew what had been in his heart all along.

The spark he had felt as she gave him a grateful kiss on his cheek was so mind-blowing that he couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized it before.

“Something changed in you that day, didn’t it, brother?” Louisa said, and it was only upon blinking away the memory that he realized they were staring at him.

“How romantic!” Alice exclaimed. Yet, the dreamy expression on her face faltered as she asked, “If you were in love with her, Uncle, why did you not marry her?”

That question cut like a knife into Gabriel’s heart. He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, his sister did it for him. “Because life is rarely so simple, and Lady Eleanor’s parents had already decided her fate.”

Alice’s expression grew darker as she declared, “That is ridiculous. Nobody is better than Uncle Gabe.”

Gabriel was quick to respond. “Do not speak ill of the dead, Alice.”

His chest tightened again as he saw how his sister blinked at him. “Then you have heard of Lord Ashford’s passing?”

Gabriel pursed his lips again. He nodded curtly. “It was sad news indeed.”

“This is perfect!” Alice said so excitedly that it took both Gabriel and his sister by surprise. “This is your chance, Uncle Gabe, and mine!”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, you need an excuse to see Lady Eleanor again, and I desperately need a new musical tutor,” Alice said. Gabriel blinked, unable to believe what he was hearing.

“I do not believe that would—”

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence before his sister said, “I do believe that is an excellent idea. Perhaps it might lead you to find out why you could never find yourself a wife.”

Gabriel bared his teeth at his sister only half-playfully. “I never found a wife because I never felt the need to look for one.”

Louisa scowled at that, and Gabriel prepared himself for her next words. “Perhaps that is because the only wife you wished to take was already taken.”

Gabriel shook his head. “Lady Eleanor and I have only ever been friends. I would not covet another man’s wife.”

“Then there shall be no problem in your taking your niece to see her,” Louisa declared, the smile on her face broadening at an alarming rate.

Gabriel wanted to protest, but at the look of excitement on Alice’s face, he could not bring himself to do so.

What harm could it do, really? It had been years since last he had laid eyes upon Lady Eleanor. They had both likely grown immeasurably since then. Perhaps he would not even be able to recognize her now. What harm could visiting an old friend truly do?

“Fine,” Gabriel sighed, feeling pinned down by the eyes of both his sister and his niece. “I shall take you on one condition.”

Alice practically bounced in her seat. “Anything!”

“Do not mention the duck pond!” Gabriel said, and all three of them began to laugh.

As their amusement eased, Louisa said, “You never know, brother. You might finally find the closure you needed all those years ago to move on.”

“Yes,” Gabriel agreed hopefully, though he believed the chance would be a fine thing indeed.

“I shall write to Lady Ashford myself to enquire about the lessons,” Louisa said, and Alice’s face lit up. “Let us pray she has room for one more student.”

Gabriel’s gut twisted at that. After all these years, the thought of seeing Eleanor again still set his heart alight.

We are strangers now, he thought, unable to believe that he should even be able to recognize the lady as the girl he had once played with by the duck pond.

He found himself wondering whether her chestnut hair still shone with hues of gold and red when the sunshine hit it just right.

Blinking his eyes, he wondered whether agreeing to escort Alice was such a good idea. Opening this box again after so many years might end in disaster. But just seeing the excitement on his niece’s face, he knew it was too late to take it back now.