My Dangerous Duke (The Twisted Dukes #2)

Chapter 12

“ I thought you said you were going to paint flowers all over these walls?” Cordelia asked, her eyes searching the pristine walls of the Larsen Hall.

The ball was in full swing and highly attended. Eleanor had worked tirelessly to make it a point of pride. If she was going to stay and play a part, she was going to do it well. She turned to her friend, amused to see that she appeared disappointed.

“No,” she replied, feeling a blush tinge her cheeks at the last time she had tried such a thing. “I have decided to put such childish things behind me. Besides, this ball is important to the Harrison name, and as a Harrison now, it is my responsibility to see that it goes well.”

“My, my,” Marina laughed, taking her arm as the three of them joined the mass of finely dressed nobles, “Look who is all mature.”

Eleanor smiled at her friend’s little jab. If she only knew.

“Oh, dear,” Penelope breathed, hiding her mouth with her champagne glass as her eyes darted toward the entrance. “Eleanor, it looks as if your family has arrived.”

Eleanor turned at once to the hall’s main entrance and indeed saw her father, mother, sister, and brother-in-law. It was the first time she had seen Edna since Xander had paid her to leave. Seeing them all now, she realized she could have gone a bit longer without a visit.

“The three of you should go on,” Eleanor encouraged, turning to her friends with a bright smile. “The Dowager is around here somewhere and you all always bring her such joy.”

“Do you want Rhys to come save you in a few minutes?” Penelope asked sincerely. “He is in the cigar room, but I can have him here immediately.”

“I do not know what I would do without you, girls,” Eleanor laughed, giving the three of them a gentle push, “But I shall be fine. Please, go enjoy the party.”

After seeing her friends off, Eleanor turned back toward the crowd and saw that her family was already making their way toward her. She scanned the great room quickly, hoping to spot Xander. But he was nowhere to be found; no doubt closing down some important deal or another. She had not seen him since he had left her in his study and had coordinated the ball with the Dowager and the staff alone.

She wished she had time to run to her rooms and check herself, but there was no time. For the ball, she had chosen to adorn a deep green gown with capped sleeves and black lace trim. Her arms had been adorned with elbow-length white-satin gloves and her circle of brown curls cushioned a small diamond-crested tiara that the Dowager had kindly allowed her to borrow.

“Mama, Papa,” she greeted timidly, curtseying to them respectfully as they approached. “Thank you so much for accepting our invitation.”

She then turned to Edna with a pleading glance.

“Sister,” she greeted as cheerfully as possible. “Good to see you again.”

Edna sniffed, pulled her husband’s arm closer to her, and said nothing.

“You have been lazy,” Her mother decreed, throwing a bored glance around the room.

“I beg your pardon?” Eleanor asked, feeling her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment.

“Nary a soul in this room knows who we are, Eleanor,” Laura Langley stated accusingly. “They do not know your name; they do not even know you. You were supposed to be helping your father further our family’s status, daughter, and you are failing.”

Eleanor looked from her mother’s disappointed face to her father’s, not at all aware of what they were referring to.

“I am afraid I had not realized that was a task required of me,” she said slowly, trying to comprehend.

Her father scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“What else do you think this marriage of yours was for?” He asked condescendingly.

Eleanor felt her father’s coarse words like a slap on the face, and as she was struggling to keep herself composed, she felt a sudden presence at her back. Her hurt changing to curiosity, she watched as all four sets of her family member’s eyes rose slowly above her head. Then as she heard Xander’s voice, and felt his warm breath tickle over the back of her bare neck, she suddenly knew.

“Apologies, Honey,” Xander purred in Eleanor’s ear, his eyes steady on Victor Langley. “I was showing the Duke of Huxton the armory and we got distracted.”

Straightening back up to his full height, Xander placed his hands on Eleanor’s shoulders and smiled frighteningly at his blackmailers. In front of him, Eleanor turned her head to look at him, her brown eyes wide with gratitude and surprise.

“It is all right, dearest,” she managed to say, a smile tugging across her lips. “My parents were just asking about my new responsibilities as a duchess.”

“Yes,” Xander stated quickly, staring Victor down. “She has been quite busy fulfilling her duties to our family.” He furrowed his brow slightly, feigning concern. “I pray it did not interrupt any of your plans. However, a duchess ranks far above any of you, does she not?”

Xander felt a deep satisfaction as he saw Eleanor’s family squirm like the very worms they were, and turned his wife around in his arms.

“I apologize for not being here to assist you for our first ball,” he told her, meeting her eyes. “But you did wonderfully without me. You were right about the redecorating. I have never seen this room look brighter.”

A look of pure relief shone through Eleanor’s eyes at this recognition, and she smiled up at him thankfully.

“Excuse me, son,” Victor mumbled.

“ Your Grace ,” Xander snapped, turning his eyes sharply to Eleanor’s Father. “You shall refer to me as Your Grace.”

Victor flinched at the steeliness of his voice, then shot him a dirty look. Xander looked back coolly, not at all bothered by the man’s discomfort.

“Your Grace,” Victor went on, trying to sound unfazed, “It has been over two weeks and I have still been denied entry at White’s. I am willing to be patient with such a delay but surely you will assist me in gaining entrance.”

Xander’s amusement faded as Victor’s boldness moved from annoying to downright disrespectful.

“I will do no such thing,” Xander, retorted, moving Eleanor behind him so he could meet Victor eye to eye.

“That was our deal,” Victor hissed.

“You really want to bring that up now?” Xander asked, clenching his fists.

“The guests, Xander,” Eleanor whispered from behind him.

After a moment of inner struggle, Xander dragged his glare away from Victor and looked toward the full room. Most everyone was preoccupied with lively talk and leisure, but a few curious faces had already turned their way.

“Enjoy your stay in Larsen,” Xander stated with finality, turning his gaze back to Victor. “Now if you will excuse us, my wife and I need to greet our other guests.”

“We will speak again, Your Grace,” Victor called adamantly after him.

“As you say,” Xander quipped, continuing to lead Eleanor away.

They were soon surrounded by throngs of people, wanting to meet Eleanor and greet him as they passed. He had not lied that they needed to make the rounds. Xander knew his reputation as a dangerous man, and almost everyone was curious to see who was bold enough to marry him.

“You should not have done that,” Eleanor murmured when they were finally able to break away from the crowd.

“It needed to be done,” Xander stated, lifting two glasses of champagne off of a nearby tray and handing one to her. “We need to appear as normal a couple as possible and introduce ourselves.”

“Not that,” Eleanor replied testily, “I mean with my father. I know you do not think much of him, but you should not vex him like that. He is more dangerous than most might think.”

Xander nearly choked on his champagne as he heard this, sputtering some over his chin as he laughed.

“I am afraid of very few things, Honey,” he scoffed, looking down at her. “Your father is not one of them.”

“Be careful, Xander,” she warned, looking at him seriously.

“He has played all of his cards,” Xander said with a shrug. “He has nothing else.”

Eleanor’s beautiful face furrowed into a frown as she once more crossed her arms at him again.

“I truly wish you would take me seriously sometimes,” she said in irritation.

“What makes you think I do not?” Xander quipped, feeling surprisingly in a good mood.

Eleanor opened her mouth to speak, but instead, she let out a sound of frustration and shook her head.

“No,” she stated adamantly.

“No, what?” Xander chuckled, his brow lifting in surprise.

“I am not arguing with you again. Not here. We need to call a truce.”

“I did not know we were at war,” he teased.

When his wife only gave him an annoyed look, he laughed and quickly agreed.

“All right, all right,” he coaxed, offering his hand. “I cannot have my wife seen mad at me at our first ball. Can you imagine the scandal?”

“I thought you did not care about what people think of you.”

When Eleanor did not look impressed, he changed his tactics.

“Dance with me,” he implored sincerely, leaving his hand extended.

She looked him up and dubiously, still unsure.

“You? Dance?”

“Quite well, actually,” Xander admitted. “Another one of Grandmother’s required lessons. Allow me to prove it to you?”

After looking him up and down once more, Eleanor finally took his hand, and with a smile, he led her to the dance floor.