Eleanor And The Duke (Berkshire Brides Book 1) by Margo Maguire Page A

remember ever seeing such hatred in another man’s eyes.
    Not that Maryfield looked particularly friendly. Andrew had never liked the young viscount, finding him to be a conceited little man without principle. Which was obvious, since he counted Weatherby among his friends.
    “Er, we were discussing the quality of horseflesh we’ve seen this morning,” Stanton said haltingly.
    “I’m sure you were,” Andrew said wryly. “What do you think, Weatherby? See anything you’d risk your fortune on?”
    “What is it to you, Beckworth?”
    Andrew shrugged as though he could not care less what Weatherby did. “Naught.” But they both knew Andrew would be suspicious of Weatherby’s presence at any racecourse. Andrew doubted the man’s propensity for bribery had abated, if the report Carrick had brought from London was true.
    He turned back to Stanton. “Otley’s tariff bill is going to be discussed next week in our chamber, is it not?”
    The viscount paled. “Y-yes . . . yes, it is.”
    Andrew gave a wan smile. “I thought so.” There did not seem to be any question that Stanton understood the implication. If the viscount stood with the no votes on the labor bill, he could not expect any support from Andrew when the tariff bill came up for a vote.
    Andrew gave a slight nod to the men and walked away, satisfied that he’d made his point. He hoped to find Lord Otley and a few others who were wavering at Claymere’s garden party.

    Lucy did not give Eleanor a chance to retreat. She took her arm and pulled her toward the house. “Yes, my aunt Arden is here. But it’s too late to escape now. You’re here, and I’m not letting you turn back.”
    Eleanor gulped. She didn’t know anyone who was comfortable with Lady Arden Kildrum. The woman had the exuberant friendliness of Baron Stillwater, but absolutely no sense of tact or decorum. Lucy and Caroline always said it was one of the things her husband, the Earl of Kildrum, loved most about her.
    But he was a Scot, so what would one expect?
    “Let’s go around to the back,” Eleanor said hopefully.
    “Too late,” Lucy said. “My aunt saw you through the window, and Mother is thrilled that you’re here. Now Auntie’s attention can be focused elsewhere.”
    Eleanor groaned inside, but she allowed Lucy to pull her into the house, where Lady Stillwater was waiting at the door. “Welcome, my dear! The girls were hoping you would come to us today,” she said.
    “And here I am.”
    “Come in, come in. We’re all in the drawing room. With Lady Kildrum.”
    Eleanor followed Lady Stillwater into the room past Caroline and Meg, and went directly to Lady Kildrum. She bowed before the countess and took her extended hand.
    “So here is the chit who jilted the duke of Beckworth.” Eleanor felt her cheeks burn at the woman’s wry tone.

 
    CHAPTER FOURTEEN

    “Now, Arden,” Lady Stillwater chided her sister-in-law. “There is no need to put Miss Easton to the blush. That was more than a year ago. ’Tis old news.”
    “Perhaps, but I have not seen the girl since . . . When?” Lady Kildrum’s lips pursed and her brow creased into a rutted gully between her eyes.
    “I do not know, my lady,” Eleanor replied. But she knew it had been quite some time ago. Only a few years after her mother’s death, she thought, when they both happened to be in Berkshire on a visit.
    Lady Kildrum put her quizzing glass up to her eye and studied her. “Your figure is quite fine, and you’ve a bonny face as well. You’ve matured satisfactorily.”
    “Thank you, my lady,” Eleanor replied, making a furtive, panicked glance at her friends in hopes of a reprieve.
    “But you were a fool to send Beckworth packing,” Lady Kildrum said. “I hope you have not become as foolish as your mother.”
    “That’s enough, now,” Lady Stillwater said to Lady Kildrum. “Lucy and Eleanor, come with me. Caroline and Meg, keep your aunt entertained.” Neither Emily nor Jessamine were in