“Mama, I really do not think—”
“Pardon me, ladies.”
Elara’s mortification reached a new level as the Duke’s deep voice filled the room. She spun around to find him standing in the doorway, one broad shoulder leaning against the frame with the unhurried ease of a man who had heard precisely enough. His green eyes moved from Nora to Elara. Though his expression remained perfectly composed, there was an unmistakable gleam of amusement in his gaze that made her want to disappear into the floorboards.
Nora, for her part, looked completely unruffled. She folded her hands in her lap and smiled at him as serenely as if they were discussing the weather.
“Your Grace,” Nora greeted him pleasantly.
“I believe it is time we take our leave. I am quite certain Adrian is downstairs, contemplating whether to still attempt to duel with me or not.”
“Oh, posh,” Nora said, waving her hand in the air as she walked to her new son-in-law. “Ignore him. He is always most sour when things are out of his control.”
To Elara’s surprise, a small smile touched the Duke’s lips as he looked at her mother.
“And you, Your Grace? Are you sour about this situation?” he asked.
Elara looked from her husband to her mother, most curious about her answer.
“I am wary of this union,” Nora replied, her chin held high as she spoke the truth. “My daughter believes you have done something unfortunate to my Evander, and that gives me pause.”
Elara stopped breathing, unable to believe her mother was so blunt about it.
“However,” Nora went on, reaching out to stroke the Duke’s cheek in an intimate gesture. “I still believe you are the good boy both of my sons used to play with.”
A pained look filled Constantine’s eyes for the briefest of moments, then in the blink of an eye, his gaze was void of emotion all over again.
“That was a long time ago,” the Duke pointed out, gently removing Nora’s hand from his cheek. “We are not boys anymore.”
“People change,” Nora agreed. “Except at their most personal center, their core, where their soul is. I believe that is immutable. And at your core, no matter what has been said about you or what bad blood has occurred between you and my sons, I still believe you are good.”
Elara studied the Duke’s face closely as her mother walked out of the room. He looked a bit stunned, his brown brows furrowed into peaks, his green eyes fixed on the spot where his mother had stood.
“She is good at that,” Elara spoke up. “Catching people off their guard.”
He shifted out of his frozen state and blinked several times.
“Indeed,” he murmured, rubbing his cheek where Nora had touched him. He then flicked his gaze to her, and his green eyes hardened a little.
“Come along,” he urged, nodding toward the hallway. “I do not wish to be in here any longer.”
“So soon? The celebration has barely begun!”
“Neither of us wanted this marriage, so there is nothing for us to celebrate.”
Elara felt a lump form in her throat as she took a long look around her mother’s room. Homesickness already swirled in her stomach, and a bout of nervousness tingled up her arms.
“Will I be allowed to visit my family?” she asked, her tone suddenly shaky and sharp.
She turned back to the Duke and saw a hint of pity in his hard gaze.
“I am not a monster,” he said, his deep voice quiet. “I would not prohibit such a thing. However, we are married now. Whether we are joyful about that or not, my presence here is not welcome. We must go now.”
Elara swallowed her lump of tears as the Duke held out his hand. She took it, ignoring the way sparks tingled instantly into her palm at his touch, and let him lead her downstairs so she could say her goodbyes.
Chapter 9
“Your house looks vastly different when it is not decorated for a party,” Elara mused, staring up in wonder at the vast ceiling of the main hall of the London Harcourt Estate. An artist of great talent had painted the domed ceiling with a realistic skyscape, fluffy clouds that looked soft to the touch, magnificent hues of blue and purple in the sky, and adorable cherubs peeking out through the clouds.
