Not Just a Wallflower. Carole Mortimer

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am not the one whom you will have to convince of that, Eleanor,’ the duke pointed out almost gleefully, she thought crossly. ‘My grandmother, once her mind is settled upon something, is rarely, if ever, persuaded otherwise.’

      That might well be so—indeed, after this past year spent in that lady’s household, Ellie knew for herself that it was!—but in this case it must be attempted. Only the cream of society was ever invited into the dowager duchess’s home, to attend the Royston Ball or on any other social occasion, and Ellie knew that she was far from being that. Admittedly, her mother and father had been on the fringes of that society, her father because he was the youngest son of a baron. And although her mother had been merely a country squire’s daughter, she had been elevated in society by her first marriage to the son of a baron, and again at the second marriage to the son of a lord, the dowager duchess’s own nephew. Even so, Ellie’s own place in society was precarious at best.

      ‘Indeed, I see no reason why you should wish to do such a thing,’ the duke continued. ‘If my grandmother has decided that you are to be introduced to society, then you may be assured that none in society will dare to argue the point.’

      ‘Even you?’ she couldn’t help asking, then flushed at her own temerity.

      Justin frowned at this second attempt on Eleanor’s part to ascertain his own views on the subject. Especially when he was now unsure of those views himself...

      Admittedly, he had initially dismissed the very idea of her introduction into society, but second, and perhaps third thoughts, had revealed to him that it was not such an unacceptable idea as he had first considered. His grandmother’s argument, in favour of doing so, in an effort to secure Eleanor a suitable husband, although a considerable inconvenience to himself, was perfectly valid. Most especially if Justin were to provide Eleanor with a suitable dowry, as his grandmother suggested he must do.

      Eleanor was both ladylike in her appearance as well as her manner. The fact that she also happened to be impoverished should not prevent her from seeking the same happiness in the marriage mart as any other young lady of nineteen years.

      There was that irritating question as to whom Eleanor’s real father might be, of course, but Justin had his grandmother’s assurances that Eleanor knew nothing of that, believing herself to be the daughter of Mr Henry Rosewood. And if Justin’s investigations into that matter, at his grandmother’s behest, should prove otherwise, then who needed to be any the wiser about it?

      The father, perhaps, if he did not already know of his daughter’s existence...

      Only time, and investigation, would inform Justin as to whether or not the name of Eleanor’s real father was of any relevance to this present situation.

      His grandmother having elicited his next promise—that he would not speak to Eleanor on that particular subject either—Justin now turned to the reason for Edith’s insistence on Eleanor’s début into society. ‘The dowager duchess has decided it is time for you to acquire a husband.’

      Green eyes widened incredulously at his announcement, even as those creamy cheeks became flushed. With embarrassment? Or temper? Or perhaps excitement? He wished he knew.

      Justin did not know her well enough to gauge her present mood, but he was certainly man enough to appreciate the added depth of colour to the green of her eyes, and the flushed warmth in those creamy cheeks, as well as the swift rise and fall of the full swell of her breasts. Indeed, if this young lady had been anyone other than his grandmother’s protégée, then she would have been the perfect choice for the role of his mistress he had been considering earlier—

      Justin called a sudden halt to his wandering thoughts. His grandmother’s request had now placed him in the position of guardian to this particular young lady, and as Eleanor’s guardian Justin would frown most severely upon any gentleman having such licentious thoughts, as his had just been, in regard to his own ward!

      She drew in a deep breath, unwittingly further emphasising the fullness of those creamy breasts. ‘I am sure I am very...gratified by her Grace’s concern—’

      ‘Are you?’

      Ellie gave Justin a quick glance beneath lowered lashes as she heard the mocking amusement in his tone; grateful as she was to the dowager duchess for coming to her rescue a year ago, it had not been an easy task for Ellie to learn to hold her impetuous tongue, or keep her fiery temper in check, as was befitting in the companion of a much older lady and a dowager duchess at that, and they were faults her mother had been at pains to point out to Ellie on a regular basis when she was alive.

      The duke’s amusement, so obviously at her expense, which she once again saw in those intense blue eyes, was enough to make Ellie forget all of her previous caution, as she snapped waspishly, ‘I am gratified to see that at least one of us finds this situation amusing and it is not me!’

      ‘If nothing else, it has at least succeeded in diverting my grandmother’s attention from my own lack of interest in the married state!’ he lobbed back lazily.

      Ellie eyed him in frustration. ‘I am no more interested in entering into marriage, simply because it’s convenient, than you are!’

      Her mother’s marriage, to a youngest son, had resulted in Muriel Rosewood being left a virtually impoverished and expectant widow on Henry Rosewood’s death, with only a small yearly stipend from the Rosewood family coffers, and no other interest in the widow and her daughter from that family, with which to support them.

      Muriel’s second marriage ten years later, to a rake of a man whom she did not love, but who offered her a comfortable home for herself and her young daughter, had not been a happy one. Far from it.

      As a consequence, Ellie had decided that she would never marry for any other reason than that she loved the man who was to be her husband. Far better that she remain an old maid, she had decided, paid companion to the dowager duchess, or someone very like her, than that she should end up as unhappy as her mother before her, unpaid servant and bed partner of a man who did not love her any more than she loved him.

      The duke chuckled huskily. ‘My grandmother is not easily gainsaid.’

      ‘You appear to have done so most successfully all these years,’ Ellie pointed out smartly.

      Justin gave an acknowledging inclination of his golden head at the hit. ‘And with my grandmother’s determined efforts now firmly concentrated upon your own marital prospects, my dear cousin, I fully admit I am hoping to continue that enviable state for several more years to come.’

      She frowned. ‘I do not have any “marital prospects”!’

      ‘But you will have, once I have settled a sizeable dowry upon you.’

      ‘A sizeable dowry!’ Ellie repeated, staring up at him incredulously. ‘And why, pray, would you wish to do that?’

      He lifted a brow. ‘Because it would make my grandmother happy if I did?’

      Ellie continued to look up at him for several long seconds, a stare the duke met with unblinking and bored implacability. Bored?

      So he found the idea of marrying her off, whether she wished it or not, whether she would be happy or not, to be not only amusing but boring as well?

      And to think—to imagine that she had thought only minutes ago that she was in love with Justin St Just! So much so, that she had awaited

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