Lady Eleanor Mary Cantwell, daughter of the Marquess of Salford, is a proper young lady. With her golden complexion, raven-black hair, and manners befitting a princess, Lady Eleanor has always been deemed a belle. There is just one problem.
Lady Ele...
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Eleanor woke to the bright sunlight which hit her eyelids and forced them open. Frowning, she closed her eyes again, silently willing the open curtains to close. Sadly, there seemed to be no chance of that happening. But that didn't mean she was going to go down without a fight.
'Lady Wolverhampton,' a soft feminine voice said in her ear and she frowned. Who was Lady Wolverhampton?
Eleanor stirred in the bed before slowly sitting up and opening her eyes reluctantly. A girl around her age - eighteen - with mousy brown hair in a tight bun and doe-like brown eyes stared at her with fascination. Eleanor frowned and the girl immediately scrambled away and dipped into a low curtsy.
'Lady Wolverhampton,' she said again as she rose. Eleanor wondered again who she was addressing. There was no one in the room except she and the -
'Oh,' Eleanor mused, 'you were speaking to me.' She had forgotten that she was Lady Wolverhampton now that she was married to Nathan. Lord, she was married. She was Lady Eleanor Huntington, the Duchess of Wolverhampton. The thought sent a shiver through her. The title certainly hadn't felt as daunting before.
The girl nodded confusedly. 'Yes, my lady,' she said before adorning a smile on her face and continuing. 'I'm Lacy, my lady. I am to be your new lady's maid.'
Eleanor stood up, smiling at her. 'Hello, Lacy. I'm delighted to meet you.'
Lacy smiled faintly back at her. 'As am I, my lady.'
'What time is it?' Eleanor asked, rising from the bed and wrapping her dressing robe around her. The curtains were drawn and bright light streamed into the room so it was undoubtedly still daytime.
'It is nearing lunchtime, my lady,' Lacy informed her with a faint blush tinting her pale cheeks.
Eleanor's eyes widened and she gaped at the poor girl before running to the powder room and frantically getting ready, Lacy right by her side, helping her undress and bathe.
'Why did you not wake me up sooner, Lacy?' Eleanor demanded. How on earth had she managed to sleep in in the first place? She hadn't been tired the night before.
Lacy's blush deepened as she replied, stuttering. 'Well, miss, I-I-I did come to call you at half past eight but His Grace told me I was not to wake you.'
Eleanor snapped her head up and frowned. 'Why would His Grace tell you that?'
She didn't think it was possible that Lacy's blush could redden anymore but the girl proved her wrong as her face lit up in a brilliant shade of crimson.
'My lady, when I came in, His Grace was in the room and told me I was not to wake you up as you were tired from last night's...activities.' She said the last word with much effort and Eleanor frowned, wondering why she was going into such a frenzy. And then, it dawned on her and it was her turn to blush.
