Chapter 9

Eleanor glared at Nathan when he came into their room a few minutes later, grinning from ear to ear. She had changed into her night clothes and now, wore a dressing gown over it, which she tightly wrapped around her.

'I hardly think Mr. Carter a gentleman, Nathan,' she said, pursing her lips and crossing her arms across her heaving chest. 'The nerve of that abominable man!'

Nathan chuckled and settled himself gently by her side on the bed. 'I know. But you did handle it quite well, my love,' he said, tucking a stray lock behind her ear.

She huffed and looked down at her stockinged feet. Her slippers had been tossed aside somewhere in the room upon her arrival. 'I know the ton thinks of me as...vermin, but they have never made me so blatantly aware of it!'

It was true. Eleanor was all too aware of what society thought of her and her father for adopting her but no one had ever said it to her face. The fact that Francis - Mr. Carter - so carelessly expressed his disdain was a slap not only to her face but Nathan's as well. It was an insult to them both! Didn't the foolish man realise that?

Nathan gently caressed her face and looked into her eyes as he answered, 'I know, my love. And I am deeply sorry. So very sorry he treated you so.' And he did look sorry. His handsome face was etched with worry and his blue eyes sparkled with guilt. Eleanor longed to wrap her arms around his neck and assure him he was not at fault but refrained from doing so. She wouldn't want him to get the wrong idea, after all.

'The only fault of yours was that you befriended that vile man,' Eleanor said, her nose wrinkling with distaste.

Nathan chuckled darkly. 'Yes, you are quite right about that. But you need not worry about that. I have broken off all connections with him. No man who insults my wife deserves my time or company.'

Eleanor's heart lurched at his endearment for her. My wife. His wife. Nathan's wife. The term had her heart dancing a jig and she chided herself for feeling so. Freedom and husband were two words which did not go together under any circumstance! Of course, that is, when you aren't tied down to your husband like Eleanor, although that could change if she let her feelings run amok.

Eleanor cleared her throat in an attempt to clear the tension hanging in the air. 'Well then. Now that we've got your priorities sorted out, how about we retire for bed?'

Nathan nodded and stood up before a dark look clouded his eyes and he smirked devilishly.

Eleanor, noticing it, frowned and asked, 'What? What is it? Why are you smiling like that? It is highly unnerving.' A sudden draft made its way in through the open window of the room and she wrapped the gown tighter to fight off the chilling bite of the cold breeze.

Nathan moved a step forward and leaned forward, placing his head right in front of hers. 'Where do you suppose we sleep, my love?' he asked lowly, his hot breath fanning her face.

Eleanor widened her eyes at his closeness and gulped. His face was ridiculously close to hers and as her eyes travelled from his blue irises to his lips - oh, his soft, pink, plump lips! - her breathing ceased and her heart ran a mile.

Bloody hell, what was this man doing to her? She had never felt this way around a man before. Then along came Nathan, the infamous Duke of Wolverhampton, with his charming smiles and alluring personality which made her poor, tired heart stop and beat wildly at the same time!

'Well,' Eleanor attempted to speak calmly but her voice came out rather hoarse. 'There is a bed. And as is common practice, people sleep on the bed...oh.' She trailed off, finally realising what he was implying and the colour rushed to her cheeks in a gushing stream of red.

There was only one bed in the room. One bed that so happened to be made for two.

Nathan laughed without any humour and his eyes dropped down from her eyes to her...was he looking at her lips?

'No!' Eleanor said suddenly, jumping up from her seat.

Nathan raised his eyes to hers and cocked his head, looking puzzled . 'No?'

Eleanor gulped yet again. 'Yes, no. As in, no, we will not be sharing the same bed. You can get rid of all your fantasies this instance!'

Nathan threw back his head laughing while Eleanor attempted to burn a hole through his head with her glare. The imbecile was laughing at her! And to think she thought she had feelings for the man just a few moments ago!

'It is not funny,' Eleanor stated coldly. 'I am not bluffing in the least when I say this. You and I will not sleep on the same bed.'

'Perhaps the chaise lounge then?' Nathan asked, an evil gleam in his eyes. 'I daresay, it should be big enough for the both of us. You are quite petite and I can hardly be called fat despite being muscled and I should think we shall be quite comfort -' Nathan was interrupted in his speech when Eleanor, fiery little minx she was, threw a book on her nightstand at him, conveniently cutting off his rant.

'I think,' Eleanor began, her chest heaving from anger - and amusement, 'that that is quite enough out of you. In case I have not been clear with my words, I shall repeat. You and I will not be sleeping together on any piece of furniture.'

'The floor then?'

Another book sailed through the air, conveniently hitting Nathan square on his chest. He grunted from the force and staggered back, placing a hand over his heart.

'I have to say, my love,' Nathan said, feigning hurt, 'you are not in the least, the darling, doting wife I thought you to be.'

Eleanor quirked a brow and placed a hand on her hip. 'Surely, you must have known that before marrying me. Heaven forbid I told you I wasn't!'

Nathan shrugged. 'It is hard to disagree when you are right. In any case, you need not worry. I shall take the chaise lounge. You can take the bed.'

Eleanor smiled at him. 'Thank you.'

'Yes, your virginity will remain intact.' He paused before smirking and continuing. 'At least for tonight.'

Oh, oh...blast that man!

'Do you have a death wish?' Eleanor asked, shaking her head in amusement. 'It almost seems like you want to provoke me. Sadly, I do not have a third book on my person at the moment. Otherwise, it too would have joined its brother and sister on the ground, by your feet.'

Nathan grinned his infamous grin before bending down to pick up the forgotten books and placing them on a table next to him. 'When it comes to you, I most certainly do have a death wish.'

'Why?'

'If it means I die from the pleasure your hands inflict upon my skin and the state of euphoria I shall be made privy to, I shall gladly greet death with open arms.' Nathan spread his arms wide and Eleanor fought the urge to smack him on his chest.

Oh, the infuriating man!

'Good night, Nathan,' Eleanor said forcefully, deciding not to incapacitate him for the time being. 'And keep your hands to yourself.'

Nathan squinted his eyes before removing his tailcoat and lying on the lounge. The action caused his muscles to bulge underneath his shirt which was now on full display for her and she marvelled at the ripples it created.

'It will be hard. But I shall try my very best,' he said, crossing his heart.

Eleanor shook her head and looked down in an effort to hide her growing blush and walked to her bed, dousing the lamp on her nightstand before ridding herself of her dressing gown and nestling beneath the linen duvet. She positioned herself in the middle of the bed and looked up at the ceiling of the room, the darkness surrounding her endlessly. The rustle of the wind rushing past the ship was the only sound to be heard in the otherwise quiet room and she felt her eyes droop against her will, almost suddenly.

'Good night. Sweet dreams, my love,' she heard Nathan say, his voice a melody cutting through the silence that hung in the air. Those words were the last she heard, before her eyes closed wholly and she was whisked off to the land of dreams.