Jo Beverley - [Rogue ] by An Arranged Mariage

Nicholas Delaney would present certain challenges. She reassured herself there was not likely to be much of it. He would be away on his travels in no time.
    Perhaps with Madame Therese, she thought crossly.
    She stood abruptly and swept to the door, but in one smooth movement he was before her and bowing her through. Drat the man!
    Lord Stainbridge was nervously pacing the parlor, watching a maid set the table. He would probably have said something indiscreet had his brother not forestalled him.
    "Eleanor is feeling slightly better now she is on dry lane again, Kit. I assure you, she is not normally so delicate. I believe a little fresh air after the meal will complete the recovery."
    Lord Stainbridge had been gazing anxiously at Eleanor as if seeking reassurance, but he accepted this lead as he seemed to accept everything his brother said and did.
    A fine protector he will be, thought Eleanor.
    "An excellent idea," the earl was saying heartily. "I believe I will join you. This crisp, clear weather is very invigorating."
    Eleanor rather thought he was overdoing things.
    Over the meal the brothers monopolized the conversation, talking of their home and sharing news of family and friends. Eleanor listened carefully for information about her new family. She drank two glasses of wine, and then lifted her glass to find it empty. She realized her "husband" had neglected to fill it the last time he had filled his own and his brother's. If I need to be drunk to get through this, she thought, then that is my affair.
    She held out her glass. "May I have more wine, please?"
    Nicholas looked at her with a smile in his eyes. "No," he said. "You will find water much more refreshing." He courteously poured her some.
    Before she could frame a response, he resumed his conversation with his brother. Short of climbing over the table to reach the bottle there was nothing she could do, but she made a great many resolutions about Mr. Nicholas Delaney, impenitent villain and tyrant.
    She was soon glad, however, that he had stopped her, for when she rose from the table the world lurched, and she had to hold onto her chair to keep her balance. She accepted his offered arm, pleased to see that his face was wisely expressionless.
    To her relief, she found that the effects soon diminished, and she was able to climb the stairs unaided to collect her cloak and reticule. She still felt, however, a slight numbness that told her the alcohol had affected her, and a mental detachment that she welcomed. She intended to think as little as possible during the next few hours.
    As she made to descend the stairs, however, Eleanor witnessed a tableau below. Nicholas Delaney was awaiting her—all loose-limbed elegance despite a day's traveling—in his high-waisted green jacket, buckskins, and boots.
    A door opened and the woman called Therese came into view, followed by a very beautiful, very young man whose blue eyes narrowed jealously when he saw the occupant of the hall. Therese, however, was obviously delighted, as was Mr. Delaney. Eleanor could not hear the words said, but the tone on both sides was light and fond. Then it became worse. A serious note entered their conversation, and Nicholas carried both the lady's hands passionately to his lips.
    The tableau broke up.
    Simultaneously Therese moved upstairs, followed by her sulky swain, and Lord Stainbridge entered from outside.
    Eleanor stepped back, both to collect her thoughts and to avoid passing the Frenchwoman on the stairs. In fact, she retreated all the way to her room, and there found to her horror that her hands were tightly clenched beneath the fold of her mantle. Come, this would never do.
    She forced herself to confront her feelings. She was jealous. Could there be anything more ridiculous? Of course he had a mistress, and it was not surprising that she was beautiful. He would doubtless set up an establishment for her. It was not uncommon, and, particularly in their situation, provided Eleanor no