Too Bruised to Stand, She Collapsed at the Ballroom—Until a Duke’s Gentle Hands Changed Her Fate
Chapter 10
Their courtship was unlike anything London had expected.
Julian sent flowers.
Not expensive bouquets.
Simple roses from his own garden.
He wrote letters by hand.
He visited Eleanor’s estate with no more than two servants.
He never touched her without asking.
When Eleanor wanted to inspect the tenant farms, he accompanied her.
When she wished to learn how her accounts were managed, he introduced her to his own steward.
When she wanted to speak at the village meeting, he sat at the back and listened.
Slowly, Eleanor changed.
Not because Julian rescued her.
Because he allowed her to discover that she had never needed rescuing from herself.
One evening, they danced alone in the empty ballroom at Ravensmere.
No orchestra.
No guests.
Only candlelight.
Julian offered his hand.
“May I?”
Eleanor placed hers in his.
“Yes.”
They moved slowly across the floor.
She winced once.
Julian immediately stopped.
“My ribs?”
“A little.”
“We can stop.”
“No.”
She smiled.
“I want to finish the dance.”
He continued.
At the end, Eleanor rested her hand against his shoulder.
“I never thought I would dance here.”
“Why?”
“Because I never imagined anyone would look at me without first seeing my fortune.”
Julian’s voice was soft.
“I saw you before I knew your fortune.”
“You saw a woman collapsing.”
“I saw a woman trying not to collapse.”
Her eyes filled.
“That is not the same thing.”
“No.”
He touched her cheek.
Only lightly.
“Nothing about you has ever been ordinary.”
She closed her eyes.
Then she kissed him.
It was gentle.
Brief.
But when they parted, both knew the courtship had changed.
