NOT JUST A WALLFLOWER by Carole Mortimer Read Free Book Online Page A

of such understated beauty, and surprisingly fiery a temperament as Eleanor, was not destined to occupy the arms, the bed, of some lucky gentleman. In other circumstances, she would almost certainly have made the perfect mistress—
    No, he really must not think of her in such terms. He must in future consider himself as purely a guardian where she was concerned.
    Even if his extremely private inner thoughts strayed constantly in the opposite direction!
    ‘Have you drawn any conclusions yet as to how you might thwart my grandmother’s plans for your immediate future?’ Justin teased after several long minutes of her pacing. ‘If so, I wish you would share them with me, if only for my own future reference?’
    Ellie came to an abrupt halt to glare across the library at the lazily reclining form of the relaxed duke, the glow from the flames of the fire turning his fashionably styled hair a rich and burnished gold, those patrician features thrown into stark and cruel relief, and causing Ellie’s pulse to quicken in spite of herself.
    The rapidity of her pulse, and sudden shortness of breath, told her that, although she now doubted herself in love with him any more, she was still not completely averse to his physical attributes, at least.
    His arrogance and mockery, when directly aimed at her, as they now were, were something else entirely, the former frustrating her and the latter infuriating her.
    She drew in a deep and steady breath before answering him. ‘I do not see why I cannot, politely but firmly, inform her Grace of my feelings of aversion to an arranged marriage—you find something amusing in that approach?’ she prompted sharply as he laughed out loud.
    ‘Truth be told, I find it ridiculous in the extreme.’ Justin flashed his even white teeth in an unsympathetic grin. ‘My grandmother, as I am sure you are aware, has all the subtlety of a battering ram. That being so, I doubt your own feelings on the matter will even be considered. Nor will anything you have to say on the subject shake her unwavering certainty that she feels she knows what is best for you,’ he added firmly as Ellie would have protested.
    ‘Perhaps if you were to—no, I see that you are so entertained by the whole idea, you would not even consider coming to my aid!’ Ellie eyed him in utter disgust as he continued to grin at her in that unsympathetic manner.
    He eyed her mockingly. ‘Perhaps if you were to tell me of the reasons for your reluctance in this matter, I’d feel more inclined to help you out?’
    Ellie gave an impatient shake of her head. ‘No doubt they are the same as your own. I could never marry anyone whom I did not love with the whole of my heart and who did not love me in the same way.’
    All amusement fled as he stood up abruptly, his eyes now a cold and glittering sapphire blue. ‘There you are wrong, Eleanor,’ he rasped. ‘My own feelings on that particular subject are in total opposition to your own,’ he elaborated harshly as she raised questioning brows, ‘in that I would never consider marrying anyone who declared a love for me, or vice versa.’
    Ellie’s eyes widened at his words and the coldness of the tone in which he said them. She had believed that the duke’s aversion to marriage was because he had not yet met the woman whom he loved enough to make his duchess. His statement now showed it was the opposite.
    Ellie could not help but wonder why...
    She was aware, of course, that many marriages in the ton were made for financial or social gain, as her mother’s had been to Frederick St Just. But often the couples in those marriages learnt a respect and affection for each other, and in some cases love itself. Again, that had not happened in her mother’s case, her marriage to Frederick, an inveterate gambler and womaniser, tolerable at best, painful at worst, certainly colouring Ellie’s own views on the subject.
    But for any gentleman to deliberately state his intention of never feeling love