Do you enjoy romances with a second courting couple? Perhaps they are the couple for the next book in the series. Or perhaps they are a foil and contrast to the main protagonists. Sometimes, as in the excerpt that follows, the secondary couple have their romance arc over the whole series. Feel free to share an excerpt with your secondary courting couple. Here are the Duchess of Haverford and the Duke of Wellbridge, meeting alone in the third novel in the four novel series Children of the Mountain King: The Return.
James followed Eleanor across a small entrance hall to a cosy little parlour, where a fire burned in the hearth and a tray with a tea set waited on a small table between two chairs. Eleanor took the seat closest to the tea pot and waved her hand to the other. “Be seated, dear friend. Would you care for tea?”
Tea was not what he hungered for. For ten years after Mahzad’s death, he had thought himself beyond desire, but Eleanor brought it roaring back the first time he saw her on his return to England. Getting to know her again had only increased his longing; she was even lovelier, both within and without, than when they had first met long ago, before James was forced into exile and Eleanor was made to marry Haverford.
He kept his feelings to himself. If he told her his hopes, and if she shared them, he didn’t trust himself to be alone with her like this without besmirching his honour and insulting hers.
Eleanor was a married woman and virtuous, even if her husband was a monster. Even if the old devil was rotting from within and locked away for his own good and to protect the duchy. He accepted the offered seat and the cup of tea; asked after the duchess’s children and caught her up to date with his own; exchanged comments on the war news and the state of the harvest.
“James,” she said at last, “I proposed this meeting for a reason.”
“To see me, I hope. Since Parliament went into recess and we both left London, I have missed our weekly visits to that little bookshop you frequent.”
Eleanor smiled, and James fancied that he saw her heart in her eyes for a moment, and it leapt to match his. But her smile faded and her lashes veiled her eyes. “That, too, my dear friend. I have missed you, too. But there is another matter I need to bring to your attention.”
She grimaced and gave her head a couple of impatient shakes. “It seems I am always muddying our time together with gossip and scandal. I am so sorry, James.”
“One day, I hope we will be able to meet without subterfuge, and for no reason but our pleasure,” James said. The last word was a mistake. He might be old, but at the word ‘pleasure’ his body was reminding him urgently that he was not dead yet.
Eleanor seemed unaffected, focused on whatever bad news she had to give him. “You are aware, I am sure, of the history of your niece Sarah’s ward?”
“Her daughter?” James queried. Of course Eleanor knew. She was a confidante of his sister-in-law.
“Indeed. What you may not know—what I have just found out—is that Society is making that assumption and spreading the story.”
James shook his head. “I assumed the gossips and busybodies would reach that conclusion, but without proof or confirmation, and with the family firmly behind her, the rumours will die.”
“True, if that was all. But James, you may not know—Sarah may not know—that her little girl’s father is back in England and, if my sources are accurate, seeking a bride.”
James stiffened. “The coward has returned?”
“As to that,” Eleanor said, “Grace always suspected that Sutton and Winshire had something to do with his disappearance, and it is whispered that his father bought him out of the navy, where he had worked his way up to being a surgeon, after being press ganged.”
“And your sources are connecting Sarah and her child with this man?”
Eleanor shook her head. “Not yet. The two rumours are separate. But if the two of them meet, people may make connections. Especially if the child resembles her father.” She shrugged, even that small elegant movement unusually casual for the duchess. “It is all very manageable, James, but you needed to know.”
“I appreciate it, Eleanor.” He sighed. “English Society is more of a snake pit that the court of the Shah of Shahs or the Ottoman Sultan Khan. Tell me, what is going on between my niece Charlotte and your son Aldridge?”
Eleanor’s answer was hasty, but her eyes slid away from his. “Nothing. There can be nothing between Charlotte and Aldridge.