Page 56 of To Steal a Duchess

“Like I said, you deserve a hundred celebrations.” His voice was softer in her room, like this, just them, together, with no grand expanse of space between them. “And better parents, too.”

“Thank you, Dorian.” Eloise toyed with the edge of her bed sheet. Her heart was heavy with happiness, and Pickle was starting to doze off, stretched out between their legs, surrounded by the food. “This truly has been a rather perfect day. Perhaps not the start—” She laughed quietly at that “—but it has ended beautifully.”

She clasped the anchor-shaped pendant and pushed the bracelet around her wrist. Dorian nodded at her words, but his eyes were caught on the jewelry.

“Nancy’s gift to me,” Eloise explained. “She knows my love of—well, everything nautical, I suppose.”

Dorian’s face changed, then. “Yes. It was she who told me it was your birthday. She sent a note a week ago with rather colorful threats of what would happen if I did not make it special in some way. But even without the threats, I would have done something.”

He shifted, turning to her properly. “Eloise, I know our marriage is not perfect, or romantic. It is likely far from what you have wanted since you were a young girl, raised to find the perfect, doting husband. Still, I would like to make you happy. I will try to make you happy.”

Eloise opened her mouth, ready to deny it, but Dorian shook his head.

“I saw how you looked at Nancy and Gideon after they announced their engagement.” For a moment, he looked slightly upset. “I offered this arrangement to save you. It has been wrong of me to keep you so distant. I hope tonight can be the start of us growing closer—if you will let me, of course.”

Eloise smiled, and she knew it was not only the wine that made her feel more alive again, almost a contrast to how she’d felt in the village. That had been bright and lively; this was dimmer, more theirs, a calm moment, and perhaps their fondest one yet.

“I would like that, Dorian,” she told him.

Deep down, Eloise did hope for more. But this… this was good. This was more than he had allowed her so far. This was an offer of closeness she had not expected him to give. It was the hope she had told herself to stop waiting for.

“Then we shall toast with more wine and dessert.” He poured her another glass, a smaller amount this time, and clinked his own against hers. “To Eloise, the Duchess of Oldcliff, and newly beloved addition to the village.”

Eloise couldn’t help her laughter, and Dorian almost smiled as if it had come naturally. They ate dessert, and when Eloise was ready to burst at the seams from the indulgence of her birthday feast, she went to sag into the cushions, but Dorian took her wrist to stop her.

His fingers were gentle against her bracelet as he shook his head. “Do not sleep just yet. I will selfishly ask for another moment of your time.”

Eloise blinked at him as he got off the bed, and she followed, confused.

“Wait one moment.” He ducked out of her chambers. He didn’t return for several long moments, and, in his absence, staff returned to collect the plates.

She thanked each of them for their late preparations for her, and got warm smiles in return.

When Dorian returned, he had something tucked behind his back, and Eloise, despite herself, felt her heart skip.

“Your last gift,” he told her, producing a wrapped box. It was thin but long. As he handed it to her, their fingers brushed, and Eloise tried to ignore the jump of her pulse. “Happy birthday, Eloise.”

She grinned at him before opening the box carefully, and as soon as her eyes fell on the gift inside, she clasped a hand over her mouth.

Her head snapped up to Dorian’s, her eyes wide and blurred with tears from the thoughtfulness. Gooseflesh ran over her skin, and she picked up the dainty, expensive thing.

A compass face was set into a jade frame, the arrows and lines of the face itself thin and delicate. The base was white, made of ivory, and it spun as she turned, eagerly testing it out.

“Goodness,” she whispered, turning the compass over on its silk bed.

The engraving of a company that made these by hand was scrawled there, and Eloise knew very few of them existed in the world, having come from another continent.

“Dorian, this is…” She placed the compass back onto its bed, scared to touch it too roughly in her excitement. “This is a perfect gift.”

“I know you feel stuck in this mansion now,” Dorian told her, stepping closer. “But if you decide, one day, to find what is out there and chase those travel books you like, then perhaps it will be useful. Your own adventures await. For now, though, you may start your own collection of specialties.”

He nodded at the boat model, and the compass box, and the travel books, and she knew this was his way of telling her he had heard her, he cherished their shared interest, and he was sorry for not giving her the space to discuss it sooner.

He had seen her.

Eloise couldn’t help but embrace him tightly, her breaths coming out short and fast. “Thank you,” she whispered again, her mouth almost brushing his neck when she stood on her tiptoes. “This is the best birthday, truly.”

Despite how closely she held him, Dorian’s hands hovered at her waist, his body stiff against hers. After a moment, he half-relaxed, but not a lot, and hugged her back. Eloise looked down at her compass over his shoulder, reluctant to let go.