Page 80 of The Forgotten Duke


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“Fencing?” the boys exclaimed in unison. They looked at each other, then at the Duke.

“Of course. Every gentleman of breeding must know how to fence properly. I will hire the best fencing master in all of Vienna to teach you.”

“Famos!” the boys said together.

“You will have to earn your fencing lessons by proving that you learn diligently in all your other subjects. I will receive daily reports from your tutors, and if you have studied well, you will earn your fencing lesson.”

“That is a very wise decision.” Lena nodded. “How wonderful for you, boys. And me, what will I do?”

“You will remain by my side at all social functions as my duchess.”

Lena bit her lip. After a while, she gave an almost imperceptible nod.

That evening, after the children had gone to bed, Lena went to the Duke’s bedroom and knocked gently on the door. She heard his footsteps, followed by the creaking of the hinges as the door opened. He stood before her in stockings, his shirtsleeves rolled up to reveal powerful forearms. For a moment, she was distracted by the sight.

“Lena. It is late. Is something the matter?” he asked, his voice soft but firm.

She blushed and blinked quickly. “I need to talk to you. Could we talk outside in the garden, please?”

He arched an eyebrow. “It just started raining. May I suggest the parlour downstairs instead?”

She nodded. “Very well.”

In the parlour, she added several logs to the fire, which crackled warmly in the fireplace. The Duke joined her, now wearing his coat, and Lena couldn't help but feel he was less approachable with it on.

“What is it you want to talk about, Lena?”

She took a deep breath. “I've thought about what you said earlier. I’ll accompany you to all the social functions you need and do my best to be a hostess you won’t be embarrassed by. I can't promise perfection. I tend to trip over my own feet and drop things at the worst possible times, oh, and have you noticed that I have a tendency to spill things on my clothes? If I was ever good at this—” she made a vague gesture with her hands “—this thing that duchesses are supposed to do, which I doubt I ever was, I’ve forgotten all about it by now.”

A hint of a smile flickered across his face. Lena treasured those moments when he smiled; it was like sunlight breaking over a desolate landscape, turning it into honeyed gold.

“We never entertained on a large scale at Aldingbourne Hall,” he said, “but I remember you liked to host tea parties in the gardens to which you invited our tenants’ children.”

Her eyes were wide. “I did? Truly? Did I spill the tea over them when I poured it?”

A laugh escaped him.

“My point being, I’ll try my best to be a proper duchess.” She folded her hands meekly.

“But?” he asked. “I sense there is a ‘but’.”

Lena heaved a deep sigh. “But I can’t give up performing. It's the only thing I do well, and it brings in money.”

The smile vanished. “There’s no need for you to earn money,” he said in a level voice. “My funds are sufficient for everyone.”

She shook her head. “No.”

“No?” he repeated softly.

“I can't give it up. Music is who I am. It defines me.”

“I am the Duke of Aldingbourne. I cannot and will not allow the Duchess of Aldingbourne to perform in public. It's grossly inappropriate and simply not done. You may perform privately, organise musical soirees, invite everyone you wish, but you will not earn a penny. Once you are my duchess, you will no longer be a working musician.”

“How can you be so certain of everything?” Lena burst out, unable to contain her frustration.

“What do you mean?”

“Certain that I am your wife, that Hector is your son, that I’ll be a worthy duchess, that it will all work out and we’ll be happy together?”