CHAPTER TWO
Thomas Hobbs, the Duke of Huntley, eyed his older sister, who perched across from him in his study. He sat behind the large mahogany desk, while Lavinia remained seated primly on the edge of the chair in front of it. She looked innocent enough, and she was certainly well-dressed, but the greater the distance between them, the better. Lavinia was more like a wasp than a woman. But she was his sister, and he loved her as one must love family.
He was also responsible for her. Their father had died a decade ago. At the tender age of eighteen, Thomas had been forced to leave school and take up the daunting role of duke. He’d done his best to be worthy of the title. While his friends were off drinking, studying, and cavorting, Thomas had to learn how to run his vast estate and keep his tenants happy. He’d managed not only to keep his holdings running smoothly, but he’d increased his tenants’ profits threefold.
In addition to his duty to his acreage, he’d had to watch over his mother and his unwed eldest sister. He’d taken care of his mother and provided Lavinia a generous allowance each month, with which to buy whatever clothing or fripperies she wanted. His family and the dukedom were the most important things in Thomas’s life. He’d vowed never to let anyone important to him down. Lavinia included.
He eyed her carefully. “What did you want to speak with me about?”
Lavinia rarely spoke to him, and he had to admit he was somewhat intrigued as to what she wanted.
A scrawny, one-eyed cat jumped to the desktop and Lavinia gasped. “What in heaven’s name is that thing?” She pushed herself back in her seat to put distance between herself and the animal.
Thomas stood and scooped the cat into his arms. He carefully let the cat down in the corridor outside the study and closed the door. Then he turned and made his way back to his desk. “That is Hercules.”
“You own a cat?” Lavinia’s voice dripped skepticism.
“No. I have agreed to house a cat for Delilah, who found it outside the mews near her town house badly injured by another cat. Hence its solitary eye.”
“Why doesn’t Delilah keep the cat at her house?” Lavinia asked, her nose still pinched.
“Her mother doesn’t allow animals inside.”
“I don’t blame her. It could be flea-bitten.”
“It most certainly was flea-bitten,” Thomas confirmed. “But Delilah gave it a bath and assures me it’s perfectly clean now.”
“The things you allow that girl to talk you into,” Lavinia sneered.
A grin spread across his face. “You don’t know thehalf of it. In addition to that cat, there is a three-legged dog living in the stables at Huntley Park, and a one-eared rabbit upstairs in the servants’ quarters. All courtesy of Delilah’s big heart.”
“You cannot be serious,” Lavinia intoned. “A one-eared rabbit?”
“Yes.” Thomas sighed. “But something tells me my little menagerie of misfits is not what you’ve come to speak to me about today.”
“You’re right.” Lavinia smoothed a finger over one dark eyebrow. “What I’ve come to discuss is quite simple, really.” She lifted her chin. “I want to marry.”
Thomas blinked. Surely, he’d heard her incorrectly. Lavinia had stopped searching for a husband long ago. They’d all assumed she was a confirmed spinster. He tilted his head to the side. “Marry?”
Her face remained blank. “That’s correct.”
Blast it. Hehadheard her correctly.
Lavinia barely shrugged one silk-encased shoulder. “It’s your duty to find me a husband, Thomas. I’d like it to happen by the end of the Season.”
“This Season?” Thomas tried to keep his face blank, but no doubt Lavinia could see the skepticism that was certain to be there. She was correct. He did have a duty to his sister, but he’d always assumed she would simply remain under his care indefinitely.
“That’s right.” Lavinia’s lips tightened into a prune-like bunch. “I’ve waited long enough. It’s high time I marry.”
It wasbeyondhigh time. At thirty-two, Lavinia was five years older than Thomas, and firmly and solidly on the shelf. She’d had had a debut many years ago and had nearly been married to Thomas’s good friend, Lord Owen Monroe. But his other sister, Alexandra, had been madly in love with Monroe for years, and had eventuallyconvinced both Owen’s parents and their parents to allow the match. Even though Lavinia hadn’t given a toss about Owen, she had flown into a rage, as usual, and spent the next several years doing as she pleased. Thomas suspected the worry over Lavinia’s behavior had led, at least in part, to the heart condition that had taken their father’s life several years later.
In the years since he’d become duke, this was the first time Thomas had ever had a discussion with Lavinia about taking a husband. He’d merely assumed, as they all had, that she was completely… well, unmarriageable. His sister was beautiful, educated, and poised. But she had an adder’s tongue and the disposition to match. The woman was a shrew, plain and simple.
He cleared his throat. “I’m not certain I—”
Lavinia held up a hand. “If you’re about to refuse me, I suggest you rethink your words. We both know that I was Father’s favorite. He would want this for me. I’ve been in mourning, perhaps longer than I should have been, but now I want a husband, and I intend to have one.”
She was blaming her lack of a husband on her mourning? Convenient. Lavinia always got what Lavinia wanted. Or, more correctly, what she demanded. But she also knew exactly what to say to Thomas to affect him. Laviniahadbeen Father’s favorite. And Thomas had been his least favorite. Or, more correctly, Thomas and his father had fought at nearly every opportunity. Including the last time Thomas ever saw him alive. Lavinia may have contributed to his father’s heart problem, but Thomas had put the nail in the man’s coffin, a fact he’d had to live with for the last decade, a fact he would carry with him the rest of his life.
