The butler dashed off and soon brought a tray of sweet coconut bread and the amber bottles the duke hid in his study. There was really no need for the secrecy. The duchess indulged him. Again, how could the duke be a fool and the luckiest of all men?
The door closed behind the butler.
“Let me understand this,” the duke said after clearing his mouth of the chunk of coconut bread. “Your wife, the woman you married three years ago. The one who left you in December, is my wife’s sister.”
Felton plucked at a toasted corner of the bread. The sugary textured crisps and caramelized bits made the edges a chewy heaven. “Repeating any of this does not change the facts.”
“I need a full confession. You upset your wife, allegedly my sister-in-law, so badly she left. What happened?”
The man fidgeted like he searched for a sidearm, and Felton didn’t know if that was a worthy punishment for a fool loving and losing an estranged wife.
CHAPTER24
FELTON—FRIENDLYFOOLISHADVICE
Brushing the crumbs from his fingers, Felton prepared to voice his faults. “I was stupid. I overreacted. My cousin was bleeding. I thought she stabbed him.”
“What?” The duke began tugging at the top of the rum flask like he would drink straight from the bottle. “My sister-in-law attacked someone.”
Waving his hands, Felton started again. “Forget about that part. Gladstone said something that made me think Cecilia was unfaithful. She wasn’t. She left before I could apologize. It’s the old duke’s fault for baiting me, but the actions are mine. I did this. I made Lady Gantry think she’d lost my trust.”
Repington poured a third of a glass of his treasured rum. The droplets of amber shimmered in the candlelight, much like Cecilia’s wondrous eyes. It merely needed to reflect the bits of greens and red-brown in the center.
“You thought Lady Gantry was unfaithful with Gladstone?”
“Worse, Repington. With my father.”
The duke took a sip, then another sip, until he kissed an empty glass. “Your father, the man who has made your life difficult, the man who’s cheated people of their land and property, the scoundrel with, let’s say, rigid views on race—”
“Prejudice. The word is prejudice, Your Grace.”
“How could you let anything this cousin say make you think my sister-in-law would cheat with the Duke of Tramel, this prejudiced duke?”
Felton looked at the large bottle of brandy which called him to drown all his sorrows, but he abstained. “Tramel. Ah . . . he liked Cecilia. He’s in love with her.”
The duke’s gaze narrowed. “We’re talking about your father. He liked your foreign . . . Blackamoor wife?”
“One could swear it was love. Their first meeting was awkward. Then he saw her paint. After that, they got on quite well. They spent lots of time together, even more when we had difficulties and when I went on missions for the Department of War and the Colonies.”
“What are you saying, Gantry? Did you suspect something between them?”
“Yes. No. I know Cecilia was faithful to me now, but then. I . . . I was a jealous fool. I figured out too late that my father used her as another pawn to torment me. Cecilia and I were both pawns. I’m such a fool.”
The duke loosened his cravat, then slouched in his chair. “Do you know where she is? Patience has nightmares. She often talks in her sleep about her two sisters. That painting she said looked like her sister’s work, but it had been years since she last saw Miss Thomas’s art. She wasn’t sure.”
“Covent Garden is where Cecilia is now. I’ve had some surveillance done. Yesterday, she was hired to do another theatre commission. Lady Gantry is pretending to be a widow.”
The tapping of the duke’s cane on the floor became more apparent. Felton’s friend was a man of action, not one to sit around miserably staring at oil paintings.
Felton lifted his hand to Repington. “You must calm yourself before you do make your back go out. Your duchess is growing heavier with your babe. Be at ease, ready to be of comfort, not laid up in bed.”
The cane stopped jittering. “So, what’s the plan? How do we win your wife back?”
“We?”
“I’m woefully underutilized by the strategists at Whitehall. The women have the Widow’s Grace, but since you live, that sort of disqualifies Lady Gantry from seeking their help. That leaves you and me. Don’t you think there should be a countering group for men?”
“Always looking for a new battle, aye, Repington?”
