Page 22 of Lavender’s Lost Duke

The burly man with a leather apron turned behind him and began pulling on the large spool of rope. “What are you making?”

“A tree swing for the duke,” Jack answered.

“Fenleigh?” The man asked with a raise of his eyebrow.

Jack laughed and Thomas pulled his cap lower on his head. “No, we’ll be putting this on the Duke of Gilfordshire’s account.”

“Ah.” The man nodded, losing his enthusiasm. “That’s too bad. I’ve heard that Lord Chilcott has offered a hefty sum to anyone who has information on Fenleigh’s whereabouts.” He set the rope on the counter and tied the lengths together with a piece of twine. “Good luck, boys.”

Jack thanked the man and Thomas nodded, silently, hardly daring to breathe. He kept his gaze on his boots the remainder of the journey back to the townhouse in Mayfair, his mind spinning all the while. Thomas had disappeared just under two weeks ago now. Why couldn’t Lord Chilcott let the matter drop and stop harassing people to find him? How large was the sum of money he offered for information? And what was Chilcott going to do if he did find Thomas? Thomas hadn’t helped any French spies during the war, and his father had been dead for the past fifteen years. Unless Chilcott was planting evidence somewhere, the entire case would come to naught.

Then again, if he was so determined to see the case through, he must have come across some piece of compelling evidence to begin his own personal reign of terror. Thomas doubted the man woke up one morning and thought to himself. I know. I’ll just have him tried for treason and killed. Their spats had never come to anything so serious as to make the baron sink so low as that. No, there had to be more behind his claims . . . but what was it, and how could Thomas find the truth of the matter?

He sat on the garden bench and rested his head in his hands, trying to give his mind a rest from the questions that had plagued him every spare minute the remainder of the day. He was so consumed with them that he didn’t hear Lady Lavender enter the garden. She walked in front of him, and he jerked backward, almost knocking the wooden bench over. “Goodness.” He tried to wipe the embarrassment from his face. “I didn’t realize you were here.”

“Really? I am all astonishment.” Lady Lavender took her place beside him. The full moon illuminated the gentle smile on her face. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“There’s no need to apologize.” Thomas ran his hand, now thick with callouses, across the back of his neck. “I have a surprise for you.”

Her expression lightened and her hazel eyes glittered in the moonlight. “You do?”

He extended his hand to her and pulled her to her feet before releasing her hand again. “Come with me.” Thomas showed her to the oak tree. He and Jack had wrapped the swing up over the lowest branch after Jack had tested it out and proclaimed it as ripe as a hound . . . whatever that meant. Thomas untied it and brought it down to hang next to her knees. Then he looked up at her and his breath caught. He couldn’t recall a time he’d been more nervous of her reaction.

“You made this for me?” She was blinking fast, and Thomas expected tears to fall. He didn’t think her emotions were of the bad sort, so he didn’t worry.

“I thought you’d enjoy it.” He looked over at the back of the house. A window from an upper room illuminated the duke looking over the garden. Thomas had asked permission to make the swing, so he wasn’t surprised that his friend was here to watch it the first time. Thomas waved to him, and Samuel waved back.

Lady Lavender pulled on the ropes and then sat with her back to the house. “Would you mind pushing me?”

Mind? No. Absolutely not. Was it a good idea? Completely terrible. “Of course, my lady.” Thomas stood behind her and put his hands on the small of her back, pushing gently. With each push he lost a little more of his composure. Thankfully, Lady Lavender was looking the other way, otherwise there would be no hiding the feelings Thomas felt for her. They must be written across his face like a street sign.

“Has anyone else tested the swing?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yes, I had Jack give it a try.”

“Then why aren’t you pushing me higher?” she laughed.

Thomas’s heart beat even more erratically at her teasing. This woman had no idea what she was doing to him. But he pushed her higher, and she started to lean back to keep her momentum going. “It’s been ages since I’ve been on a swing. I love it. Thank you, Tom.”

Thomas could have stayed where he was all night long, pushing her, having an excuse to touch her at all, over and over again. His hands would never be the same. He looked down at them between pushes and reiterated the thought. These hands of his were a little cracked and bleeding on some knuckles. He had callouses on the insides of his fingers and palm. These hands of his had learned to work, and now they had touched someone that was pure and good, and she was becoming more dear to him than he dared to admit.

Eventually, the swing slowed, and Thomas leaned against the trunk of the old oak tree as he looked at her. “So, Lady Lavender, do you have any questions for me tonight?”

Her face was lit up in delight. “Of course I do.” She spun on the swing so that her back rested on one of the ropes as she looked at him. Her cheeks went pink, and she began to pull up at the top of her long gloves.

Thomas looked at her arms. It was a hot evening and yet she still wore her formal gloves. She must have been warm. “And what is your question?”

She shook her head as if her thoughts had been far away. “Did the Duke of Fenleigh treat you with respect when you worked for him?”

This was a more difficult question to answer than her previous one, as he wasn’t certain how his servants felt. But Thomas tried to put himself in their shoes. He thought of his butler, Mr. Alby, who refused to sit when Thomas asked it of him, out of respect for Thomas’s position. He thought of the maid and footman rendezvousing in the garden. Their actions didn’t speak of fear of Thomas at all. It wasn’t in his nature to stalk around like a lion amongst lambs. Besides all that, he trusted every member of his staff. He’d helped hire each one, wanting to test their decency and research their work and family history.

“He was not a harsh master, nor was he prone to fits of anger. So long as I did my work, he allowed me more freedom than most servants receive.” He didn’t know why he elaborated on his answer, but it probably had something to do with the fact that he wanted Lady Lavender to see the Duke of Fenleigh as someone worth knowing. One day, he would tell her the truth of his identity.

“Then why did you leave?”

Thomas put up a hand. “Not so fast . . .”

“Yes, I know. That’s another question. You’d better ask me your question quickly because I’m determined to get my answer to that one.”