Page 32 of Lavender’s Lost Duke

Lavender spun around to see his face. “I was afraid of that. Are they the type of women who . . .”

“Stick their nose in everyone else's business and then talk about it to everyone they see? Yes. Well, at least Mrs. Carlton is.” He grimaced at her.

“Lovely.” Lavender felt herself deflate.

“I’m certain Lord Chilcott has a magnificent library, though.” He paused. “Does he respect you? Is he kind? Would he take a bee sting for you?”

She laughed a little. “You know, before today I might have answered yes to those questions. But something about the man makes me quite uncomfortable. I cannot put my finger on it.”

Tom released a long breath. “Goodness, Lady Lavender, I’ve been silently praying you’d come to that conclusion on your own. The man is a jackanapes.”

Lavender let her boots slide along the ground to stop the swing. She spun in her seat and looked up at Tom. “I believe you are right, but he hides it well. Like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. The problem is, I can’t think of a way to disentangle my name from his.”

“You could always tell him you have fallen hopelessly in love with the Duke of Fenleigh. Nothing would drive the man from you faster than that.”

“Is that why you know so much about him? Because he and the duke did not get along when you worked for Fenleigh?”

Tom’s head bobbled side to side as if he wasn’t sure exactly what to say. “To say that they did not get along would be like saying fire and gun powder were friends. There have been many rounds of fisticuffs between the two, some figuratively and some quite literally.”

Lavender nodded her head and looked forward again. “Thus the determination of the baron to ruin the duke.”

“I believe so, my lady.”

Tom began pushing the swing once more as Lavender allowed the information to settle inside her brain. Maybe she could use the missing duke as a deterrent for Lord Chilcott’s suit. “It’s my turn to ask a question, isn’t it?”

Tom’s silence was enough encouragement for Lavender to push forward. “You have told me about the duke’s habits, but almost nothing to recommend him. Why do you approve of him over Lord Chilcott?”

Tom sighed behind her. “I don’t mean to paint him as all bad. But you asked for honesty, and I wanted to give it to you. But he’s a good man. He’s determined and reliable, definitely brave enough to face an army of bees.” He winked at her. “The ladies have said he’s a handsome fellow.” They both chuckled. “I believe all he needs is a woman to ground him, and he’d become the leader he was born to be. The duke might be a little lost, but he doesn’t have anyone to tie himself to. No family, few friends, and a thousand acquaintances who only want to know him for their own self-interest.”

Lavender nodded. “Yes, much of the aristocracy suffers from the same situation. My father has made some friends, or at least I think he has. But my mother . . . well, I don’t know that she has a single real friend outside of my father.”

“But your parents are close?”

“At times.” Lavender stood from the swing and walked over to the bench. “They are close right now. She refuses to leave my father’s side in his illness. But for much of my life, they seemed to be at odds with one another.”

Tom took a seat on the bench beside her. “Perspective changes the way we think about things. In the face of separation, their differences have likely melted away.”

“Temporarily. But I don’t expect my mother’s views to change once my father is gone. I am glad they get to spend his last days in harmony with each other. Having all the children out of the house is helpful. It is almost always us that makes them disagree.” Lavender recalled all the moments she overheard them talking about what to do to make her elder sisters ready for marriage. Her mother was always the one who demanded a level of perfection only Rose could attain. Even then, all her training hadn’t paid off in the way their mother hoped.

What was more, Lavender was supposed to bring peace to their home, and she was failing. Over the years, she’d begun to believe that she was named incorrectly. For as much as she wanted to bring peace unobtrusively, she had a difficult time keeping her opinions to herself. She shook the melancholy thought from her head. “Why do Lord Chilcott and the Duke of Fenleigh dislike each other so?”

“From what I understand, Lord Chilcott and the duke are related somehow. I believe Lord Chilcott is the next in line for the dukedom if anything happens to the duke.”

Lady Lavender sat forward and rested her elbows on her knees. “I had heard that.” She took a deep breath. “I suppose it’s not all that odd then, their spats over the years. But I would suspect it to be wholly on the baron’s side. Why would the duke retaliate as much as he has?”

She looked over her shoulder to see Tom with pink cheeks. He grimaced. “I think it might have been the drinking that made him act irrationally at times.”

That was not surprising. “Tom, where do you think the duke is? Could he have gone to France?” Lavender asked.

“He could have, certainly,” Thomas admitted. “But I don’t think he would choose to do so if it made him look guilty of his charges.”

“If he was capable of thinking clearly.”

Tom rubbed the palms of his hands down his trousers. “Do you think he could change his ways?” His tone was earnest.

“Everyone can change.” Lavender put a gloved hand on his shoulder. “The good book says as much.”

Tom cleared his throat. “Then I would hazard a guess that Fenleigh is trying at this very moment to do so. He may be misguided at times, but he’s not a lost cause. He doesn’t lack ambition . . . it’s more that, well, for a long time he couldn’t look beyond the next day or the next week because he couldn’t imagine anyone waiting there for him. Not after his father died.”