Page 39 of Lavender’s Lost Duke

Lord Chilcott smiled wide. “I enjoy the same. What a coincidence. I can only imagine the conversations we will have.”

Lavender took a bite of her pistachio ice and let it melt across her tongue. The coolness distracted her for a moment from the buzzing she could hear. “Who is your favorite poet?”

His wide smile faltered for a moment before he filled his mouth with a large spoonful of his own ice. After a long moment of waiting, he put a hand over his heart. “Can you pick? I know I certainly can’t.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. Why was he lying? “I adore the works of Lord Trippen.” She watched his reaction carefully.

He nodded his head. “He does have a way with words, doesn’t he?”

Seeing as Lavender had pulled the name from nowhere, she put up her guard against everything he chose to say on the topic of books and potentially anything else they discussed. The man didn’t know a thing about poetry and wouldn’t be honest with her, it seemed.

She ate another bite of her ice, not knowing what to talk about. The silence between them was filled with buzzing around her, and she itched to run from the park. It wasn’t that she never left home during the day, but it wasn’t ever an entirely comfortable experience, and she was usually with people who understood her situation. She used her fan to bat a fly away from her nose and her body involuntarily trembled.

Lord Chilcott stepped away to converse with his driver. Her maid exited the carriage and made her way toward Lavender.

Lavender hoped he was asking the man to prepare the carriage to depart. But much to her chagrin, she saw the man leave . . . with the carriage. “Where has our conveyance gone?” she asked Lord Chilcott when he returned.

“I told him to take the afternoon to go visit his ailing brother. As it is such a nice day, I hoped we might walk back to your residence together.” He put a hand on her arm. “Don’t worry, your maid has been left behind to be our chaperone.”

She knew he was hoping to impress her with his thoughtfulness, and half of it worked. She was immensely gratified that they were not left alone, and even she could admit that Lord Chilcott seemed to have good intentions toward his driver to allow him time with his brother. But she was slightly panicked at how long she would be outside with all the bees. The sugar in their ices caused the insects to hover about incessantly. “I do hope his brother will be well.”

“As do I. I try my best to allow my servants the ability to watch over their kin.”

Lavender squirmed on the bench. Everything he said was an act. She could feel it, and yet, she hoped she was wrong. For if he was lying about being good to his staff, what type of master was he in reality? Could she attach herself to a man so obviously deceptive? Mr. Lanscombe had been that way—Lavender had been merely a distraction for the cad. On the other hand, if Lord Chilcott was so anxious to please others that he was willing to lie, would Lavender herself fall into that category? Would he treat her exceptionally well just for the perception of it?

Once they’d both finished their ices, they exited the park on foot, her maid trailing behind. Lavender threaded her arm through his and racked her mind for something to talk about. The problem was, she didn’t necessarily want to talk to him if she couldn’t trust what he would say. She was hot, and tired, and still watchful of bees.

Their pace would have made a turtle feel fast. Person after person stopped to speak with Lord Chilcott, and none of them acknowledged her presence at all. It wasn’t until Lord Chilcott got into a heated discussion with another gentleman about how the lost duke was acting irresponsibly by allowing his seat in parliament to be empty for so long that Lavender was able to extricate her arm from his. His treatment of her in public was insulting, not that it surprised her all that greatly. She walked on without him.

She’d made it past six shops before she heard him jogging to catch up with her. “Lady Lavender, we have been having such an excellent afternoon. Why did you leave?”

She arched a brow at him. Her nerves were stretched thin, and despite all her mother’s attempts of teaching her to keep her own problems to herself, she found she didn’t have the patience for it today. “You cannot think of a single reason?”

“Of course not, unless you are feeling ill again.”

She sighed. “I do not intend to act as an invisible chaperone as you go about your business. You were doing very well without me.”

He grabbed her hand, and her long glove began slipping down her arm. She tugged it back into place. “Please, just take me home.”

“You are upset with me.”

“Yes, yes I am.” She extricated her hand and continued walking. Her mother would have locked her in her room for a week if she had been witness to their interaction. Lavender could feel Lord Chilcott walking at her side, but she did her best to ignore him. They turned onto the road leading to the Duke of Gilfordshire’s townhouse in silence. All she wanted to do was go out to the garden and talk to Tom, but that wasn’t an option for her right now. Last night she’d decided that they needed space, and she wouldn’t put them both through more unnecessary pain. Besides, night was a far way off.

“I have behaved abominably, my lady. Please, forgive me,” Lord Chilcott said.

“For what? I don’t believe you realize in the least where you erred today,” she challenged him, her temper not having abated despite their awkward silence. She could feel any progress she’d made toward finding a match with the man unravel at an astounding speed, and it was relieving and condemning all in one heartbeat.

They faced each other, and she could see bashfulness written in the downturn of his head. “I admit, I don’t know. Did you not enjoy your ice?”

She took a deep breath. “I do not enjoy being dragged about town like a child you have chosen to ignore while you talk to your friends. We have not had a single conversation all day that has been genuine. You do not read poetry, for Lord Trippen is not a poet, nor a real person. You have not learned a thing about me, nor I you.”

Lord Chilcott had the good grace to look ashamed of himself. “Is it a sin to try to impress you?”

“It is a sin to lie and deceive. I want nothing to do with it.” She took a large step away from him, a little embarrassed by her outburst. She was sure she would have to begin anew in finding someone to help her bring peace to her family. Hopefully her father would live long enough for her to learn to be the soft-spoken, docile child she was raised to be again, but today was not that day.

To Lavender’s shock, Lord Chilcott put his hands up as if he were surrendering a war. “This is why I need you in my life. Imagine the good we could do together.”

Lavender felt her mouth drop open. “Together? You purchased me an ice today, and that is the only good that has been accomplished. The rest of the time you have either been lying or slandering the name of the Duke of Fenleigh. It makes me want to get to know the man better. For if you hate him so much, he must be a decent man.”