Page 40 of Lavender’s Lost Duke

His eyes sharpened and she could have sworn she saw a flash of lightning cross his face. “He is not, and that might be the truest thing I have said all day. You must think quite highly of yourself if you think I will allow these accusations against my character to circulate.”

“And you are going to stop me from speaking to my sponsor?” She brushed past him and made it to the bottom of the steps of the townhouse.

“Lady Lavender, I care for you. I want to help you bring peace to your dying father. Can you not see a small amount of good in me?”

She clenched her jaw. “I cannot consider marrying someone that I do not respect.”

“I’ll be better. Don’t you see that I need you? Your guidance, your wisdom? Please give me another chance to make things right.”

As much as she hated the idea of allowing him to be connected to her, he was the only gentleman who had paid her particular attention this past month. “I will think on it.”

“Thank you.” He bowed over her hand, but she pulled it back.

“But things must be different from now on, and I make no promises.”

“Of course.”

Lavender turned and ascended to the front door where the butler was waiting for her. She pulled off her long white gloves, happy to be rid of them, and went directly to the kitchen where she found Jack. She helped change his bandages, the action not giving her soul the rest she’d hoped for.

So she tried the library. The collection of poetry she picked up gave her mind no relief from the trials of the day.

There was a coursing through her veins that gave her a feverish energy. In an odd turn of events, she felt . . . powerful. In a way, it reminded her of when she’d told Mr. Lanscombe to leave. When it came down to it, she wasn’t someone who would be taken advantage of. She’d proven it to herself twice over now. Only time would tell if her candidness would make any difference in her relationship with Lord Chilcott.

She needed to work off her anxious energy in a larger space, as the library felt too confining at the moment. She picked up her fan and replaced her long gloves before venturing out to the garden. Could Lord Chilcott truly change? She’d told Tom that she believed people could change. But Lord Chilcott might put that assertion to the test. She wanted to believe that he was in earnest, that he wanted to be a better man, but it didn't feel like that could happen very quickly, if at all. Would it be worth it to let him try? Her mother would say that every sacrifice for the family was worth it. But what would her father think if she married Lord Chilcott to bring him peace, but then was miserable for it?

Chapter 20

Thomas kept himself hidden behind the hedges when he heard someone pacing the path on the other side of him. He knelt in the dirt and tried to keep to himself and be an invisible servant like usual. He weeded a section of soil and then traced a word in the smooth dirt for Jack to find later on: M-E-A-L.

The steps on the other side of the hedge faltered and then he heard a scream that made his heart stop. He jumped to his feet and ran to see what was happening. It was Lady Lavender, swatting at the air around her blindly until she dropped her fan and began running right toward him.

He caught her mid-flight, panic written across her face.

“A bee,” she gasped. “It stung me!” She started tearing at the bodice of her dress, her hands trembling and unsuccessful in their desperate search. “I need my rose water, Tom!”

“I’m here.” Thomas put his hands under hers and felt for something, anything to let him know where the rose water was hidden. His knuckle hit on something hard near her side and he finally found the opening of a hidden pocket to pull out a small glass vial. “Where were you stung?” His heart pumped wildly,

“They won’t leave me alone!” she shrieked, swatting at the air around her face.

Thomas didn’t see any more bees, but she wasn’t settling, and she hadn’t heard his question. She needed to be somewhere she felt safe. He pocketed the rose water, scooped her up in his arms, and jogged to the back door of the house, adrenaline coursing through his body like a rushing river.

Mrs. Bitters jumped at his entrance. “Tom, what is the meaning of this?”

“I need your help.” He set Lady Lavender down on the empty kitchen table. One look at her collar bone had him starting to shake himself. The skin was angry red and swelling up visibly. “She was stung.” He fumbled around in his pocket until he could retrieve the vial. “She told me she needs this on her sting.”

Mrs. Bitters sent someone to fetch the duchess while she wiped her hands on her apron. “Let’s take a look.” She bustled over to the table where Lady Lavender was breathing in shallow bursts, tears escaping the corners of her pinched eyes. “Oh my.”

Thomas unstopped the vial and Mrs. Bitters tried to hold Lady Lavender still while he poured a few drops over the red area with shaking hands. He prayed he was doing it correctly, that it wouldn’t be his fault if she—no! He couldn’t allow himself to think of the worst-case scenario. But the scene before him was driving him mad. He tipped the vial and watched as a few drops of the pale liquid splashed across her collar bone where the skin was the most swollen. He used his forefinger to coax the rosewater toward the sting. It seemed to soak into her skin before it even got there. So he poured more, his hands shaking so violently the next drop fell onto the sleeve of her dress. He refocused his energy into staying stable and kept the opening of the vial right next to her skin. He rubbed it in again, praying all the while that a miracle would happen.

Miriam burst into the room. “I’ve brought my tweezers.”

Thomas stepped in front of Lady Lavender. “Why do you need tweezers?”

“To remove the stinger. Rose has told me what to do. Step aside, Tom.” She pushed past him.

Why he felt the sudden need to protect Lady Lavender from Miriam was absolute madness on his part.

Lady Lavender was clawing off her gloves and looking at the scars on her arm. “It hurts. It hurts.”