Page 46 of Lavender’s Lost Duke

“I look forward to it.” Lord Chilcott smiled again, and it might have been genuine.

Lavender didn’t know what her interest was when it came to the duke. Did she truly think he could be a match for her as Tom suggested? Or was it Tom’s influence on her that made the man an option? She was a little embarrassed to realize she’d actually begun considering the duke at all. It was highly unlikely. Then again, any option sounded better than Lord Chilcott.

She also knew that try as he might to change, Lord Chilcott’s interest in her was not based on his feelings. Why then had he chosen her to court if not out of affection? That much didn’t bother her. If she wanted a marriage of convenience, then maybe he did as well. She just couldn’t decide what it was about her that made their relationship convenient for him. She hoped to learn his motivations before taking the relationship too far—but time was in short supply.

Chapter 22

Thomas sat in the wicker chair in the corner of the guest room with nothing to do but stare out the window at the back garden. At least it was a better view than he would have if he were detained in the Tower of London. He considered it a blessing that parliament hadn’t called for him to present himself for that very reason. Lord Chilcott’s attempts to frame him for treason must not be enough for that yet. Bile rose in Thomas’s throat at the thought of his despicable cousin.

The man had been here last night, and Thomas had watched in agony as his enemy of fifteen years took Lady Lavender out amongst the grounds he’d spent weeks making beautiful. He’d weeded, and trimmed, and planted the gardens for so long, he felt like he knew them as well as a sibling. And now Lord Chilcott had invaded the precious space. Thomas’s only consolation was that Lady Lavender hadn’t used the swing with the jackanapes. That would have been going too far. He might have done something intolerably stupid like challenging the baron to a duel over the matter.

A soft knock came at the door and the duchess peeked in. “How are you, Your Grace?”

Thomas looked down at his hands. “I’m bored. My hands are going to get soft if you make me stay here much longer.”

“Perhaps I am doing you a favor. Dukes don’t typically have rough, calloused hands.”

“This one does.” He motioned to himself, surprised at the pride he felt at the admission.

Miriam smiled at him, but there was mischief in her eyes. “I’ll send Daniel up to you. Then you can’t claim I’ve killed you of boredom.”

“You’d better send up marbles and books as well, then.”

“Books?”

“I like trying to teach people to read. Jack is getting quite proficient. Granted, I can’t take all the credit. Lady Lavender has had a large hand in the endeavor as well.”

“Lovely,” she said with a smile. “Enjoy your peace and quiet while you still have it.”

The door clicked closed, and Thomas leaned his head back against the wall. What he was experiencing was certainly not peace, but Daniel would help fix the quiet when he arrived. However bored he’d been, he hadn’t had a single moment of wanting to drink. He was sure that Samuel or Miriam would have gladly supplied him with something since he was locked up here with nothing to do. But the liquid didn’t call to him any longer. He was putting his mind to more important things, like how he was going to create a way for the lower classes to have a better education.

A few moments later, Daniel barreled into the room like a miss-shot cannon ball, the door banging against the wall when he entered. He held up his arms, full of toys and trinkets piled high atop of a book. “Mother said we get to play.” His little eyes lit with excitement.

“Then play we shall,” Thomas replied with a chuckle.

Daniel dumped his armful of treasures atop of the bed Thomas had slept in. It had been a long time since he’d slept in quarters so comfortable. The mattress was even long enough for him. If he hadn’t been so worried about what Lord Chilcott and Lady Lavender had been discussing in the garden, he might have been able to sleep better.

“What would you like to play first?”

Daniel picked up a long string. “What is this for?”

“Ah,” Thomas took it from Daniel and laid it on the wooden floor in the shape of a circle. “This is how I teach you to play marbles.” He found a leather sack full of the heavy glass beads and began teaching the intricacies of the game to the little boy.

After twenty minutes, Daniel still didn’t understand all the rules, but he lined up the taw in his small fist and knocked two marbles out of the circle with one shot. He jumped up and whooped like he’d just beat Napoleon in battle, and then proceeded to dance around until Thomas picked him up and tossed him into the air.

Perhaps spending a week in the room wouldn’t be torture after all.

Then the duchess came and collected Daniel for his nap, and Thomas realized it wasn’t even supper yet. There were still hours left for him to worry over his future.

“Do you know the definition of torture?” Thomas asked Samuel when he checked in on him after the second day of being locked in the small room.

Samuel’s shoulders shook from laughter. “It’s not like we aren’t feeding you. Two months ago, you wouldn’t have complained half as much about spending some time away from society’s prying eyes.”

“Two months ago, I would have been too far in my cups to notice I needed to be useful. I need something else to take my mind off of things. Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with Daniel. But he’s hardly an opponent when it comes to marbles. And your son won’t allow me two minutes to try to teach him his letters.”

“He’s three.”

“And he should learn to read.”