Page 53 of Lavender’s Lost Duke

Tonight though, they were finally attending the long-awaited dinner at Lord Chilcott’s townhouse. Lavender was determined to find some answers to the mystery of the lost duke. If she got the opportunity to snoop around as she hoped to, she would take it.

Lavender set her hand over her stomach to settle the nervousness niggling about inside of her as their carriage pulled up to Lord Chilcott’s address.

“Take courage, Lady Lavender,” the dowager put a hand on Lavender’s shoulder. “You are stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

The elderly woman’s words bolstered Lavender just at the right moment. The door of the carriage swung open, and a footman not half so handsome as Tom helped her descend. She found herself gathered in the entryway as Lord Chilcott descended the stairs, reminding Lavender of the young ladies presenting themselves at court. His exaggerated entry made Lavender want to laugh, but she was certain it wouldn’t be appreciated. Instead, she adjusted her long gloves and pasted a small smile on her face.

“Welcome,” Lord Chilcott said as he swept his arm out to the side. “I am so glad you were able to join me tonight.” He held out his elbow for Lavender to take.

She did so. “Thank you for the invitation. It is lovely to see your home once again.” She remembered how quickly she’d tried to escape this place after her encounter with him in his library, but she pushed the thoughts away. Her goal tonight was to overstay, not to leave early. They needed him to let down his guard and talk.

Dinner was six courses. It was likely that the food was quite good, but Lavender hardly tasted hers. She had a difficult enough time keeping her attention on the conversation around her to notice the food. Before she knew it, she and Miriam and the dowager duchess were following a footman to the drawing room so the men could take their port.

Before the footman left them, Miriam cleared her throat. “Pardon me, would you mind showing me to the powder room?”

“Of course,” the footman bowed. “Follow me.”

Lavender helped the dowager to a seat and then positioned herself to the side of the drawing room, hoping the servant that went with Miriam would forget about her. After a couple minutes and without anyone else returning to check on her wellbeing, Lavender glanced out the doorframe into the short corridor.

“Be quick, child,” the dowager encouraged her.

Knowing there wasn’t time to waste, Lavender walked across the hall and let herself into what looked to be a study. She poked around the desk that sat against the far wall and tested the drawers. She ignored the ones that opened freely. Lord Chilcott may have a misguided moral compass, but the man was not stupid. She came to a locked drawer on the left side of the desk near the bottom. This could be a potential place he would hide important papers. But where would he keep the key? Most likely it was hidden in the room somewhere for easy access when he wanted to open the drawer.

Her eyes roamed over the room slowly. Where would she hide a key? Probably in a book. However, the only books she could see in this room were past account ledgers. Her eyes fell on the desk again. There was one book on top of it. She fingered the new binding before picking it up. She had to walk toward the window for extra light to make out the title. It was a collection of poetry.

Lavender’s breath hitched. Could Lord Chilcott have decided to read poetry after their conversation when she’d all but told him he was a liar? She’d hoped that disaster of an outing had made an impression on him, but she didn’t expect him to do something like this. No, that wasn’t precisely true. She expected him to tell her all about it if he did. He did nothing if not for public acclaim. She cracked the book open and almost forgot why she was there. It was simply poetry—no key. She replaced the book where she’d found it on the desk.

She felt guilty, snooping around as she was, but taking a slow turn about the room, Lavender looked for anything that might give her a clue to the key’s whereabouts. Nothing seemed to stick out at her. She ran her hand along surfaces that could potentially hold a key, but after a couple more minutes, she gave up her search. It wasn’t worth risking being found out so soon in the evening. She slipped back into the corridor just as Miriam walked around the corner.

Miriam covered her mouth with her hands and spun back around. “Forgive me, I think I left something,” she said to the footman who must have been leading her about the house.

Lavender made her way swiftly back into the drawing room. The dowager duchess sat in front of her and winked, then she closed her eyes, and Lavender was amazed by her ability to feign sleep.

“I do wish I had better news for you, Your Grace,” Lavender whispered, but the dowager didn’t stir.

Moments later, Miriam joined them. “Thank you for your assistance,” She dismissed the footman and came to sit next to the dowager.

Lord Chilcott’s low chuckle came from behind Lavender. “I didn’t think Lord Gilfordshire would ever finish his port tonight. Our delay even helped your mother to find sleep.”

The dowager duchess startled and put a hand up to her ear. “What was that?” The elderly lady’s eyes clouded with confusion. “I don’t know why my ability to find sheep helps anyone. Not in London anyway. And ladies shouldn’t be following after sheep in the country either.” She looked at Lavender. “If you have any trouble telling your mother that, just send word. I’ll set her straight.”

Lavender pinched her lips between her teeth. The dowager’s acting skills were quite superb. “I’ll do that, thank you.” She dropped her eyes to her lap.

The dowager stood from the sofa. “I’ll be finding the powder room, if you’ll excuse me.” She walked slowly from the room.

Lavender noticed the duke and duchess exchange glances, their lips pursed tight.

“Society is quite tiresome.” Lord Chilcott tugged at the lapels of his jacket. “Save for your mother, Gilfordshire. I like having her around. It keeps things interesting.”

Samuel sat down and swung one leg over the other, the picture of ease. “I do adore her. Now, how goes the search for Fenleigh?”

Lord Chilcott’s face lit. “I feel like we are on the verge of evidence.”

“Oh, have you found a witness?”

Lord Chilcott’s brows pulled low. “No, although that would be the perfect evidence, wouldn’t it?”

Samuel tipped his head back and looked at the ceiling. “I think that might be the only evidence strong enough to implicate the man. The crown won’t throw a duke into jail on mere suspicions.”