Page 56 of Lavender’s Lost Duke

Jack wiped at his eyes and forced a laugh. “I’ve been reading to you all these weeks, so it’s about time you take a turn.”

“Well, the first thing you ought to know is my real name.” He held out his hand to shake Jack’s. “I’m Thomas Monteclare, Duke of Fenleigh.”

Jack looked at his hand and then up at his face. “You’re the lost duke.” He reached forward and took Thomas’s hand.

“I am.”

“That was the shortest story ever.”

Thomas and Jack both burst out laughing.

“I suppose that does explain most of it,” Thomas said.

“It explains why you didn’t know how to pull a weed. So, here I’ve found the lost duke.” Jack sobered. “Are you guilty?”

“Of course I’m not. But I was so tired of Lord Chilcott and his personal vendetta against me, I thought it might be a good idea to rid myself of it for a time. Only, I didn’t anticipate it would be this difficult to leave.”

“Does His Grace know?” Jack asked. He tipped his head to the side. “Am I to call you Your Grace now?”

“Yes, Samuel knows. We have been close friends over the years. And the duchess knows as well.” Thomas closed his eyes and took a breath of air as if he’d been held underwater. “But no, please don’t call me Your Grace. I think it would be best that you continue on as if you don’t know anything. I realize I’ve put you in a difficult position. Lord Chilcott’s reward for the knowledge of my location is not insignificant. I only ask you to believe me that I can pay more than he can when it comes to keeping the secret.”

Jack held up an arm as if he were swearing a solemn oath. “I will not tell a soul. Are you leaving then?”

“As soon as I can prove I’m innocent.”

“How do we do that?”

Thomas grimaced. “I shouldn’t ask it of you, but I was hoping you would be willing to help me.”

Jack shifted on the uncomfortable bed, causing a loud creak. “I’m happy to help. I owe you at least that much for all you’ve done while my hands were healing. But I don’t know the first thing about Lord Chilcott or treason. Why does he hate you?”

Thomas opened his eyes and stared at the single flame of light they had between them. “Oh, he has a right to hate me. I’ve been pretty terrible to him ever since I learned that his father and my steward were not the men I believed them to be. I thought they cared for me, that they were leading me straight after my father died. But the two of them were manipulating me. After I severed ties with both of them, my cousin and I were only encouraged to battle for dominance in any way we could. Him by his vengeful father, and me by my own pride.”

Jack put his hand up. “Lord Chilcott is your cousin?”

Thomas nodded. “It’s awful luck. The problem I face now is that I can’t leave, or I might be recognized. But maybe if you could take a trip to the pub and listen to what people are saying about it all, it might give me a place to start.” He recalled how easy it was to continue drinking until he started spouting nonsense. “But it might be best if you stick to food rather than something that would muddle your mind.”

“I’ll go tomorrow night.” Jack nodded his head once. “Don’t worry, Your Grace. We’ll find a way for you to court Lady Lavender proper-like.”

“Thank you, Jack . . . for everything.” Thomas blew out the candle. “And call me, Tom.” He lay in his bed until he could hear Jack’s deep, even breathing. Thomas trusted Jack, but he had no idea what information the young man might hear that could help the situation. It had to be more than what Thomas himself would hear in the back garden.

As he listened to Jack sleep, the memory of his uncle’s deception crashed over him in great detail. He’d been home on holiday from school and excited to catch up with his steward. Thomas’s father had passed away five years earlier, and in less than three years he would be twenty-one, which meant his uncle would officially step aside from helping Thomas run the estate. He was excited at the prospect of taking over his father’s legacy. On his way to the study, he’d cast a passing glance at the paintings on the ceiling of the vast entrance hall—just another aspect of his life as a duke that he missed while he was away at school. The opulence of his estate was made more prominent in his mind after spending time in his rooms at Cambridge.

Hushed voices came from the library, and Thomas stopped to listen. His steward spoke first. "No one liked the old duke. He was demanding and critical and he was determined to hold on to the archaic ways of the government. We needed change. If only it didn't come in the form of his son."

His uncle spoke next. "You don't need to tell me about how ridiculous Thomas is. Doted upon by every breathing person he comes in contact with. Ronald follows him around at school, but he tells me all about the way Fenleigh parades through the campus." Thomas felt a pang of anger stir his chest. Ron was one of his closest friends—or so he thought. It was more than apparent that he'd been incorrect with how he thought was viewed.

Thomas put his hands on the library door to open it when he heard his uncle once more. "He's thick enough that he doesn't know how people really feel about him. Hopefully, he stays that way. It's the easiest to manipulate people when they think they are doing you a favor. I can open an account to funnel these funds into that Fenleigh will never miss. The money will likely keep coming even after the boy is of age.”

This time Thomas did push himself into the room. "You may both show yourselves out," he said with measured calm. Their guilty faces only gave Thomas more confidence in sending the men away. He turned to his steward. "You will not have any references from this time forward." He faced his uncle. "And you will have no support in any way from me or my estate."

He called for the butler, and both men stepped forward with their hands outstretched as if Thomas was going to give them a handout. He wasn't.

"Allow me to explain, Your Grace," his uncle slipped a look to the steward. But Thomas put up a hand to stop his lying words from spilling out. "You have explained quite enough."

His butler stepped up to the scene and bowed to Thomas. "How may I be of assistance, Your Grace?"

"These two are to leave this estate and they are not welcome back. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"