Page 59 of Lavender’s Lost Duke

Then again, her time was running out. Her father was dying. How much time did she truly have to try to bring him peace of mind over her future and stability? She didn’t want to marry Mr. Lanscombe, but if he was willing to take her back, he could not be discounted completely.

“Mr. Lanscombe. If there ever comes a time when I allow you to renew your attentions toward me, I will contact you.” She spun around and looked into Tom’s stormy gray eyes. “Will you please see Mr. Lanscombe from the house?”

“It would be my pleasure, my lady.” Tom bowed to her and stepped around Lavender before he motioned Mr. Lanscombe toward the door.

Once Mr. Lanscombe was safely outside the room, Miriam rushed to Lavender’s side. “Forgive me, Lavender. I did not know that keeping that man’s identity a surprise would cause any amount of heartache. He led me to believe that you were great friends.”

“Yes, he led me to believe even more than that,” Lavender admitted as Tom stepped back into the room. “Thank you, Tom.” She inhaled sharply. “Excuse me, I have a book waiting for me in my bedchamber.”

“Of course,” Miriam looked at her with pity in her eyes.

“Thank you,” Lavender said as she brushed by Tom, the small contact with him shaking her to the bones.

Twice now, she’d given her heart away. Both times she’d been foolish. Mr. Lanscombe may have seen the error of his ways to an extent, but Lavender could never respect the man again. And Tom was never an option. She’d given her heart to him unwillingly, and she wished to take it back. How was she ever to marry another while she was in love with him? It would be dishonest. It wouldn’t be fair to the gentleman. Even if the gentleman, such as Lord Chilcott, knew she didn’t care for him, she would feel terrible. Was there no rest for the weary? No safe harbor for her heart?

Chapter 28

Tom ripped off his livery and threw it on the floor of the small room he shared with Jack. That man had clearly injured Lady Lavender. To have the audacity to come back for her was going beyond the pale. He pulled on his gardening clothes and worn boots and trudged out to the garden. He’d weeded just yesterday, but he needed to do something that made him sweat.

He checked the swing, making sure the ropes were still tied securely and trudged through the meandering paths looking for something, anything that needed his attention. It was his rotten luck to find the garden looking immaculate. On his way back toward the house, he encountered Jack.

“Her Grace sent me out to help you,” Jack said. “What are you doing?”

“Do you think the duke and duchess want to keep all their trees? I’m of a mind to chop one down.”

Jack’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “Oh, which one?”

“Any of them.”

Jack led Thomas back to the lion statue, well out of sight from the larger path. “If you’ve some anger to take out, kick Rockwell there.” He pointed at the lion.

“You’ve given him a name?” Thomas asked, trying not to be amused.

“Just now, actually. But it fits him, doesn’t it?” Jack smiled. “Do you want to kick poor Rockwell or not?”

“Not.” Thomas deadpanned. He valued his ability to walk more than that.

“Is it Lady Lavender?” the young man asked.

“It’s never been anyone but her.”

“What has she done this time?”

Thomas pounded a fist against his thigh. “I can’t keep this up. One of these days, a gentleman is going to swoop in and steal her from right under my nose. Thank goodness it wasn’t the peacock that came here today.” Whatever that man had done to Lavender wasn’t a minor incident, Thomas could feel it, and all he wanted to do was hunt the man down and challenge him to a duel.

Jack put a hand on his arm. “Remember, I’m going to the pub tonight. Rumor has it that Lady Lavender will be staying at home for the evening. Maybe she’ll decide to come talk in the garden.” He waggled his eyebrows at Thomas.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep myself from asking her to run away with me,” Thomas ran a hand through his hair. “What kind of man does that make me?”

Jack chuckled. “That makes you a man in love.”

“You’re too young to know about that,” Thomas said with a grin.

“Maybe, but even I have to admit that if anyone can inspire those feelings in a person, it’s your Lady Lavender. Maybe if she won’t have you, she’ll consider me.” Jack winked at Thomas. “Be patient, and hopefully tonight I find out something good.” He started walking back toward the house. “If you’re looking for some manual labor, there’s always mucking to do in the stables.”

The Duke of Gilfordshire’s stables likely never looked so clean, and Thomas had likely never been more disgusting in all his life. One thing about getting yourself covered in horse manure was that you weren’t necessary as a footman inside the house. Instead, Mrs. Bitters made Thomas take a bath before supper, claiming that if he didn’t clean up, his stench alone would ruin everyone’s meal.

He hadn’t particularly enjoyed mucking the stables, but he’d faced a hard truth about himself in the process. He wasn’t much better than that ridiculous Mr. Lanscombe. He’d hurt Lady Lavender as well. How could it be any other way? Thomas had all but told her he loved her but that he wasn’t willing to be with her. In Lady Lavender’s mind, it probably seemed he chose his work over fighting for a life with her.