Page 81 of Lavender’s Lost Duke

Thomas pulled her to him in an embrace. “She certainly needs to be loved. She needs to know that she is the most important person in his entire world to him. But she also needs to be safe, and at the moment . . . he is not safe.”

Lavender allowed her arms to wrap around his waist, and she buried her head in his shoulder. “She’s never felt safer.”

“On the off chance that Lord Chilcott is successful at proving my guilt, she would be in grave peril, and I cannot ask her to risk so much knowing him at all.”

“What do you suggest, Your Grace?”

“I hardly know, Lavender. I only want for us to be happy together. I cannot make you happy if you’ve pledged yourself to a criminal. It would ruin you and your family. Your parents would surely not handle the news well.”

Lavender relaxed more into his arms. His reasoning was sound. She hated it, but it was logical. Her goal the entire Season had been to find someone that would put her father’s concerns for her future to rest before he died, not multiply them. But she’d been learning to prioritize her own needs. Perhaps her idea of running off to beg a duke to marry her didn’t line up with what she’d been learning. But she could have gone to Mr. Lanscombe, and she’d chosen better for herself. “Let’s talk at breakfast.”

Thomas kissed her cheek and led her up the stairs. “Which room is yours?”

Lavender felt mortification wash over her. “I’ll sleep in the library.”

“Is that where Mrs. Howard put you?” His voice sounded shocked.

She shook her head. “No, but she put me in your mother’s old room.”

The moment Thomas realized those implications came swiftly. “That’s far too tempting for me. I’ll sleep below stairs with Jack. He’ll keep me accountable for the night.”

“It’s your first night back in your home with a proper bed; I can’t ask that of you.”

He led her to the door of the duchess’s chamber. “You didn’t ask it of me. Besides, Jack and I need to talk. I promise you’ll be safe here.”

She believed him. Heaven help her heart be steady. “Thank you.”

“Thomas,” he searched her face. “Please call me Thomas.”

“Thank you, Thomas.”

The smile he gave her would be burned into her mind forever. “Goodnight, Lavender.” He kissed her temple and released her hand. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Lavender nodded. He stood there in the corridor until she’d shut herself in the bedchamber.

Chapter 40

Thomas tugged at his cravat. How did one precisely go about convincing a lady that they were indeed in love with you? Especially when you were living a very different life than that lady planned? What was it that made her love you? Was it your lack of fortune or the simpleness of your life? If so, Thomas was prepared to give his dukedom to Jack.

Thomas ran a hand down his freshly shaved face and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was wearing his old clothes again. They fit far better than the livery he’d been squeezing into for these past months. But he’d developed muscles he hadn’t had previously, so the clothing was still tighter than he expected it to be. It was only one of the happy consequences of manual labor. His eyes were clear, his brain unmuddled, and he had purpose to his future. Thomas Monteclare felt more confident as this version of himself than he ever had before.

He didn’t want to wait to propose to her. If her father died, that would mean a year of waiting. He’d do it, but it would be torture. Then there was the thought in the back of his mind that Lady Lavender wouldn’t want to marry him. Becoming a duchess was a far cry from the wallflower her parents had always intended for her. She was capable of filling the role, but she may not want to. His biggest concern, though, was that she wouldn’t want to marry him anymore because of all the lies that he’d allowed to remain between them these past months. There was nothing he could do to change that now.

If she could forgive him—and that was a big if— Thomas wanted her to marry him because she loved him, not because it was what anyone else expected of her.

He picked up the copy of The History of Little Goody Two-Shoes, tucked it under his arm, and made his way to the breakfast room. He filled a plate from the sideboard and sat at a table far finer than he had for a long time. The room was bright and the food excellent, but eating alone was . . . lonely. How had he never noticed before?

When Lady Lavender walked into the room, he stood up so quickly his chair clattered to the floor behind him. A footman righted the offending piece of furniture before Thomas had turned around. Not home for an entire day, and he was already useless. He grimaced at the thought. “I apologize for my . . .”

Lady Lavender laughed. “Are you certain you are the lost duke? Or could you by chance be a pretender?”

He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. The question was lighthearted enough, but he knew she really wanted to know the answer. “I assure you, Lady Lavender. I am Thomas Monteclare, Duke of Fenleigh.”

She walked up to him slowly, as if she were afraid he’d run off. She reached up and ran the back of her hand across his freshly shaved jaw. “You look different without a beard.”

“Is it a good different?” his voice came out raspy at her touch.

She shrugged. “I like both versions of you.”