Page 84 of Lavender’s Lost Duke

“Me? A dangerous woman?” Lavender mused at the idea. “I believe for the first time, Lord Chilcott is correct. He has no idea who he is dealing with. But to claim I have needed a substance to accomplish my aims—that is utter ridiculousness.”

“Well said!” Miriam beamed. “I do believe you are tired of being overlooked.”

Lavender tilted her head. “I don’t feel overlooked by those who matter to me. I have no desire for the attention of the masses—I much prefer the company of my books. But I don’t intend to allow him or anyone else to give me permission to claim the future I desire.”

“What about your father?”

Lavender raised her chin. “He would want me to stand up for myself and claim happiness. Even if it took time.”

Even if that meant Lavender had to wait for Thomas to serve time in prison. For the first time, Lavender’s mind roamed to the idea that Thomas could be convicted as guilty of his charges. It made her physically ill, and she found she needed to sit.

What if their time in the carriage was the last time she saw him? The last time she felt truly seen by someone? The last time she felt his lips on hers? How would she move forward with her life?

“Miriam, do you think we could sneak into the meeting?”

A mischievous smile spread across the duchess’s cheeks. “Of course we can. I dare someone to try to stop us.”

The two of them walked purposefully through the doors, flanked by pillars at each side. Miriam carried herself with dignity and purpose, nodding graciously to the servants they passed without question until they came to a large door flanked by two footmen.

“We would like to watch the proceedings,” Miriam said with authority ringing through her voice.

The two men looked at each other with a question in their eyes. “I don’t suppose you have a ticket?”

“No, I do not.”

Lavender stepped forward. “The duchess surely is above needing a ticket to visit the Stranger’s Gallery.”

The two footmen bobbed their heads in unison. “Of course. Please follow me.”

They were led to a crowded space of onlookers watching the proceedings of the meeting. Lord Chilcott was standing, red in the face, pointing at Thomas. “. . . know it took some time, but I have evidence that he helped harbor French spies under the reign of Napoleon.” He held up a paper. “See for yourself.”

Someone ran to grab the paper and took it to the Lord Chancellor. The older man glanced over the paper and then held a second up beside it. A dangerous quiet prevailed enough to hear the rustling of the paper. He handed both sheets of paper to the gentleman sitting beside him and stood. “This is the second copy of this correspondence that has been handed to me lately. The only difference therein is in a few of the letters.”

The quiet in the room lasted a handful of seconds before all chaos broke loose. The members of parliament all began talking to their neighbors at once, but one word seemed to come up time and again, heard above the tin: forgery.

The Lord Chancellor called them all to order, and after a minute or two, they finally settled. “Lord Chilcott, I presume you have an explanation for all of this.”

Lavender’s stomach twisted as she watched the man who’d been trying to ruin her stand from his seat. “The letter I gave you was intercepted by Lord Fenleigh’s late steward. After reading it and realizing the danger the duke was putting our country in, I felt it my duty to bring the evidence forward. I only found it recently while going through my father’s journal tucked between the pages. My only intent was to bring to light evidence in order to keep our king and the Prince Regent safe.”

“And what of this other letter?”

Lord Chilcott shrugged his shoulders. “I have not seen it; I have no idea where it came from.”

The Lord Chancellor turned toward the opposite side of the room. “Lord Fenleigh, what do you have to say to this?” Many of the gentlemen looked similar with their white wigs atop their heads, but Thomas wasn’t wearing his. He stood tall and his broad shoulders pulled back in a dignified manner befitting his station.

How had Lavender been so convinced the man was a gardener these past months? He was built to be a leader.

Thomas cleared his throat and met the eyes of the peers in the room unflinchingly. “I can only say this: I heard the rumors about my person, and I was tired of the dramatic gossip being thrown about by Lord Chilcott. I decided to take myself off for a time while everything was sorted out. I went home to Kent and abstained from drinking and shaving for a week. It was more difficult task than I expected it to be.” He chuckled uncomfortably, and a handful of men laughed along with him. “But then, I came back here, to London, and found work disguised as a servant. I have been acting as a gardener for the Duke of Gilfordshire.”

“Outrageous!” someone called from down below.

Another man stood, and Lavender recognized him to be Samuel. “I do hope you are not calling me outrageous. I was not fooled by His Grace’s disguise for a minute. However, I did encourage the scheme. I told him if he lasted for two weeks in my employ, I would owe him a hat. Our first stop in the morning will be at the haberdashery.” He sat back down.

The room was filled with a pregnant pause. It seemed no one knew quite what to do. It would be madness to accuse not only one but two dukes of deceit, especially when Lord Gilfordshire could pull a host of witnesses of Thomas’s whereabouts these past months. Lavender felt her hands sweating beneath her long gloves. He’d done what she’d asked: he’d spoken the truth. She had to have faith that the peerage would see the folly of going forward with their accusations.

“Are there any remaining questions?” the Lord Chancellor asked the group.

Samuel stood once again. “Only one, My Lord: what is to be done about these falsified letters?”