Page 85 of Lavender’s Lost Duke

Lord Chilcott jumped to his feet, yelling, “I did not falsify them!”

The Lord Chancellor squinted at the letters then back at Chilcott. “But they are falsified, that much is clear. So the question is, who, Chilcott, is your accomplice?”

It seemed as if all eyes turned toward Lord Chilcott. For the first time in Lavender’s memory, the man was bereft of words. He sat, ashen faced, and stared at Lord Gilfordshire in shock.

“Who is your accomplice, Lord Chilcott?” the Lord Chancellor asked.

Lord Chilcott regained his head and looked indignantly up at the Lord Chancellor. “I did not write those letters!” he yelled.

“Oh, I believe that. But I don’t believe you are innocent in their occurrence. It would be too convenient for you to have the dukedom you are set to inherit become vacant if the current Lord Fenleigh were to be tried as guilty of treason,” he answered.

“It was Lady Lavender Gardner.” Lord Chilcott spat out. “She has had me under her thumb for the entirety of her time in London.”

Thomas jumped from his chair. “How dare you—”

Samuel put a hand on Thomas’s shoulder and pushed him back to his seat.

“Oh,” Lord Chilcott chuckled. “Did you believe her to be a harmless chit while you were waiting on her, Fenleigh? She is no such thing. The woman is quite convincing when she wants to be,” he sneered.

Samuel stood. “Pardon me, Lord Chilcott. Are you questioning the Duchess of Gilfordshire and myself as proper chaperones for Lady Lavender? I can assure you, that when we were in your home a few days ago, it was none other than Lord Fenleigh who snuck into your library and found this second forged letter amongst a stack of them.” He looked around the room until the information seemed to sink in for all those listening. “My mother and wife were there as well. Would you like for me to call them here to testify to what they saw? Or perhaps we ought to contact Miss Dalrymple, who was there as well.”

“Leave her out of this! You’ve been sneaking around my house!”

“Well, not me, but others have. They were concerned on a number of occasions about the way you’ve been manipulating Lady Lavender to make it seem as if she and you were courting. It was a form of protection. Finding this incriminating evidence was quite by happenstance.” Samuel sat down and crossed his legs as if the proceedings were boring.

Lavender could feel Thomas seething, but he took a lesson from his friend and leaned back in his seat. This was not at all what Lavender had guessed would occur. She didn’t know that Lord Chilcott intended to use her as his accomplice. Or had he intended it? Likely not, as he didn’t set out on this course with the intent to be caught. No, he was still protecting Miss Dalrymple. Perhaps the man did have a bone in his body capable of feeling.

The Lord Chancellor handed the two papers to a clerk who ran them over to another man. Lavender didn’t know what was happening, but she was not alone. It seemed no one was willing to risk missing what would happen by speaking to their neighbors. The only sounds in the room were the shifting of bodies. The man with the papers whispered something into the clerk’s ear. He strode back to the Lord Chancellor and relayed the message.

Nodding, the Lord Chancellor stood, and all eyes were directed to him. “If these allegations bear any weight, they ought to be laid properly at the feet of His Majesty’s Ministers. We will allow them to dictate our future course of action. As for now, Lord Fenleigh, Lord Chilcott, you may await their visits. As will Miss Dalrymple.”

Samuel stood once again. “My Lords, I move that we adjourn the meeting.”

Thomas raised his hand. “I second the motion.”

The Lord Chancellor nodded his head. “Meeting adjourned.”

Chapter 42

Thomas fairly leaped from his seat, knowing full well that everyone in attendance would be pressing him for more details of his disappearance. But the only person he wanted to speak with was Lady Lavender.

Samuel stood beside him and whispered in his ear. “She saw the whole debacle, Thomas. Don’t make her more uncomfortable by drawing attention to her presence here.” He looked up at the Stranger’s Gallery.

Trailing Samuel’s gaze, Thomas found Lady Lavender sitting above with a hand on her heart and a blank expression plastered on her face. He felt like she looked: confused, shocked, and a little worried about how things had played out. He wasn’t free of suspicion, not yet. But he felt that was only because the Privy Council needed time to do their work. He turned to Samuel. “Thank you for your help, and for keeping a level head. I almost started a bout of fisticuffs in the House of Lords, and although I don’t mind pushing the limits of what is socially acceptable, that one might not have looked good for my case.”

Laughter from Samuel and a few men standing nearby made Thomas smile. He looked back up to the Stranger’s Gallery, but Lady Lavender was gone. He hated it, but it was wise of her. He was duly accosted by a dozen men, all asking him questions at once. Resigned to dance to the tune of ducal expectations, he answered as many of them as he could while Samuel tried to slowly move them toward the exit.

It was late into the night when Thomas’s carriage drove up to his own townhouse. It had been so long since he’d been in residence, it didn’t feel like going home at all, familiar as it all was.

Samuel had promised him to watch over Lady Lavender until Thomas could come calling the next morning. His brain and body needed rest, and for the first time in months, he would be sleeping on a bed comfortable enough for a king.

Thomas tucked his mother’s wedding band into his waistcoat pocket and looked himself over in the mirror one final time. He looked like a man who knew what he wanted—for the first time in a long time, what he portrayed and what was true were one and the same.

The ride to the Gilfordshire townhouse was less than half a mile, but it seemed to take an age before Thomas found himself knocking on the front door. It was odd. This door felt unfamiliar; he hadn’t made the mistake of using it since he had been hired months ago. Andrews, the butler, opened the door and smiled. It was quite out of place to see the expression on the somber servant. “I’m here to call on Lady Lavender Gardner,” Thomas said.

Andrews opened the door wider and motioned for Thomas to wait in the drawing room. “I will see if she is at home.”

Lady Lavender ran down the stairs. “I’m home, Andrews. At least I’m home for Lord Fenleigh.” Her cheeks bloomed crimson, and she smiled up at Thomas.