Page 8 of Her Brooding Duke (The Worthington Legacy #7)

A t two o’clock in the afternoon, Trevor poured himself a drink. Still too early to drink spirits, he knew his nerves needed the company only port would provide. Especially since his brother Trey and their mutual friend Lord Hawthorne would be joining him shortly for a ride around the estate.

Trevor rolled his eyes. Somehow his brother had gotten it into his head that Trevor needed male companionship. What he needed was peace and serenity. More than that, he needed people to stop pitying him.

Gossipmongers still circulated stories about Gwen’s affairs. Trevor had heard people whispering when they thought he wasn’t there. Thankfully, though, there had been no gossip about the twins. He might doubt who sired them, but he didn’t need Society following him around to discover the answer.

“Excuse me, Your Grace.”

Trevor turned his attention to the door. Hobbs stood with a solemn expression—as always—and without a wrinkle in his uniform. “What it is, Hobbs? Have my guests arrived?”

“Yes, sir. They are waiting in the drawing room.”

“Splendid.” He swallowed the last of his drink, placed it on the liquor tray, and strode out of the room. Perhaps visiting with his brother and Hawthorne would lift his spirits…more than the alcohol.

When Trevor entered the drawing room, both Trey and Hawthorne stood waiting for him, dressed in their riding clothes. Trey chose darker colors while Hawthorne wore lighter. Trevor wanted to chuckle since the two men were usually so much alike in their tastes.

“Good afternoon, Trey. Hawthorne.” Trevor bowed to both men and they returned the greeting. “Are you ready to ride?”

“Indeed I am,” Hawthorne began, “but before we go, will you tell me who that charming creature is.” He pointed out the window. “I confess I do not usually converse much with servants, but she looks familiar.”

Trevor moved to the window that looked out over the flower garden. Louisa stood with Mrs. Fitzwilliam as they plucked dead leaves from the bushes. “That is my newest servant, Louisa.”

Trey rushed between them, peering out. “Is that the vagabond Mother told me about the other day?”

Leave it to Mother… Trevor wondered what part of don’t tell anyone his mother didn’t understand when they had discussed this subject. “I know not what she told you,” Trevor replied, “but she is the girl I nearly killed when my vehicle hit her.” He prayed Louisa wouldn’t turn toward the house and witness the three of them gawking like spectators watching a horse race.

Hawthorne shook his head while rubbing his chin. “I swear to you she looks familiar, but I cannot decide where I have seen her before.”

Trevor clapped his hand on Hawthorne’s shoulder. “I doubt she is who you think. By the way she was dressed that evening when I hit her, I can assure you she had probably made Seven Dials her home.”

“How utterly sad,” Hawthorne mumbled. “She does not have the appearance of one of those varmints. In fact, by the delicate way she moves and her tiny build, I would have assumed she was born of Quality.”

Trey chuckled. “Dominic, my good man, I know you are desperate to find a willing maid, but really, you need not look at my brother’s servants.” He motioned his hand toward the flower garden. “I’m quite certain you can find them anywhere.”

Trevor rolled his eyes. Trey would always think this way, even though he had a lovely wife at home. Thankfully, Judith kept Trey under her thumb—which was where Trey wanted to be anyhow. Unfortunately, Dominic Lawrence was still a confirmed bachelor.

“Gentlemen,” Trevor began, “I think we can forget this matter and begin our ride—”

“Is it true she lost her memory?” Hawthorne asked.

Silently, Trevor groaned. “Yes, it is. The girl has yet to remember anything. Not even the accident.”

“Amazing, don’t you agree?” Trey ran his fingers through his dark hair as he narrowed his gaze out the window. “I cannot fathom what it could possibly be for that girl not to remember anything.”

Trevor folded his arms. “Believe me, the girl cannot even remember her last name. My housekeeper had her help in the kitchen last evening, and Louisa messed up her duties terribly. I’m quite certain it was because she just could not remember her upbringing. The girl does not even know how to cook.”

Dominic grinned and tapped his finger on his bottom lip. “Gentlemen, we are forgetting one thing. Louisa is not a girl.”

Although Hawthorne ogled her like a sweetmeat, Trevor couldn’t stop gaping at the way the servant’s dress fit snug against her. Now that her hair had been wound into a bun, he could see more of her slender neck. He didn’t need to close his eyes to remember what she looked like standing in her nightdress with her hair long and flowing over her shoulders and down her back. Interest stirred inside him and he wished it hadn’t. In fact, it had been stirring inside him quite a bit lately, even at night in his dreams.

Blowing out an irritated breath, Trevor turned away from the window and walked toward the door. “Gentlemen, are you coming? I’m in the mood for a ride around the estate. I do not want to stand in front of a window all day ogling a servant girl.” When Hawthorne whipped an accusing scowl Trevor’s way, he retorted, “Forgive me. I mean woman. ”

Finally, Trey and Hawthorne pulled away from the window and followed Trevor outside. As he headed toward the stables, Dominic ventured toward the flower garden. Trevor groaned. What was wrong with that man? He couldn’t be that desperate for a wench.

As Trevor approached Lord Hawthorne, Dominic had just introduced himself to Louisa, and raised her hand to brush his lips across her knuckles. Inwardly, Trevor seethed. The rake. Was his friend seducing Trevor’s servant right here in front of everyone?

“And this is Lord Trey, His Grace’s younger brother,” Hawthorne finished introductions.

Louisa smiled and curtsied. Thankfully, Trey didn’t kiss the woman’s hand like Hawthorne did, or Trevor would have reprimanded his brother.

Trevor took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to calm his impatience. When Louisa’s gaze met his, her green eyes twinkled. Her eyes hadn’t done this when her attention had been on Hawthorne or Trey. Trevor wished she’d stop looking at him this way…and he wished his heart didn’t leap with excitement when she did.

He smiled. “Louisa, it does me good to see you out in the garden today.”

“Well, Your Grace, Mrs. Smythe thought I needed to be outside and enjoy the fresh air and sunshine, so she turned me over to the good graces of Mrs. Fitzwilliam and the gardener.”

He tilted his head, studying her complexion. “Mrs. Smythe is correct. You do need a bit more color to your face. I trust you are feeling better today?”

“Yes. Much better.”

Trey nudged him with his elbow. “Oh, Trevor, old boy, clearly you can see how well she looks. Her face is positively glowing.”

Her smile widened, making her amazing eyes glisten more.

“Splendid, now if you will excuse us Louisa—”

“Miss Louisa,” Hawthorne cut him off. “I must say, you do look a bit familiar to me. Have you ever been in Mayfair, by chance?”

Her cheeks turned pink. “I cannot say, my lord. Even though I’m recovered from my accident, my memory still has yet to return.” She stepped closer and hesitantly laid her finger on Hawthorne’s gloved hand. “But please, tell me if you know who I am. I feel so lost without my memory.”

“I fear, I cannot say whether I know you or not. You just look familiar.”

Frowning, she dropped her hand and stepped back.

“Come now, Hawthorne,” Trevor spoke up. “You have upset the woman. Let us adjourn on our ride and let her be.”

“Forgive me, Louisa.” Hawthorne smiled. “I hope your day improves.”

“I’m certain it will, my lord.”

As the men walked away, Trevor found himself sneaking a peek back at her. Sadness lurked in her expression, but when her gaze met his, she smiled. He gave her a polite nod and turned away, once again wishing she wouldn’t react in this manner. Yet, he nearly encouraged her behavior. Why couldn’t he stop?

The men mounted their saddled horses and began their ride. At first it was quiet, which gave Trevor a moment’s peace. He’d always enjoyed riding, and it didn’t matter if he had company or not. It surprised him that his visitors weren’t talking like loose-lipped women. Glancing back, Trevor studied their expressions. His younger brother appeared deep in thought, and poor Hawthorne…that man couldn’t stop looking back toward the house. Could the man really have met Louisa somewhere in Mayfair? Yet if the young woman were indeed of noble birth, wouldn’t her family be looking for her by now? And that certainly didn’t explain the scars on her back.

“Trey?” Trevor finally broke the silence. “How is that lovely wife of yours?”

His younger brother grinned wide. “Perfect, as always. She loves being a wife and mother.”

Trevor nodded. “Judith is certainly a gem. The best thing that ever happened to you, if I might say.”

“I agree,” Hawthorne chimed in. “I have never seen you happier.”

Trey chuckled. “And with our long-lost brother, Tristan, home again, life is definitely good.”

“Indeed, it is,” Trevor agreed. “I just wish Tristan would not stay cooped inside the house with Mother so much. If he’s not there, he’s wasting away in his London townhouse. He needs to get out and meet new people. And for sure, he needs to forget about Lady Hollingsworth.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Hawthorne’s voice grew loud. “Have you heard the startling news? Lord Hollingsworth died late last night. From what I have heard, the police do not know what to make of it.”

At the same time, Trevor and his brother pulled their horses to a stop. Hollingsworth was not a name either of them wanted to hear…especially the lord’s wife. She was the very reason Tristan had nearly lost his life.

Trevor scowled. “Dead, you say? Are you jesting, Hawthorne?”

Trey murmured a curse and shook his head.

Lord Hawthorne leaned forward on his horse and stroked the mane. “It was a shock, to be sure. Lady Hollingsworth found him passed out drunk in the stables that night. The man was not wearing a stitch of clothing. She was so disgusted with her husband, she left him there, but a few hours later the stable boy found his lordship dead.”

“What is this news going to do to Tristan?” Trey asked.

Trevor hardened his jaw, fearful to say anything at this moment. The Worthington family hated Lord Hollingsworth. All of them wished the man dead. But now… Indeed, what would this kind of news do to Tristan’s well-being?

Taking a deep breath, Trevor prayed his anger wouldn’t show. “I shall have a talk with him. Let us hope this news does nothing to our brother. I would think after two years Tristan has gotten over that fiasco and is well on his way to living a normal life again.”

Trey urged his horse into a walk, which the others did as well. “I would like to think Tristan is over that, but sometimes…” He shrugged. “Sometimes he grows quiet and I wonder if he does not still think about her.”

“Well, I pray he does not get any wild ideas now that she’s a widow.” Trevor adjusted himself in the saddle. “That woman broke his heart once, I would hate for her to have the chance to do it again.”

The other two men nodded. Trevor pushed his steed faster. He’d definitely take the time to talk to Tristan now. His brother’s head injury from two years ago had brought trauma on the family and Tristan took a long time to recover. Finally he seemed normal again, and Trevor couldn’t let anything disrupt his brother’s life. Especially now.

An hour later, the men stopped by a pond to rest their horses. Dominic and Trey had been chatting back and forth during the ride, but seldom did Trevor join in. Now the two seemed remarkably quiet. Trevor prayed the two would remain this way until they left the estate.

“I cannot stop thinking about Louisa,” Hawthorne broke the silence.

Silently, Trevor groaned.

“You know,” Trey said, “Mother was telling me she thought Louisa might be Lord and Lady Danvers’ daughter.”

Trevor shook his head and moved away from the pond, closer to his brother. “Trey, would Louisa really be their daughter? I would think by now her family would be missing her. Am I correct? Besides that, I do not think they have a daughter.”

Trey shrugged.

“Actually,” Hawthorne said, “I recall a conversation I had with Viscount Wellesley a few years ago. He mentioned having a younger cousin who drowned when she was twelve years old.” He met Trevor’s eyes. “How old do you suppose Louisa is? If I remember correctly, the drowning happened six years ago. That would make his cousin nineteen.”

“She does not look that age.” Trevor shook his head.

Trey scratched his chin. “Yet, in a way she does. There is something in her eyes that speaks of a hard life.”

“Are you saying Louisa could be the Danvers’ daughter and never drowned?” Trevor asked.

“That’s what I’m saying.” Trey nodded.

“Then why has she not been with her family all these years?” Hawthorne wondered.

Trey shrugged. “Perhaps she lost her memory all those years ago instead of when you hit her with the carriage?”

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Trevor rolled his eyes. “If that were the case, she would not have acted so distraught when realizing she did not have a memory.” He grumbled and turned to mount his horse. This was how gossip began, and he wouldn’t have any more of it. “Gentlemen, I grow weary of this discussion. I’m heading back to the manor with or without you.”