Page 11 of Her Lion of a Duke (Dukes & Beasts #3)

“She did not seem very receptive to that.”

Since their marriage, Henry’s appearances in his study grew more frequent. On more than one occasion, Leonard stood at his window and considered throwing it open and leaping out, but he managed to restrain himself.

“Do you not have anything better to do?” he grumbled.

Henry laughed. “Seeing my brother is the most effective use of my time. It is not as though I have anything else to do.”

“Yes, well, you are inhibiting the effectiveness of the use of my time. I cannot think when you are here.”

“That is not my fault, nor my problem to fix.”

He slumped lazily over Leonard’s chair, grinning.

Leonard looked at his door, knowing that if he stepped out into the hallway, his brother would leave. But that morning, he did not mind his presence so much.

If anything, he needed his advice.

“Do you think I did the right thing the other evening?” he asked.

Henry shrugged. “Were you honest with her? That is the most important thing. Then again, you could lie to her if it would make her feel better.”

“I cannot do that. I will not have a marriage founded on lies.”

“Then you did what was right. You should not have to ask me about that.”

“I know, but it is difficult to know what is happening to me, especially when I cannot even control your appearances.”

“It is not as though I want to be here. I am only here because you are thinking of me, Leonard. You can get rid of me as easily as you create me.”

Leonard sighed, leaving the study. As expected, Henry did not follow him.

He had wondered many times what had been causing the visits, but it was not as though he could ask anyone about it. He would have been sent to an asylum for it, so he kept it to himself.

London did not need a mad duke.

He wondered if he was imagining Henry because he needed to ask someone what to do, but he was also aware that he was answering his own questions, negating the purpose.

“Are you all right?”

He turned to find Cecilia looking up at him with concern. “Yes, of course. I was simply thinking about the picnic this afternoon.”

“Are you reconsidering our attendance? I do not believe that the Viscount will be too pleased with that.”

“No, we shall attend, but I have been thinking about what you said. I did not lie to those ladies; you have done wonders for our home, but I cannot help but feel guilty that I did not tell them to stop.”

“And what might that have achieved?” She shrugged. “Believe me, I am accustomed to whispers and gossip. Do not think less of me, but I have partaken in it myself. It can be cruel, terribly so, but I shall not pretend that it affects me so much.”

Leonard looked at his wife, wondering how much of what she was telling him was the truth and how much of it was a lie to make him feel better about his choices.

Even so, he did not argue with her. They continued with their day as always, and then left for the picnic.

Leonard had hoped that Cecilia would wear another deep red gown, but she wore a pale blue one instead. It was, he decided, most like her and was therefore his favorite, even if the other had been a pleasant change.

Upon their arrival, he felt eyes on them. He maintained his smile, as did Cecilia, and they exchanged greetings before taking their seats. It was a beautiful picnic, and this time, there were at least more diverse people present.

Cecilia seemed to recognize a few ladies and spoke to them with relative ease. Leonard was happy for her, but that presented an entirely different issue.

He would also have to find someone to talk to.

“Pridefield,” a gentleman standing in a group nearby called, “join us!”

Leonard knew them well enough. He would not have called any of them friends, but acquaintances was fitting enough. They were not unkind men, and that was enough for him.

“I do not believe that we have congratulated you,” the gentleman, Lord Lumley, continued. “The only gentleman in England who could tame her spirit.”

They all laughed, Leonard included.

“I have little interest in taming her,” he explained. “She is wonderful as she is, and I would hate for her to be any different.”

“A good husband,” another gentleman praised. “My wife would envy yours greatly!”

At that moment, one of the ladies talking to Cecilia turned and smiled at him. Leonard assumed that was the wife in question.

“Is that to say that you tamed your wife?”

“It is not as though I had a choice. She was not yet twenty when I married her, and her behavior reflected that. I expected far more maturity.”

“Then perhaps it may have been wiser to marry an older lady?” Leonard suggested.

But the gentleman only laughed. “She was a pretty thing, with good breeding and many talents. I could, in all honesty, have overlooked her flaws. Then again, we dukes deserve more than that, do we not?”

This time, Leonard did not laugh. He did not like what he was hearing, and he wondered how many times he had heard such things without giving them any thought.

“Do not look so serious, Pridefield,” Lord Lumley drawled. “You are still in the early days of your marriage. You will see what we mean soon enough.”

“Should that be the case, I will inform you as such,” Leonard said firmly. “Until then, do not expect me to speak ill of my wife.”

At that moment, the ladies’ voices rose, and the men turned to them. They were not speaking loud enough to attract too much attention, but enough to be heard by those who cared to listen.

“I say, Your Grace,” one said to Cecilia, “I have no need for your instruction, but I know of a few ladies who do. How did you do it?”

“I do not know what you are referring to,” Cecilia replied.

“Of course, you do. We are all wondering how you secured such a match. It was not at all expected, given how much you hate the very notion of love.”

“I have never hated it. I simply did not expect it for myself. That is all.”

“And why is that? Well, I suppose it is because of who you are. Is it true that you are descended from witches?”

The ladies burst into laughter. Some sounded more nervous than others, but they all laughed regardless, except for Cecilia.

Leonard watched as she maintained her composure, and he felt both sympathy and pride for how she was handling matters. Even so, the sight of it made him furious.

“How on earth could I be?” Cecilia asked.

“I do not know, but I would love to know what spell you cast over him to make him fall for you. We all must marry, eventually, but dukes tend to prefer a certain caliber, and you…”

Leonard turned to the gentleman, who was pale as he listened to them.

“If you are going to insist on taming one’s wife,” he said coldly, “you ought to tame yours properly.”

The gentleman hurried to the ladies, took his wife’s arm, and pulled her aside.

A strange feeling settled over the picnic, and while Leonard pitied the hosts, he knew that he had done the right thing. He would not stand by and allow anyone to speak to his wife in such a manner, whether she was willing to let it happen or not.

After a moment, the couple pulled apart, and the gentleman returned to the group. Nobody spoke to him for a moment, and then he cleared his throat.

“She will not say anything further,” he said. “My apologies, Your Grace.”

“Ensure that is the case. I will not hear such things again.”

Unfortunately, it was not that simple. Mere minutes later, another lady began gossiping. Whispers of whether or not Cecilia had trapped Leonard into marriage, and that their match was born of scandal rather than any real emotion.

It was the third time that it had happened in front of him, and despite what his wife had told him, he could no longer control himself.

He abandoned the group and marched toward those ladues.

He watched as they paled, seeming almost afraid of him, and he faltered momentarily before taking Cecilia’s arm.

“You will not speak of my wife that way again,” he thundered, “unless you would all like to explain to your husbands why I have no intention of supporting their bills in Parliament.”

They all clammed up immediately. Leonard had assumed, correctly, that their husbands were politicians, and the threat alone was enough.

In truth, he never would have supported a bill simply because of who presented it, but they did not need to know that. All they needed to know was that he was a powerful man, and by angering him, they risked angering their husbands, too.

They walked away, arm in arm, and returned to their spot.

“You did not need to do that,” Cecilia said, smiling. “I was more than capable of telling them that—”

“I did not do it because I think you are incapable. I did it because I wanted to. I meant what I said, Cecilia. Nobody will speak about you that way again.”

Her eyes widened. A gentle blush crept up her cheeks, and he softened at the sight of it.

“If you wish to leave, we can do so now,” he offered. “We need not stay where you do not feel welcome.”

“And let them feel as though they have won? I would never do that. No, we shall stay, and we shall enjoy ourselves. I will never do anything to cause a scene, not anymore.”

She settled in her place pointedly, taking a slice of cake and eating it. Leonard smiled, joining her.

After a while, the gentlemen joined them, and their conversation flowed easily, as though nothing had happened at all.

“Will you be hosting soon?” Lord Lumley asked.

Cecilia nodded once. “I believe so, before the year is through. I believe a ball would be ideal, though I am not against a longer event.”

“You certainly have that in common,” a gentleman noted.

Cecilia laughed warmly. “We have an awful lot in common,” she explained.

“We have been friends for years. That is what many people misunderstand about us. It is not as though we were strangers when we got married; it was quite the opposite. I do not know very many people who know me better than my husband.”

The gentlemen liked Cecilia, Leonard could tell. They spoke to her as though she had been a long-time friend too. Leonard hoped that, when they attended future events, she would stay by his side and speak with gentlemen rather than her fellow ladies.

It was not that he did not trust her to respond appropriately when she was inevitably faced with more scorn, but because he did not want her to feel the need to.

He wanted to remain beside her, to protect her at any cost. That was what he had promised to do on their wedding day, and he had every intention of keeping his word.

They stayed at the picnic until the evening, when he could see her growing tired. When they climbed into the carriage, she slumped against him, her head on his shoulder, and mumbled quietly, “I enjoyed today.”

“As did I.”

“Does that mean we shall attend more events?”

“Perhaps.”

She hummed softly, as though she were falling asleep. “That is good, because I would like to do more than merely keep up appearances. I would like for both of us to truly enjoy what we have.”

Leonard did not tell her, but he wanted more than anything to enjoy life again, especially after everything that had happened.

Everything had changed, and yet nothing had. He was still Leonard, and she was still Cecilia, but there was no denying that when he looked at her, he saw someone entirely different.

He saw someone he needed to care for. Someone it would be a privilege to protect.