Page 18 of Her Lion of a Duke (Dukes & Beasts #3)

Cecilia did not know what to make of Lord Renshaw.

She knew the sort of gentleman to expect; someone who would find fault in anything that she said if it meant making himself sound more intelligent. She had been given plenty of warnings from Leonard, and she was more than happy to take him at his word, which struck her as rather odd.

Once, she would have loved to confront such a person.

She enjoyed engaging in conversation that could easily lead to a confrontation and doing what was necessary to come incredibly close to it, but not pushing it too far.

She had it down to a fine art, and yet she did not want to do it during his visit.

Perhaps it was because the man sitting across from her was not who she had been expecting to see.

Lord Renshaw was a short man, red-haired and slim. His eyes were small and dark, and he seemed like he had no choice but to be quick to anger, as it was the only way she expected others would listen to him.

Part of her pitied him, because one might have expected him to have similar features to the Kingsmans, but there was no trace of them.

“You are an interesting choice of wife,” he commented as she poured him some tea. “I did not expect you.”

Cecilia held back from saying that she felt much the same.

“Oh?” she asked. “What were you expecting instead?”

“Someone smaller,” he began, eyeing her carefully. “Darker hair and dark eyes. Certainly not someone who wears ribbons. They are rather girlish, do you not think?”

Cecilia had tied her hair with a matching ribbon to boost her confidence, but at that moment, she knew that it was a mistake.

She was trying to do everything in her power to prevent Lord Renshaw from finding anything to say, but with one slight error, she had inadvertently opened herself up to his criticism.

“I rather like my ribbons,” she declared. “My husband does, too. He says that they match my hair.”

“Yes, well, that has always been my cousin. I must admit, though, that I expected him to marry someone… far younger.”

“And you find ribbons childish? It is not as if I am a maid, My Lord.”

“No, but you are hardly a pretty little debutante. The Pridefields have always had expectations, and I cannot say that you match them. It is not a bad thing, Your Grace, and I hope you have not taken any offense.”

“Not at all,” she said through gritted teeth.

It would have been easy to insult him, to point out all of his failings and tell him to remember them each time he wished to find fault in others.

It was not a difficult task to compare Lord Renshaw with Leonard and see all their differences, and what made Leonard a real man and his cousin a cheap imitation, but she had made a deal. She would be cordial, and she would not rise to Lord Renshaw’s bait, no matter how badly she wanted to.

“My, these are wonderful,” he mumbled, chewing on a biscuit. “Dry, though. Could you tell your cook?”

“If you like.”

“Agreeable, aren’t you? That is not what I have heard about you. Then again, marriage changes people.”

“Gossip is hardly ever proven to be true.”

“No, of course not, but it is difficult to refute what is so brazenly done in front of others, Your Grace. You hated the idea of marriage, yes?”

“I was opposed to it, indeed. I would not say that was a failing of my own, though. It said little about me and everything about the caliber of gentlemen suggested to me. I was never going to marry a man simply because I had no other choice. Because I had many choices.”

“And you wanted the best,” he concluded. “That is why you chose my cousin.”

“Indeed. He is a good man and a wonderful duke.”

“Not a patch on his brother, nor his father, but he will do.”

There it was, the words needed to stir her anger. She knew of Leonard’s struggle to match up to his predecessors and his difficulty in seeing himself as worthy. He did not need some scrap of a man coming into his home and making such comments when he could pass by and overhear them at any moment.

“He is a wonderful duke,” she insisted. “The villagers love him, and the ton finds him delightful.”

“I do not doubt that, but family knows one another far better than Society ever could.”

“And given what you know about him, do you think that you would have been better in his position?”

“That is what my mother always said,” Lord Renshaw admitted. “And, were it not for His Grace, I would have inherited the duchy. It is a funny thing, is it not, that such things can happen?”

Cecilia mumbled in the affirmative, but she looked at the mouse-like man in front of her and wondered just how deluded his mother was.

He would not have been respected, nor looked upon with favor at all.

Cecilia only knew of him because he was her husband’s cousin, and she was certain that none of her friends would remember his name if they saw him.

“You would love my mother,” he continued. “She was going to accompany me, but I told her that I would prefer to meet you myself, rather than have the two of you discuss embroidery and decorations and flowers.”

“Is that what you believe ladies discuss? It may just be what your wife is passionate about, after all.”

“Ah, I appreciate that you expect a man like me to have a wife, but I have yet to find one. My mother claims that there will never be a debutante worthy of me, for I am too intelligent for them. They do not have the experience I require.”

That was no surprise to her. It was easy enough to believe that there had not been a lady desperate enough for a husband that she would willingly marry a man nearing his forties, but Cecilia liked to think that once, many years ago, he might have been able to find one.

“Perhaps you should marry someone older, if intelligence and maturity are what you seek?”

“Heavens, no!” He chortled. “I understand that my dear cousin is willing to defy expectations and choose a spinster, but I have no such intentions. I will have a blushing bride and nothing less.”

Lord Renshaw was a villain, and Cecilia could feel her patience wearing thin. She wished that his wonderful mother had indeed accompanied him, so that she could have excused herself and left them to talk about how wonderful he was, but she was stuck with him until Leonard finished his work.

“That is nothing against you, though,” Lord Renshaw added. “My cousin may not have the highest standards, but he has done well for himself regardless.”

“You know him well, then?”

“As well as most cousins know one another, yes.”

Cecilia sat in her newly decorated drawing room and wondered if her relationship with Clara was not the norm, for it was not possible that Leonard had the same relationship with Lord Renshaw. If the two gentlemen’s relationship was to be expected, Cecilia was pleased to be the exception.

At that moment, Brutus entered the room. He wagged his tail happily as he bounded to Cecilia, a note attached to his collar.

“Hello, boy.” She smiled, taking the note from him. “Is this for me?”

But Brutus proceeded to turn toward Lord Renshaw and growl at him, causing the man to push himself against the back of his seat in an attempt to get away.

“Nasty thing,” he grumbled. “Is he untrained?”

“On the contrary, he is perfectly behaved. But he is not accustomed to strangers, I suppose.”

What Cecilia truly thought was that the dog was an excellent judge of character, but she would not say that. She unfolded the note and read it quickly. It was from Leonard, explaining that he would be joining them soon, and to be patient. She smiled at it and folded it neatly.

“Is it from His Grace?” Lord Renshaw asked.

“Yes. He wished to tell me that he will be with us shortly.”

“One might expect him to send a maid, rather than a mutt.”

“Brutus is a purebred, actually,” she said absentmindedly.

“In terms of his lineage, perhaps, but that does not mean he acts like one. My mother had a dog years ago, and it was perfect. She never made a sound, and I hardly knew she was there most of the time.”

Cecilia fought the urge to roll her eyes. His mother was perfect; he had made that clear. Everything Cecilia did would never measure up to her.

What Lord Renshaw did not seem to understand was that she did not want to be like his mother. She had very little interest in being anyone other than herself, especially if the other option was to be the mother of someone so self-conceited.

“I think that dogs are taught respect,” she replied. “They know who to show it to and who not to. He does not know you, and he is guarding his owner. That is all.”

“Then you should teach him. Tell him that I am someone to respect.”

“I could.” She nodded once. “But I do not know if he would understand me. He is a dog, after all.”

Lord Renshaw’s cheeks reddened, and she bit her lower lip to hold back a laugh. It had been too tempting to mock him, especially when he had taken the liberty to make so many unnecessary comments about her, but she could not make him angry.

“Does he know how to go back to Leonard, at least?” he asked.

“Of course, he does,” she replied, patting Brutus’s head. “Go on, find the study!”

Brutus left happily, bounding out of the room.

Cecilia shook her head at him with a smile. He meant well, but he was larger than he seemed to think, which led to him being rather clumsy.

“Horrid things. I will never have one.”

“Do you live alone, then?”

“It is my mother and me. She wants me to find a wife, but of course, that means I have to find a lady who is happy for my mother to continue living with us. I will not have her turned away, that is for certain.”

“That is admirable of you, though surely your mother would like you to start a family of your own?”

“I know what she wants, but I also know what she needs. She needs her son, so she will stay with me.”

Cecilia could have made any number of assumptions about their relationship; they both needed one another far more than any mother and son should, as they were dependent on each other, and they needed to be apart more than anything if they were ever going to be their own persons. But she kept her thoughts to herself.

Mercifully, it was then that Leonard entered the room. He crossed to her in long strides and sat beside her with a smile. Moments later, a maid came in carrying another tea tray. Leonard thanked her and took a biscuit.

“How was work today?” Cecilia asked.

“Not difficult, but there were many things I had to do,” he replied, taking a bite. “My, these are good. Cook has done them just as I like them.”

“I found them dry,” Lord Renshaw commented.

“Yes, well, you have never been easily pleased.”

Cecilia stifled a laugh.

“I was just asking your cousin how well you know one another,” she explained, opting not to mention his thoughts on Brutus.

“Yes,” Leonard replied. “He and I knew one another well when we were younger, though he spent more time with Henry.”

“You followed us often. We would go on adventures as boys, and you accompanied us happily.”

“Carrying your bags,” Leonard pointed out.

Cecilia could see what he meant. There was no warmth in his eyes as he recalled the past. Lord Renshaw was no exception to the people who overlooked him in favor of his brother.

“When you have a child, you will understand.” Lord Renshaw laughed. “It is good for boys to help at a young age; it builds their strength and character. That is why I was so hard on you and Henry. You were like sons to me.”

“Did you do it too, then?” Cecilia asked, making Leonard chuckle.

“When I was the youngest, yes. Believe me, when you have a son of your own, you will know the feeling. It brings a sense of pride to know that you have someone so small and yet so strong in front of you.”

“I am not small anymore,” Leonard reminded him.

Cecilia tried not to stare at his broad shoulders in front of the company.

“I accept your gratitude for that.” Lord Renshaw lifted his chin. “Now, as for that dog, he will not be approaching my bedchambers, will he?”

Leonard and Cecilia exchanged a quick glance.

“Are you staying with us?” Leonard asked. “I thought you would only stay the afternoon.”

“I was going to, but you should have known that such a long journey would be tiring and planned for me to stay a while. I am not intruding, am I?”

“Of course not,” Cecilia replied dutifully. “I shall speak with the housekeeper, so that we can have a room prepared for you. Did you bring your bags?”

“They are in my carriage. See to it that nothing is damaged, for it is all of very high quality.”

“Then it will be difficult to damage anything,” Cecilia said, grateful for the opportunity to leave.

The moment she left the room, her smile turned into a sneer.

She did not like the man at all, and she was most unhappy to know that she would have to spend more time with him. It was tempting to leave him to Leonard to be entertained for the duration of his stay, but she did not think that was fair, not when Leonard had done nothing to warrant it.

“Are you all right, Your Grace?” Mrs. Herrington asked when she found her. “You do not look happy.”

“Everything is fine,” Cecilia replied, softening. “Lord Renshaw will be staying for a while, so we need to prepare a room for him.”

“Ah, that is why you look so unhappy. He was never a nice man, always envious of His Grace.”

Cecilia was not surprised to hear that at all.