Page 19 of Her Lion of a Duke (Dukes & Beasts #3)
Leonard did not want his cousin to stay in his home a minute longer than necessary.
In truth, he had not had very much to do in his study at all, but he did not want to face him so soon. He had not seen Renshaw since Henry’s passing, and it had not been a pleasant interaction. Renshaw did not seem to remember it, however, as he took his tea with a smile on his face.
“Your wife seems pleasant enough.”
“She is, indeed. I hope that you were polite to her.”
“Why would I be anything but? I am here as a guest, so I would only ever act accordingly.”
Leonard mumbled in agreement.
“I did not expect you to have a dog,” Renshaw continued. “I thought that you were above such things.”
“He is an excellent companion. He is not dangerous, though I can see why his presence might have frightened you.”
“Nothing frightens me, Cousin. I am above all of that. I simply do not like the mess that comes with mutts.”
“Aunt Caroline had one, did she not?”
“That was different. Mother knew how to control hers.”
“Did Brutus come into the room and only approach my wife?”
“Yes, with a note.”
“Good. That means he was under my control, and I did not even need to be in the room with him. There is no need for concern.”
Leonard did not have any intentions of arguing with his cousin. He planned, as Cecilia had, to have as pleasant a time with him as possible and then not speak with him for another extended length of time. He did not want to have any arguments, especially not when his wife was nearby.
“You have changed the manor, too,” Renshaw noted after a moment. “I did not expect that of you.”
“Cecilia and I decided that it was time for a change,” Leonard explained. “She did most of the work, and I gave my input when she asked. She has done a very good job, has she not?”
“Indeed, though it does not reflect the Pridefield name like before. Everything was always the same, and it grew to reflect all of us. This is different, however.”
“As it should be. This home belongs to my wife and me, and therefore it should reflect us. I do not want to live in a house that could belong to anyone.”
“I am not just anyone,” Renshaw pointed out. “I am family. I should also feel at home.”
There was that envy again, the very same that Leonard saw in him when they had last spoken.
He did not want to discuss their last argument, as there was no way to settle it, but he knew Renshaw. He knew that his cousin would not let it go.
“How have you been?” Renshaw asked. “I know that we have not spoken much since the death of your brother. My mother and I have thought of you often, but we did not think it was wise to write to you, given the circumstances.”
“Of course. Well, I will not pretend that losing my brother was easy, but I have made my peace with it. Becoming a duke so suddenly was daunting, but I like to think that I have settled into the role well. I now have a wife, a dog, and a beautiful home, and I am finding my way. I cannot ask for more than that.”
“And what about an heir? Will you have one soon?”
Leonard felt a chill run down his spine. “I do not want to discuss that with you, Renshaw.”
“Come now, Pridefield. You and I are not the same people we were all those years ago. We can be civil about this.”
“I will not be civil about what you said if you continue to remind me of it. I agreed to forget about it for a reason.”
“But you must be able to see things from my point of view. Leonard, do you not understand how I felt?”
“No, I do not. I had just lost my brother, Reginald. I was mourning him, and all you did was suggest that I abdicate. You were only interested in helping yourself, and I have not forgiven you for that. I do not need you to ask me if I will put another person in your way.”
“I would never think of a child that way.”
But Leonard knew that his cousin was doing precisely that. That was the reason for his visit. Renshaw wanted to know if there would be yet another person preventing him from inheriting the duchy.
“Renshaw, why are you here?” Leonard asked.
“I wished to congratulate you, of course.”
“No, you did not. You could have attended the wedding, if that were the case, or written to us, or visited us in London. You did not do any of those things; you only arrived at our country home. Why are you here?”
Renshaw chuckled darkly, rising from his seat and pacing the room for a moment.
“I had a rather interesting visit last week,” he began. “It was a gentleman that I did not recognize, but he seemed to have a great deal of interest in you. He wanted to know about the two of us and whether we ever had a big dispute.”
Leonard studied him, trying to determine whether his cousin knew about the investigation. He had instructed the private investigator to be discreet, but mistakes could happen. He hoped the man had not let it slip in front of Renshaw of all people.
After all, he was the person Leonard suspected most.
“We had that argument when Henry died,” Leonard gritted out. “Why was he there?”
“I do not know, but I was hoping that you might tell me. I do not need men knocking on my door and upsetting my mother. She thought that I had been involved in something most untoward. It was mortifying.”
“I can imagine. I do not know what happened, unfortunately. Nothing like that had happened either here or in London. What did the man want to know?”
“He asked if anyone had ever told me of an intention to harm you or Henry. I, of course, could not name anyone, for I never had any quarrels with the pair of you. I believe someone is trying to find the man who killed Henry.”
Leonard barely stopped himself from sighing in relief. Of course, that was what his cousin would assume.
Once again, Henry overshadowed him, but this time, he was grateful for it.
“That is fine by me. I assume that someone will come to speak with me, eventually, given that I have always been a suspect.”
Renshaw fell quiet. He sat across from him and leaned forward.
“I have never said this to you before,” he said quietly, “and I do not want to argue with you about it, but you should know that if you have done anything to him, I will understand.”
“Of course I did not! I would never have hurt Henry, and though many people are eager to assume the title of Duke, I never expected it. I certainly would never have taken it through such dastardly means.”
“No, I know. But if anything did happen, all I am saying is that I understand. It is not as though he was always kind to you. The ton remembers him as a pious gentleman, but you and I knew him better than that. He knew how to anger people when he wanted to.”
Despite everything, Leonard had to admit that his cousin was right. Henry argued with him the night he died, after all, and it was very likely that he did not save his nastier side for him.
“We had an argument,” Leonard confessed, “but I had nothing to do with his death.”
“I do not even think he died. I have always thought that he decided to engage in a duel and won, so he had to flee the country.”
“I like to imagine that, too. I picture him in France, spending his time in the sun with a string of ladies at his feet.”
“It is what any man would want, is it not?”
Leonard nodded in agreement.
He heard a shuffle and turned to find Cecilia standing in the doorway. He expected her to be upset with what he had said—he had not meant it at all—but she was smiling.
“When I find a string of ladies who will take a liking to either of you,” she teased, “I will tell you.”
She joined them, sitting beside him. Time away from Renshaw seemed to have been exactly what she needed, for she looked relaxed and happy in a way that she had not been earlier.
“Your room is ready, Lord Renshaw,” she announced.
“If it is not too much trouble, I would like to be shown there now. I will need to dress for dinner soon.”
Cecilia nodded, and a footman was summoned to take him away. When he was out of earshot, she sighed, tilting her head back and looking up at the ceiling.
“You have done very well thus far,” Leonard praised, in an attempt to soothe her.
“He is not so bad,” she mumbled, closing her eyes. “I have dealt with meaner, drunker, and certainly bigger men.”
Leonard chuckled.
It was true that Renshaw had always looked different from the rest of them, and it had doubtlessly been difficult for him. He was surrounded by large men who were naturally intimidating, and he could never quite seem to catch up to them.
“Let him have a drink, and we will see what you think then,” Leonard joked.
“I shall replace his brandy with colored lemonade. We could also tell him that we have none left, if that could help?”
“Sadly, he knows the manor. He knows how much brandy is kept in the cellar.”
Cecilia groaned softly, but she was still smiling. “I know that I have always told you that I like a challenge, but is all of this necessary? We could have invited your friends, or even your lovely aunt, whom I have heard so much about.”
“Aunt Caroline is a lovely lady, but she has always thought too highly of my cousin. She thinks he is worthy of Royalty, even though he is not the most intelligent, wealthy, or attractive man.”
“All the same, I hope that one day, he finds a wife who can challenge him. He will certainly not find that in a debutante.”
Cecilia opened her eyes and turned to look at him.
Leonard would have been lying if he said that she had never challenged him. She was tempestuous, the sort of lady who knew what she wanted and was determined to have it, but she was also sweet and kind.
She was a lady, and a woman, and Leonard had never appreciated the distinction between those two words until he had met her.
“Some boys turn into men when they are too young,” he sighed. “Some when they are twenty, and some never at all. My cousin is the latter, and I do not see that changing. Regardless, I do not doubt that he will find his way, even if it means his family line will die with him.”
“As for ours?” she asked.
“It depends on what you choose. I truly do not care.”
She smiled softly, and he could see the gratitude in her eyes.
He recognized her apprehension; since her friends had become wives and mothers, they lost themselves at times.
She did not want that for herself, and if he were being honest, he did not want it either.
He liked how they were, and if that was how they would always be, then he was not going to be upset about it.
Even so, the thought of a smaller version of her running around the manor stirred a deep longing in his chest.
“We should also dress for dinner,” he said gently, standing up and pulling her to her feet. “I dread to think what Renshaw will say if he finds himself alone in the dining room.”
Once in his bedroom, Leonard knew that it was only a matter of time before Henry would appear.
As predicted, his brother appeared just as he finished dressing.
“Can you not tell him to leave?” he asked, gesturing wildly. “I hate him.”
“You do not hate him. He always preferred you.”
“That does not mean I do not hate him. He has always been awful. If you think I speak badly about ladies, you would fall to the floor after hearing him!”
“Be that as it may, he is staying here for a few days, and then he will leave. This way, we can be rid of him for years. Is that not better?”
“If he is good to your wife, I suppose, but you have to admit that something seems off. He would never have made such a journey just to congratulate you.”
“No, but he would if it meant asking me about your disappearance, which I would also very much like to know more about, for what it is worth.”
“I have already told you, Leonard,” Henry sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I cannot tell you anything that you do not already know. I am only here because you need someone to talk to.”
“That is not true. I have Cecilia.”
“Then talk to her about it. You do not need to imagine me forever.”
“I do not plan to. Believe me, if I could be rid of you right now, I would be.”
“Then do it,” Henry taunted. “Blink twice and make me disappear. If it is as simple as speaking to your wife, then you can be rid of me easily.”
Leonard tried, but of course, it was no use.
He had never been able to stop the madness building inside him. From the day he learned of his brother’s disappearance, Henry had haunted him. Leonard wished that he were a ghost, as that was a better explanation than him needing to be thrown in Bedlam.
“I do not have time for this,” he huffed. “I have to go downstairs for dinner.”
“Enjoy it, Brother,” Henry drawled, but Leonard was already leaving the room.