Page 24 of Her Lion of a Duke (Dukes & Beasts #3)

Cecilia felt so guilty when she woke up that it was almost suffocating.

She had planned to tell Leonard everything the night before.

She was going to swallow her fear and tell him the truth about Felix Gray, but before she could do so, he had told her about his visions.

When he asked her to go to his study, she expected him to tell her that he knew the truth, that he hated her and wanted her to leave.

What she had not expected was for him to reveal what had been happening to him for years. She was, of course, completely taken aback by what she had heard. It was bizarre, but that was not what was important. What mattered was that her husband needed her, and so she was there.

It was also a convenient way to keep the truth from him for a short while longer.

“I am going to visit Beatrice,” she announced at breakfast. “I must speak with her about the Season, as it is coming to an end, and she still has no suitors.”

“And it has nothing to do with what we discussed last night?”

She let out a soft sigh. “Not at all. I would have asked you to accompany me, but it is not a conversation that Beatrice would like you to hear. She is staying at her family home for a few days, and it is only a short carriage ride away. I will be back by dinner.”

Leonard nodded, and that was that.

While it was true that Beatrice had yet to attract any suitors, that was not why Cecilia was going to see her. Beatrice did not even know that she would be arriving within the hour, but Cecilia could not wait any longer.

“Cecilia?” Beatrice asked upon seeing her in the drawing room. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to see you,” Cecilia said quickly. “I know you might be busy, but it is urgent.”

“I always have time for you,” Beatrice assured, taking a seat beside her. “Shall I send for tea?”

“You can, but I will not be able to eat anything. Oh, Bea, I have been such a fool.”

Cecilia leaned forward, dropping her head in her hands. Beatrice started, but then placed a tentative hand on her shoulder, which Cecilia was grateful for.

“Whatever it is, it is better for you to talk about it. I am pleased that you are here.”

Cecilia tilted her head back and focused on the intricate carvings in the ceiling while she composed herself.

“Suppose that you made a mistake,” she began, her eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “It was a terrible mistake, the worst of your life, and there is nothing you can do to change it. Also, suppose that you made it years ago, and you have changed ever since. What would you do?”

“Are you talking about yourself?”

Cecilia gave her a look, and Beatrice winced, nodding for her to continue.

“Say, for example, that others will soon find out what you did, and there is nothing you can do or say to make it better. If that were you, would you tell the truth?”

Beatrice was quiet for a moment, and then she sent for some tea. The silence stretched between them.

Cecilia wondered just what her friend was thinking. Beatrice was underestimated by most, as they thought she was a shy, plump young lady who did not know how to speak for herself. But Cecilia knew better.

Beatrice would be sterner with her than anyone else she knew, besides Leonard.

When the tea arrived, Beatrice poured two cups and handed one to Cecilia pointedly.

Cecilia took a sip reluctantly.

“Does this mean that you are finally going to tell me the truth?” Beatrice asked.

“I have no choice.”

“You are Felix Gray, aren’t you?”

Cecilia could admit it out loud, so she nodded.

“You wrote the essay about murdering for inheritance,” Beatrice continued, her eyes widening. “Your husband!”

“I know,” Cecilia groaned. “He has a private investigator searching for Felix Gray because of the rumors the essays triggered, and all this time, it has been me. I need to tell him, I know, but every time I try to, something happens. He thinks it is his cousin, Lord Renshaw.”

“And why can’t you let him continue believing that?”

Cecilia frowned at her. “You know perfectly well that I cannot do that. I may not like his cousin, but that does not mean he deserves scorn for something I did. I did this, and only I will bear the consequences.”

“Good.” Beatrice smiled softly. “I am pleased that you are at least thinking soundly in that respect.”

“I have never once thought about letting the blame fall on someone else. I should have known better than to say such awful things, but I was angry and spiteful, and now…”

“Now, you cannot undo it. I understand. Cecilia, we have all done things that we are not proud of, but that does not mean that we cannot change.”

At last, Cecilia looked at her friend square in the eye. Beatrice had grown thinner, yet she was still shapely, and her hair was done in a more fashionable way than it had been before.

“Beatrice, what on earth are you doing?”

“It is nothing,” she replied. “I simply… Well, I do not want to be a wallflower forever. I am running out of time, and if I do not make an effort soon, I will be on the shelf and completely alone.”

“That is not—”

Cecilia wanted to tell her that she was wrong, but it was the truth. Beatrice had always been afraid to try, and Cecilia had wanted her to change since they met. But now that the changes were happening, she did not like them. She wanted her friend to be herself again.

“My mother says it is for the best,” Beatrice continued. “When she saw the attention your cousin received immediately, she told me that it was time to be more like the other young ladies. When I saw Lady Clara, I could hardly disagree.”

“What my cousin is doing does not matter! Beatrice, if you are going to fall in love, he will have to love you for who you truly are, not this poised and perfect thing you’re trying to be.”

Beatrice sat back triumphantly, her arms folded.

“If you truly believe that,” she said firmly, “you will have no issues telling your husband the truth about who you truly are. After all, if he is going to love you…”

“That is different. We will not love one another, as that is not why we got married.”

“Cecilia, any fool can see that you are in love with him. I could see the beginning of it when we visited, and now it is on full display. If you did not care so deeply for him, you would not be so distraught for hurting him.”

“I can still have decency and respect,” Cecilia argued, but there was no use denying it.

She sighed, taking another sip of her tea.

“I was going to bake today,” Beatrice admitted. “The thing is, I am on a diet, so I cannot eat any of it. Perhaps you might like to help me? Then, you can take what we make back to your husband. It may not make everything right, but some sweetness always helps.”

Cecilia nodded, and they finished their tea before leaving for the kitchens.

Jennings House boasted one of the best kitchens Cecilia had ever seen.

There was a large hearth that was perfect for cooking, and a wide assortment of earthenware and mixing utensils.

However, her favorite part was the display of copper pans.

They were of different shapes and sizes, and they were polished to a shine.

“You should find some for your own kitchen,” Beatrice suggested. “You always look at them when I bring you down here.”

“I can see why you spend so much time in here.”

“Of course you can. It is spacious, the air is cool, and there is no mother telling me to inhale deeply.”

Cecilia cringed slightly, but she tried to hide it.

Beatrice grabbed the ingredients and utensils, and Cecilia helped to weigh everything. Every so often, Beatrice would tut and take over, and Cecilia would step back and watch.

Before she knew it, there was a cake baking, and the kitchen smelled like sugar.

“You did not have to do this with me, you know.” Cecilia smiled.

“I know, but you needed a distraction. Nothing clears your mind quite like the smell of cake, does it?”

“Is that why you bake so often?”

“One of many reasons, but you know perfectly well that this is not about me. What are you going to do?”

Cecilia plopped down on a bench, taking deep breaths. She did not want to think about what would happen when she returned home. She only wanted to see her husband, have dinner with him, and then talk like they always did.

That could not happen, however, and the fault was entirely her own.

“I am going to tell him the truth,” she sighed. “There is nothing more that can be done now. If he understands, then that would be wonderful. If not, then I will have to accept it.”

“He will understand,” Beatrice reassured her.

“He is a good man. He has to be, if you can stand the sight of him. Besides, the two of you are married, and he knows that you are a good person. If your words were taken out of context, then he will be able to see that. It is not as though you are known for being unkind.”

Both ladies paused for a moment, and then Cecilia let out a dark chuckle.

That was exactly what she was known for, but not by Leonard. He knew her better than the ton did, and he had never thought she was the cruel bluestocking that everyone else had decided she was.

Then again, he might change his mind when he learned of what she had done.

When the cake browned, the citrusy scent was impossible to ignore. Cecilia’s stomach growled; she had scarcely eaten, and she was ravenous. She wanted to wolf down the cake and then bake a second to take with her, but she managed to restrain herself.

“It is perfect,” she said softly. “Thank you, Bea.”

“You made it,” Beatrice reminded her. “I was merely there to help guide you, the way you have done for me all this time.”

They stepped out of the kitchen and snuck to the entrance hall, trying not to get caught by Lady Jennings. Beatrice led Cecilia to the door, cake in hand, and gave her an encouraging look.

“You will not take this too far, will you?” Cecilia asked, looking her up and down.

“Of course not. It will only be for a short while, so that I look more like the other ladies.”

“Very well, as long as you remain the Bea I’ve always known. I would hate to lose you.”

“You could never lose me! I am right here.”

Cecilia bit her lip, wondering if Beatrice had understood what she truly meant.

She knew that Beatrice would not leave her, but her friend could lose weight too quickly and get sick. It was not unheard of for young ladies to become sickly after losing weight, and she did not want that for her sweet friend.

“Wish me luck, then,” she said, turning to leave.

“All will be well. What matters is that you are going to tell him yourself, rather than him learning the truth from someone else. Do not worry so much, Cecilia. You have handled far worse.”

During the ride home, Cecilia wondered just what she could have possibly dealt with that was even half as awful. For all of her faults, she had never been a liar. If anything, her honesty was what caused her trouble.

She had never cared who she hurt before, as she thought she was doing the right thing, but there was no way of seeing what she had done as a good thing. She had been wicked, and she would have to pay the price, whether she liked it or not.

She had arrived home before dinner. The manor was quiet, eerily so, and darker than usual. She called out, but there was no response, so she went searching for someone to ask what was happening.

Fortunately, she found Mrs. Herrington in the dining room.

“Good evening,” Cecilia greeted. “Where is everyone?”

“His Grace told us all to go to our quarters,” Mrs. Herrington explained. “He said that once dinner is ready, there will be no need for us tonight.”

“I see.” Cecilia nodded. “It has been a very busy week, so he likely wants everyone to rest. He is thoughtful, is he not?”

“Indeed,” Mrs. Herrington replied.

“Where is he now? It is almost dinner.”

“He had an urgent matter to attend to. He will be eating alone tonight.”

“Oh, I see. That is quite all right, I shall do the same.”

Mrs. Herrington nodded, leaving her alone.

A moment later, a maid came into the room and served dinner.

Cecilia missed Leonard’s presence, but she was rather grateful that she did not yet have to face him. It would be an awful conversation, but it was as Beatrice had said. He was a good man, and he would understand. At least he would hear the truth from her.

However, as she sat waiting for him in the parlor, she realized that whatever was keeping him was not going to be resolved that night.

She sighed, knowing that it would have to wait another night, but it was not fair for him to be occupied all day only to have such a difficult conversation while he was exhausted.

She retired to her bedchambers, missing the feeling she had had the night prior when she had been half asleep in his arms as he carried her there. When she stepped inside, she knew that something was wrong.

She went to her wardrobe and checked her hats, only to find the money gone.

Her heart pounding, she went to her desk. She knew before she began searching that what she wanted to find was not going to be there. Her throat tightened, and her breathing quickened as reality sank in.

The essays were gone.