Page 27 of Her Lion of a Duke (Dukes & Beasts #3)
Leonard did not know what he wanted.
As he sat in his study, he knew that he did not want her to leave the room. But it was for the best. She was never going to understand him, nor was he going to understand her, so it was better that they were apart.
Even so, he did not know what to do with himself. He had gotten what he wanted—answers—but he wished that he had not learned anything at all. It was better living in blissful ignorance. Had he known that, he never would have begun the search in the first place.
He could not sleep that night, for every time he closed his eyes, he thought of Cecilia in her room. He yearned to see her, but he had to remind himself that this was how it had to be.
By the time morning came, he was exhausted and not ready to do much with his day, so he hid away in his study again.
“Last night was interesting,” Henry drawled. “I did not know you were capable of such anger.”
“I was not angry. I was shocked, nothing more.”
“If you insist, Brother. But you and I both know the truth. You are furious with her.”
“What if I am? I would say that I have every right to be, given her betrayal.”
Henry grinned and crossed to the window. With a sigh, Leonard joined him.
“I do not need your opinion,” Leonard muttered.
“Yes, you do. If you did not, I would not be here.”
“Very well, then. Tell me what you would say if you were here.”
“I would say that this is all ridiculous. All of this happened years ago, and the only thing she did wrong was write something that you took personally, even though it was not her intention. Are you truly going to hold that over her?”
“For a while, yes. Her intentions do not matter when we were affected the way we were.”
“You were affected,” Henry corrected. “I was not seen any differently, for I was not there. Do not pretend that you are angry for my sake.”
Leonard rolled his eyes, not wanting to concede.
He was furious, but mostly with himself.
He knew that Cecilia had her reasons and that she wanted her freedom, but why did it have to be at his expense?
She could have pursued any activity, and he would have supported her, but she had chosen something that threatened ruin if anything were to go awry.
He did not cross her path that morning, and by afternoon, he had left to meet with Levi and Morgan. They had arranged a meeting, and he was grateful for that. He could have some time away from home, and he needed that more than anything.
He tried to tell himself that he was not running away.
“Something is troubling you,” Levi noted as soon as he arrived. “I can see it.”
“I am perfectly fine, I assure you.”
“Nonsense. There are dark circles under your eyes, and you are withdrawn. What has happened?”
“Nothing that I wish to discuss,” Leonard uttered, taking a seat and ordering his first drink.
His friends exchanged a look.
He knew that they were concerned about him, but he hoped that they would not press the issue. He wanted everything to be normal and not about his troubles. He wanted to know how he felt about it all before he discussed it.
Unfortunately, his friends were not of the same mind.
By his fourth drink, Morgan snatched his glass and covered it with his hand.
“It seems you want to drown your sorrows,” he said gently, “but I would rather you share them with us.”
“I do not want to trouble you.”
“We will be more troubled if you keep drinking like this, I can assure you.”
Leonard let out a resigned sigh. He cleared his throat before recounting what had happened.
His friends’ faces fell upon hearing that Cecilia had been behind it all along, as if they did not believe him. He did not blame them. Had he been in their shoes, he would not have believed it either.
“I always thought that she was opinionated,” Levi said, “but I never would have expected her to do all of that.”
“You must not tell a soul,” Leonard insisted. “The ton cannot discover Felix Gray’s real identity, or else we will be ruined.”
“Of course. We will not tell anyone.”
“Including your wives.”
At that, his friends looked uneasily at one another. They told their wives everything, and Leonard knew that. He had thought that he and Cecilia were the same until the previous night.
Even if they promised him that they would keep the secret, he knew they would eventually tell their wives. It was better that he did not pressure them.
“Fine, you can tell your wives,” he said begrudgingly. “But they will never do anything to harm Cecilia.”
“They would be concerned about her, and rightfully so,” Morgan countered. “Where is she now?”
“She is home, I presume. I have not seen her today, but if she has acknowledged her mistake, she is likely hiding away in her room. I suppose that I will return home, we will avoid one another, and she will do what she pleases.”
“But you will not send her away?”
“Where would she go? I am angry, but I am not cruel. Pridefield Manor is her home, should she still want it to be.”
His two friends looked at one another, and then they continued as they were.
Leonard knew that he would have to see Cecilia again and speak to her, and he wondered how best to go about it. If he wanted peace, he could simply apologize and agree that she had not done anything wrong, and then swallow his anger until he forgot.
But he did not want that. He wanted her to understand how he felt, even if she disagreed, and thus far she did not. She saw things the way she did and was unwilling to try to see them in any other way.
He realized that he was being much the same.
“I am concerned about Lady Beatrice,” Levi spoke suddenly, changing the subject. “She has yet to marry, and Emma says that her loneliness is affecting her.”
“I thought you were staying in London to chaperone her?” Leonard asked.
“Indeed, but Lady Beatrice has insisted that we return. She says that she does not need to be watched over. That was what caught Emma by surprise, for she never would have spoken like that before.”
Leonard remembered how Beatrice was when they had first met. She was gentle, soft-spoken, and kind, and he could not imagine her snapping at a friend the way she had.
“People change,” Morgan commented. “Perhaps some time alone is exactly what she needed. If she has found her voice, then we cannot begrudge her that.”
“I said that to my wife, but she disagreed. She said that Lady Beatrice was not herself. Seeing how well they know one another, I am inclined to believe her. Something is wrong, and though there is nothing we can do, I would like to know more about it.”
“I can recommend a private investigator,” Leonard offered grimly.
He had to meet with Mr. Livingston and explain that he had discovered the identity of Felix Gray. He would still compensate the man, for he had done everything he could, but it stung to know that he was paying a man for his help in finding proof of something his wife had done.
He was surprisingly steady on his feet when he left the gentlemen’s club, and he soon found himself in Mr. Livingston’s office. As he revealed the truth, the man’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Leonard, meanwhile, was tired of telling the same story over and over. He did not want any of it to be true, and he hated that he had to remind himself that it was.
“I cannot believe it.” Mr. Livingston gaped at him. “I knew it had to be someone, but I never would have thought it could be her.”
“Nor would I. Believe me, I am as surprised.”
“I did not look into her as closely as I should have,” Mr. Livingston admitted. “When you told me about her, I assumed that she was the sort of lady who speaks her mind with no regard for who she offended. That made her less of a suspect.”
“We both made mistakes. Regardless, we now know the truth, and I will have to act accordingly.”
“An annulment?” Mr. Livingston asked tentatively.
Leonard blinked at him.
He was angry, yes, but walking away from his marriage? Even a separation seemed too much, for he did not want to lose Cecilia. He wanted to forgive her, but he did not know how to do it.
“She may ask for that,” he said. “I do not want her to continue her work, so she has every right to choose it over me. I know her; she cares deeply for everything she does.”
“More than she cares for your marriage? I would not have thought that.”
“No,” Leonard sighed, handing the man a pouch of coins. “Neither did I.”
He returned home, but when the carriage rolled to a halt, he did not climb out. He did not want to go inside, nor did he want to face his wife. It was time for dinner, and he could not face a silent meal with her.
Even so, he was hungry. So he took a deep breath, climbed out of the carriage, and made for the house. It was quiet, too quiet, but he chalked it down to the fact that the servants were aware of their dispute.
He took his seat at the dining table. His gaze kept straying to Cecilia’s empty seat despite himself. He wondered where she was, but he decided that she had either eaten or was not hungry. He ate in silence, grateful that Henry did not appear, and then retired to his study.
Something was wrong; he could feel it. But there was not very much that he could do. Even if he wanted to reconcile with his wife, he did not want to disturb her. He would have to wait until she was ready to speak with him, and knowing Cecilia, that could take a long time.
And so he went to bed late that night, tossing and turning until he awoke the following morning. He listened for noise, footsteps, or voices, but nothing came. There was only the awful silence he had to endure the night before, and he was tired of it.
He dressed and left to find his wife.
Cecilia was a stubborn lady, but he did not care. He did not want to live alone in his house. Even if they did not reconcile, he wanted her to roam freely around his home—her home. If she did not, that would make him a bad husband, which he was determined not to be.
He looked in the breakfast room first, but he did not find her there. He grabbed some bread and cheese and walked away, not having the time to sit down when he wanted to know what she was doing.
He checked the drawing room next, then the parlor, but both were empty. It was as though she had disappeared without a trace, and it infuriated him.
Fortunately, he knew exactly whom to ask about her whereabouts.
He found Mrs. Herrington in the garden, and when she saw him, she paled. He knew instantly that she knew something he did not.
“Where is she?” he demanded. “I have not seen her since two nights ago.”
“I-I do not know, Your Grace.”
It was not like her to hide things from him, and he did not like it. Mrs. Herrington had been like a second mother to him, and he thought that she respected him more than to lie to him.
“I can see it on your face. Where is she?”
“That is exactly it, Your Grace. I do not know where she is. She has been missing since yesterday morning. We tried to tell you, but you were also absent.”
His head spun. Cecilia had been missing since their argument, and nobody knew where she had gone.
“I do not understand. How has nobody seen her?”
“We were not expecting her to leave. I thought she was in her bedchambers, but then morning dawned and she did not come down for breakfast. By the time a maid found her room empty, we assumed that she had gone out without telling us, like you had. Then, she did not return last night, nor this morning.”
Leonard was furious that nobody had noticed, but then he had to redirect that anger at himself. He had disappeared for a whole day, when he could have searched for her and learned of her absence sooner. Now, his wife was missing, and he only had himself to blame.
“We have to find her,” he said firmly. “I must know where she is.”
“Are you certain that is a good idea?” Mrs. Herrington asked, and he raised an eyebrow at her. “Of course, we should know where she went, but she may not want to speak right now. She is no doubt embarrassed by what happened. If I know her well, she will not take kindly to being chased down.”
Leonard did not want to admit it, but his housekeeper was right. Cecilia was not a child; she was a very capable lady. If she had left without a trace, it was because she did not want to be found.
It killed him, but he had to respect her decision.
He would give her time and hope that she would return. It was all he could do.