Page 30 of Her Lion of a Duke (Dukes & Beasts #3)

“Surely you do not want to marry him?”

Cecilia was at her wits’ end with her cousin, who, despite her discomfort, had decided to listen to her mother.

She did not understand, nor did she know how to change her cousin’s mind, when Clara had never disobeyed.

“He is not… too bad,” Clara said quietly over breakfast. “There are worse gentlemen.”

“But Renshaw? Clara, he is Leonard’s cousin, and believe me, he is not the sort of man you want to spend the rest of your life with.”

“I have yet to find a gentleman I want to spend the rest of my life with. Mother says that he is a good man and that she has known him for years.”

“That in itself should be enough. He is at least twice your age!”

“The age gap is not necessarily a bad thing. Your husband is only a few years your senior, and yet your marriage has… Well, you will not tell me what has happened, but one would think that he would have been responsible enough to keep you at home, with him.”

“It is my choice to be here.”

Cecilia was taken aback by her cousin’s retort. She had never spoken ill of others, especially not those she liked, and she liked Leonard well enough.

Clara herself seemed surprised by her own words, as she fell quiet and looked down at her plate.

“You are frightened, aren’t you?” Cecilia asked gently.

Clara nodded.

“Clara, I understand that this is not what you envisioned. It is certainly not what I had planned for you, but there is no reason why you must do what Aunt Margaret thinks is best for you. You have seen how many gentlemen are vying for your hand.”

“I… I apologize, Cecilia. I should not have said such unkind things. You are right; there are many gentlemen showing interest, but I don't know any of them. If Renshaw is liked—”

“He is not! Believe me, Clara, he is not the kind, respected man Aunt Margaret believes him to be. He is vile. The way he speaks about ladies makes me feel unwell, and he has made it clear that he is only in search of a pretty little fool he can bend to his will.”

“That does not matter.”

“It does,” Cecilia insisted, growing exasperated.

“How you are treated is what I care about more than anything. I do not understand why you are so easily accepting all of this when you have every reason not to. You deserve to take your time in choosing a husband and to enjoy a courtship before getting engaged. Why will you not do anything to help yourself?”

“Because I do not have a choice! Mother has already told me last night that—” Clara broke off, looking around frantically before rising from her seat and crossing the room. “I must go.”

“Stay,” Cecilia implored.

“I cannot. Lord Renshaw wishes to see me. We are to promenade.”

Clara bolted out of the room, and though Cecilia followed after her, she was stopped by her aunt, who appeared in the doorway with crossed arms and a stern expression.

“Do not think about ruining this match,” she warned. “This is the perfect match for Clara, and I will not have you ruin it simply because you do not believe in such arrangements.”

“Aunt Margaret, this cannot be what you want for your daughter. You have always wanted to secure the best match for her. You and I both know that Clara could find much better.”

“She could, but that is not what is happening right now. As it stands, the only real offer she has received has been from Lord Renshaw, and I do not like how you are speaking about my friend.”

Cecilia did not know how else to speak about the man. She did not like him, and she had never been able to pretend to think highly of someone when she did not.

“Aunt Margaret,” she tried once more, “was Lord Thompson not what you had in mind? He is wealthy, and Clara appears to hold him in high regard. She would want for nothing. What objections could you possibly have to that?”

Her aunt sighed, softening. “It is not that I object. I know that many gentlemen are showing interest in Clara. But Society is a very fickle thing. One wrong step, and she would be ruined. Accepting Renshaw’s proposal would prevent that.”

“Proposal?” Cecilia squeaked. “Is that what Clara was going to say?”

“Indeed. Cecilia, you may not like any of this, but she is your cousin. She is my daughter, and I know what is best for her. I do not need you to tell me what is best for her.”

Cecilia rather thought that she did, but she did not say as much. She brushed past her aunt and stepped out into the hallway, her heart pounding in her chest.

How was she going to save her cousin?

“Hello, Your Grace,” Lord Renshaw said as he entered. “Might you now tell me what has brought you here?”

“I have already explained, My Lord.”

“Yes, but you were not telling the truth. Anyone could see that. Come now, you know as well as I do that my cousin can be difficult. If there have been… difficulties between the two of you, you must know that you are not to blame for them.”

“I do not have time for this,” she snapped. “I do not know why you think you have any right to court my cousin, but you do not. She will never like you, Lord Renshaw.”

He stepped toward her, his voice low. “I do not need her to. I only need to be liked by her mother, and believe me, I am.”

With a smirk, he walked away, joining her aunt.

Cecilia thought about his words as she returned to her room. She had blamed Leonard for what had happened, but when Lord Renshaw had said so, she began to see it differently.

No matter her intentions, she had hurt her husband. She had added to the rumors and made the loss of his brother worse when he should only have had to deal with his grief.

She was at fault, and she could no longer deny that. She longed to return home to him, but she could not leave. She had to save Clara first, and she could only hope that Leonard did not seek an annulment in the meantime.

Hiding away in her room, she tried to think of ways to sabotage the courtship. She had to be careful, as she could not damage Clara’s reputation, but she had to find a way to make Lord Renshaw change his mind about her. She would not let her cousin marry that ogre, regardless of what her aunt said.

As she was deep in thought, the clouds grew dark. It was supposed to be a beautiful day, but within minutes, rain began to fall. Thunder rumbled overhead, and she sighed, smiling despite everything that was happening.

They would not be able to promenade, that much was certain. She returned to the drawing room, hoping they would cancel their plans.

“This is most unfortunate,” she heard Lord Renshaw say. “I did not expect this at all.”

Cecilia pressed herself against the wall outside the room in order to listen.

“Indeed,” her aunt replied. “And Clara was so looking forward to it. Perhaps another time?”

Cecilia was relieved, but only for a moment. Lord Renshaw wanted something, and it would take more than a storm to deter him.

“I can stay,” he suggested. “I know that Her Grace is not best pleased about the match, and I would appreciate the time to better myself in her eyes.”

“You need not concern yourself. I will speak with my niece, for this is not for her to decide. She has no say in it.”

“Even so, I would rather she grows to like me, especially if our ties are going to strengthen.”

Cecilia looked up at the ceiling and hoped that her aunt would not allow it. She wanted the man to leave so that she could try to talk some sense into Clara.

Of course, her aunt was not going to dismiss a friend.

“That does sound like a good idea,” she replied. “Cecilia is not the easiest to sway, but I know that you can do it.”

Cecilia grimaced, stepping away so that she would not be caught eavesdropping. Alas, she was spotted; she was marched into the drawing room and forced to sit beside Lord Renshaw.

Since she was married, they were left alone together. It was the very opposite of what she wanted, but there was no escaping it.

“What do you want from me?” she groaned.

“I wish to come to an agreement. I know that you do not think highly of me, and although I do not understand why, I hope to change that. An alliance between the two of us would be a very good thing, you know.”

“Why would I want an alliance with you? You have familial ties to my husband. That should be enough.”

“Let me ask you, Your Grace. What has happened between the two of you?”

“Lord Renshaw, I—”

“Do not try to tell me another lie. The two of you practically clung to one another. Now, you are here, and he is there, and from what your aunt has told me, you are miserable.”

Cecilia flushed pink. Her aunt was quickly becoming someone that she did not trust or like. The betrayal stung.

“You see?” he continued. “Believe me, I know my cousin very well. He is stubborn and will not listen to reason. His brother was much the same. I understand that it is difficult, but you should know that whatever happened was not your fault. You may not like me, but I want to help you.”

“I do not need your help, My Lord. I am perfectly happy in my marriage, and I am only visiting because my cousin needs assistance. I am pleased that I arrived when I did, for you and I both know your intentions.”

“I do not hide my intentions. I wish to be powerful, like any man, and I want a beautiful wife who will not question me. Your cousin can fulfil that role.”

“And what of your biggest desire? How are you going to find that power when Clara is only a young lady?”

“That is for me to figure out.” He chuckled. “In the meantime, you should know that I will soon be very powerful indeed, and I believe that you would rather have me as an ally than an enemy.”

Cecilia hoped that he was merely threatening her, but the conviction in his voice unsettled her. He meant every word that he said, and he intended to carry out his plans, whatever they were.

“I have always thought that you were too good for my cousin,” he admitted quietly, his eyes boring into hers. “You are beautiful and sharp and quick-witted. I do not know what you see in him, truly.”

“He is kind to me,” she snapped, “and a wonderful man. He would do anything to protect me, including from unwanted advances.”

“I do not appreciate such an accusation.”

“And I do not appreciate you being so close to me.”

They fell silent for a moment, and it was Lord Renshaw who backed down first. He leaned away from her.

Thunder boomed again, lightning flashing intermittently. Cecilia used it as an excuse to stand up and walk over to the window. She heard Lord Renshaw follow her, but she no longer wished to acknowledge him. She focused on the rain and the thunder and let her thoughts run with them.

“I meant what I said,” Lord Renshaw said softly. “You are too good for him.”

“Clara is too good for you, and yet here you are. If you wish to adhere to your morals, perhaps make sure that you are aligned with them first.”

“I am not worthy of her yet, but I will be. Believe me, my plans are years in the making. It is a waiting game, but I have always been ready for it. It will all soon come to fruition, and with the way things are right now, it may be best that you stay with your aunt.”

“I will be returning home. I am attending to Clara, then I will see my good friend and return to my husband. We will live our lives together without any issues, and you will ensure that you do not ruin that.”

“I do not think you want that. In any case, you will decide where your loyalties lie, and you will have to handle what comes your way.”

He laughed coldly, then turned to leave.

Cecilia was frozen in place, wondering what he meant by that. There had to be something he knew about Leonard that he was not revealing, and there was a chance that it would change everything if she knew.

And yet she did not believe it. She had faith in her husband, whether they were doing well or not. Even if Lord Renshaw had plans, it did not mean that they would come to fruition. He thought highly of himself, but the truth was that he was a sad little man who had some wealth but not much more.

He envied them, and that envy would ruin him, eventually.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden pounding on the door.

Startled, she turned and left the room. She watched as the front door opened, wishing desperately that it was Leonard, even though she knew that he was at Pridefield Manor, likely not missing her at all.

He must be enjoying his peace, wondering why he married her in the first place. She told herself that she would not see him again until she went back home, and it would be her fight to handle.

And yet there was no mistaking the man who entered. Tall, imposing, devilishly handsome. It was Leonard, and when he looked up and saw her, she could swear there was a small smile on his face.

“Hello, Duchess,” he greeted softly. “It would seem that you and I have something to discuss.”