Page 4 of Her Lion of a Duke (Dukes & Beasts #3)

Leonard did not marry Cecilia to find out the truth about the letters, but he had to admit that it helped.

When he had rid himself of his brother’s belongings, something about the letters from Felix Gray had remained with him, though he never questioned it. He had been rather too preoccupied with clearing his own name to wonder about someone else’s.

That had to end, however, when he heard the rumors.

Felix Gray was not only a man who was in contact with Henry, but also a writer. Leonard had been alerted to a political critique by his housekeeper, and as he read it, he realized just how relevant the subject was.

It was about ducal corruption and the dangerous silence surrounding the deaths of aristocrats. It was no coincidence that the rumors spread just as it was published. Someone had meant to hurt him, and he intended to find out who it was.

His plans, however, would have to wait, for he had a wife to tend to.

“That was quite the evening,” he said softly as they rode home.

But Cecilia did not respond.

Their situation was far from ideal, but Leonard had not expected her to be so silent about it all. Cecilia always had an opinion, and she always made it known. If she were feeling bad, she would have said something to him. He was certain of it.

“I ought to warn you about the manor,” he continued. “It is not exactly what one would describe as homely. I have not lived in it for years now.”

“Leonard, I have already told you that I have been there before. I know the manor like the back of my hand.”

“Yes, but I have not lived there since that party. It might be quite the surprise when you see it.”

Again, there was no response.

Leonard wondered if she believed him, but he hoped that she did. He had sequestered himself in the manor when he was not in London, as it had become difficult to stay in the house he had once shared with his brother after everything that had happened.

He simply hoped that he would not see him again for a while.

When they arrived, he watched the shock register on his wife’s face.

Indeed, she had expected everything to be as it had been years ago, yet it was anything but.

The manor was not as homely as when it had been painstakingly prepared for guests.

His servants had done what they could on such short notice, but there was only so much that could be done.

It was a large estate, and it was cold. Even though he had lived there for most of his life, he had to admit that it was quite intimidating.

“Would you like to be shown to your rooms?” he asked.

“Yes, that would be best.”

Mrs. Herrington whisked her away in an instant, leaving no time to introduce her to the staff.

All of that would be done in the morning, after Cecilia had rested.

It had been a long day, and Leonard knew that something was amiss with her.

He could hardly blame her; something was amiss with him, too.

He made for his study, sitting at his desk and trying to decide what to do. He was on his honeymoon, and that was as good an excuse as any not to work, but he wanted to fix what was necessary. He grabbed a book and opened it to read in silence for a while.

“You cannot avoid this forever, you know.”

Leonard sighed and set the book down. He looked up to see Henry, as he did every time he was in the manor.

“Leave me alone. I am on my honeymoon.”

“Then where is your wife?” Henry joked. “I must say, I never thought you would marry. You’re so full of surprises, Brother.”

“Yes, well, such a trait runs in the family,” Leonard grumbled. “Henry, what happened to—”

“Your Grace?” Mrs. Herrington called, knocking on the study door. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” Leonard replied, turning to see that Henry had disappeared.

“Were you talking to someone?” Mrs. Herrington asked upon entering. “I thought I heard your voice.”

“Reading aloud,” Leonard lied, gesturing to his book. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes. Her Grace knew the way to her rooms already. She told me that she had attended a party here before. I thought I recognized her.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“Only that she is pleased about the arrangement and that the manor is not how she remembers it.”

“No, she visited when I still cared to maintain it.”

“Well, we ought to fix it. It will not do to have a duke and duchess in an unworthy home.”

“Might you undertake that with Her Grace? It will give her something to do.”

“Of course, though I must say that it is strange that you are not speaking to her about it yourself. She is your wife, after all.”

“She is a friend of mine. I have known her for years, and at the moment, it would seem that she does not wish to see me. I know better than to disrespect her wishes.”

“Young love.” Mrs. Herrington chuckled. “Very well, I shall ask her about it in the morning after she has met the staff.”

Leonard did not want his housekeeper to leave. When he was alone, Henry came back.

When the door closed behind her, he waited a few short moments and then stepped out. He went to the dining room, calling for a tea tray to be prepared. He asked that Cecilia be sent for. He hoped that she would join him, but she did not.

He finished his tea and then retreated to his bedchambers. It was not what anyone would picture for their wedding night, but it was precisely what they had agreed on: a marriage in name only, mutually beneficial but not loving.

He had thought it ideal at the time, but now that it was a reality, he realized that he missed his friend.

The following morning, he looked out his window and listened to the introduction in the gardens below.

Cecilia acted perfectly, greeting each servant and studying them to remember who they were.

He then watched as Mrs. Herrington spoke to her, asking about the renovations that he had suggested the night before.

He could swear that he saw a flicker of excitement in Cecilia’s eyes, and he hoped that she would accept the proposition.

He left to break his fast then.

To his surprise, she accompanied him that morning. She did not seem pleased about it, but at least she was willing.

“How was your tour?” he asked.

“Long,” she sighed, biting into an apple. “It was as you said; things are not as they were before.”

“And what of us?” he asked. “Are we as we were before?”

“I would like to think so. Then again, we are married now. Some things will undoubtedly change.”

“And are you happy for that to happen?”

“Leonard, yesterday was very strange. It lasted an eternity. I am tired.”

“I understand, but I wish to ensure that we have an understanding before we have spent too much time here.”

“Very well.” She nodded. “I am prepared for whatever changes will come, and I am happy that the matter is settled. I never expected to find a husband, but of all the men in London, you are the least awful. In that sense, if I must be the wife of someone, I am pleased that it is you.”

She looked at him firmly, and he knew he would not receive much more from her.

He cleared his throat, nodding.

“It appears that we are of the same mind,” he offered. “I was not in want of a wife, but as I must have one anyway, I am pleased that my wife is at least a friend.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Cecilia stabbing her fork into a sausage and eating it quickly.

“How is your cousin feeling? I suppose your aunt is pleased that she only has one lady to find a match for.”

“My aunt is more than pleased. Clara is unnerved. She has not told me in so many words, but I know my cousin. She does not want to do all of this alone, and now that we are here, she has no other choice. Beatrice will be there to watch over her, but it is not the same as having someone with you at all times.”

“And what of Lady Beatrice? She may not be a friend as you are, but I have no issues with her.”

“She will do as she has always done, I assume. She will hover on the periphery of ballrooms, too afraid to speak to any gentlemen. I hope that one day, she finds a way to bake for a gentleman, for he would fall for her at once.”

Leonard could not help but smile at the thought. Lady Beatrice was a kind young lady, and she deserved someone like her. He wondered if he was a good match for his wife, as they were not too different.

“I have a surprise for you,” he said suddenly. “It should arrive soon.”

“I do not need a gift,” Cecilia said firmly, though the corner of her lips quirked up.

“Consider it a wedding present. I did not purchase anything for you, and it is only fair.”

She did not ask anything further, but she seemed more at ease. He wondered why she had changed so suddenly, but he did not want to ask her and ruin things when she was at last smiling again.

That afternoon, the wedding present arrived. It was something that Leonard had brought to the manor from his London townhouse. He would have had it brought the day before, but he wanted to ensure that Cecilia had settled beforehand.

She paled when she saw the chestnut-brown bundle stumble out of the carriage and charge toward them.

Brutus was the one thing that brought Leonard joy when he was alone. He was a beautiful dog, but he knew who his master was and did not tend to listen to anyone but him.

The footman watched on, confused as to what had just happened. Leonard laughed, but when he turned to his wife, she was as white as a sheet.

“Brutus, stop,” he said firmly before the dog could leap up onto her skirts.

Brutus sat at once, mouth open and tongue out, panting excitedly. Cecilia’s breathing was ragged, and she watched him with wide eyes.

“I am not so fond of dogs,” she admitted quietly.

“He won’t harm you. Though I would relax if I were you, for he can smell fear,” Leonard urged.

Cecilia shot him a withering look and then reluctantly extended her hand. Brutus licked it happily and then jumped up on Leonard’s legs, pawing at his trousers and leaving streaks of mud.

“All right, boy,” Leonard said kindly. “Yes, I have missed you too. Come now, sit.”

Again, Brutus did as he was told. Leonard turned to Cecilia, who did not seem as afraid as before.

“You need not fear him. He likes to play if you are good at throwing sticks.”

“With all of the energy I have at this moment, I could probably do that for hours.”

“You are more than welcome to. I have to work in my study today, but do whatever you please. This is your home now, after all.”

“Yes, quite,” she mumbled. “Well, thank you for the present.”

Leonard left her in the garden with Brutus, and when he stepped into his study, he looked out the window to see her throwing a stick. He could see her brow furrowed in concentration, and he had to admit that she was far stronger than she appeared.

He made a mental note not to anger her too much, for if pushed too far, she could clearly do some real damage.

“She seems nice,” Henry remarked, appearing beside him. “A good duchess should always have good aim, I would say. You never know when it might come in handy.”

“I do not have time for you.”

“No, you never did. And yet here I am.”

“Why are you here? You are supposed to be in heaven with the angels. I had enough well-meaning people tell me that.”

“And leave you alone? I could never do that to my younger brother. I am here because you need me, Leonard. It is that simple.”

“I do not need you,” Leonard grumbled.

But it was true. If Henry were alive, Leonard could have asked him just who Felix Gray was and why they were writing to one another. He could have asked where Henry had gone that night and what had happened to him.

However, Henry was gone. He had been dead for years, and Leonard only had the ghost of him to talk to. He would have said that he wanted him gone, to leave him alone altogether, but that would have been a lie.

He would have been far too lonely without him.

“What do you plan to do about the letters?” Henry taunted. “Why not simply let them go, just as you did years ago?”

“You know perfectly well why I cannot do that. Felix Gray continues to write about you and me, slandering our names.”

“He is only slandering yours,” Henry reminded him. “He was a friend of mine, so he has no reason to speak ill of me. You, on the other hand…”

“Henry, what did you tell him?”

Henry fell quiet, his back turned to him.

“Henry? Tell me what you said.”

“I cannot,” he replied with a sigh, “and you and I both know that.”

Leonard groaned, turning back to the window.

Brutus had returned to her, and she instructed him to sit.

Even though Brutus only knew to obey his master, he sat happily, his tail sweeping the ground.

Leonard could not help but smile, hoping that it was a sign that his wife would find her place in their home, after all.

He hoped that she would change everything entirely and render the estate unrecognizable. He did not want to exist in a place where so many terrible things had happened, not if he had any hope of healing.

“She is a good lady,” he said quietly, “so you are least correct about one thing.”

But when he turned back to his brother, Henry was nowhere to be seen.