Page 11 of The Truth about the Duke (Whispers of the Ton #5)

Chapter Ten

“‘ T hank you for your third article. It will be published within the sennight. We look forward to your fourth piece for us.’” So saying, Lydia looked back at her friend, her shoulders lifting and then falling again. “It seems as though The London Chronicle is willing to continue publishing what I write.”

Sophie smiled. “That is good, is it not?”

“It is.” Lydia looked away, then sighed. “It seems a strange thing even to admit but I have had my thoughts centered solely on the Duke of Melrose this last sennight.” She let out another sigh, frustrated with herself for having so much time given up to thinking about him. “It has been almost seven full days since we were last in company together, when he came to the bookshop and where I revealed the truth to him.”

“Something I still cannot quite believe that you did,” her friend interjected, a quiet smile on her lips. “You went against everything that you had already determined to do and found great courage to be truthful with him although he could have not only revealed you to the ton but also railed at you loudly and publicly for what you had written!”

“But he did not,” Lydia answered. “And though he did speak to me once I had told him the truth, he has not come in search of me since. I thought he would.”

Sophie nodded. “As did I. I thought in his desperation to find out the truth about the heirlooms, he would have come in search of you.”

Lydia lifted her shoulders and then let them fall. “Mayhap he has decided to continue with the search alone.” She did not know why, could certainly not even attempt to explain it either to Sophie or even to herself but there was something that upset her about that silence. It was as though part of her wanted him to come to speak with her, even though she found his presence overbearing and irritating.

“But you have been able to concentrate on your articles,” Sophie said, with a small shrug. “That is a good thing, at least.”

“It is. Helped by your presence and your willingness to take me to the various bookshops and libraries!” Lydia laughed, as Sophie chuckled. “My mother would never permit such a thing if she knew of it.”

Sophie grinned. “It is just as well that she does not! Though I am concerned that as yet, no gentlemen have come to call on you.” Her smile began to fade. “That will trouble your mother, will it not? After all, she knows that I have introduced you to my acquaintances, and yet… ”

“That is because I refuse to show them any interest,” Lydia answered, with a roll of her eyes. “Yes, many of them do not appear to care whether one is a bluestocking or not but these same gentlemen seem to be quite unable to have a prolonged conversation about anything other than shooting, hunting, or the local gossip!” She had tried, during her dances at various balls or in conversation at soirees, to bring the conversation around to weightier matters but none of them had been successful. Her remarks had either been met with silence or turned around to suit whatever it was that the specific gentleman she spoke with was interested in.

“All the same, I do think – ”

“Ah, Lady Markham. You are come to call again.”

Lydia and Sophie’s conversation was brought to a swift close as none other than Lady Hampshire swept into the room, her eyes sharp – and Lydia’s stomach twisted. Clearly, her mother was in some sort of temper today and Lydia feared she would soon bear the brunt of it.

“I had hoped that you would have someone other than Lady Markham calling, Lydia.” Lady Hampshire came to join them both, giving Lydia a somewhat impervious look as she did so. “But alas, it is still only Lady Markham!”

“I was just about to suggest that we go into town,” Sophie answered, a smile on her face which Lydia knew she did not really feel. “There will be many of the ton present at this hour.”

Lady Hampshire’s lip curled. “I am not certain that it will bring any hope to the present situation, Lady Markham. My daughter does not appear to be attracting the interest of any gentlemen and that concerns me. Even Lord Kendall, who has danced with her and spoken at length on occasion, has never come to call.”

Lydia fought the urge to either shrug or respond with sharp words of her own, wanting to state that she had no interest in whether or not Lord Kendall had come to take tea, for though he was a handsome and considerate gentleman, it was clear to her that he was looking for something more than she was willing to give.

“I think that – ” Letting out a breath of frustration at the knock which came to the door, Lady Hampshire called for the servant to enter. Her eyes still lingered on Lydia as the footman came in, bearing a card which he handed directly to Lady Hampshire.

Her gaze fell to it and Lydia shared a look with Sophie, silently wondering how she might escape from her mother’s harsh words and clear intentions to have her do something to garner the interest of a gentleman.

Then, Lady Hampshire gasped, her eyes flaring wide as she gazed back at Lydia. “The Duke of Melrose is come to call!”

Lydia blinked quickly, a tightness in her chest as she clasped her hands tightly together in her lap, something like relief flooding through her.

“Send him in at once!” Lady Hampshire exclaimed, rising to her feet and practically shooing the footman out of the room. “Hurry now!” Turning, she came towards Lydia who also got to her feet. “Oh, if only you’d chosen your best dress! This is certainly not the right color for you, for – ”

“It is perfectly all right, Mama,” Lydia answered, refusing to let her mother fuss over her and desperately hoping that she would not take the Duke’s presence for interest. Lydia knew precisely why he was here. “Hurry now. He will come any moment.”

The door opened again before Lady Hampshire had a chance to return to her seat and in a moment, the Duke walked into the room, a heavy set expression on his face as he took them in. His gaze lingered on Lydia for a moment before he bowed, making her shiver in fear of what the darkness on his face might mean.

“Thank you for permitting me to call unexpectedly,” he said, no smile on his face.

“But of course, Your Grace!” Lady Hampshire’s voice was filled with excitement and inwardly, Lydia winced. “Do you wish to join us? We were just about to take tea.”

“I will not, I thank you.”

“Oh.” Lady Hampshire’s face fell in an instant, though Lydia continued to hold the Duke’s gaze, wondering what his purpose was in coming to call. “Then might I ask – ”

“Lady Lydia,” the Duke interrupted, though Lydia presumed he had not meant to. “I wondered if you would join me for a ride in the carriage? I understand this is a little unexpected and if you have intentions for this afternoon already, then – ”

“She does not. Of course, she would be glad to join you!” Lady Hampshire waved one hand at Lydia, gesturing her to the door. “Though she will need a chaperone.”

“Lady Markham?” Lydia spoke quickly before her mother could place herself in that position. “Would you care to join us? I know that my mother has Lady Gillingham expected later this afternoon.”

Lady Markham nodded and smiled, moving towards the door as Lady Hampshire began to stammer. “But of course.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Lydia inclined her head for a moment and then came towards her mother, grasping her hand briefly and seeming to pull her from her confusion. “I will not be too long, Mama. Lady Markham shall be a perfect chaperone, I can assure you.”

It took Lady Hampshire a moment but eventually, she smiled. “Of course. Do enjoy yourself, my dear.” She looked to the Duke, a dazzling smile on her face now. “Thank you for your consideration of my daughter, Your Grace. I hope that you have a wonderful drive together.”

Heat seared Lydia’s cheeks as she made her way to the door, fully aware of her mother’s expectations about this carriage ride. The Duke had not called to have her for her company alone, he clearly was expecting her to take him to the library – or wanted to tell her that he no longer thought it wise to have her help. It did not take her long to make her way to the carriage, the Duke handing up both herself and Sophie. The ladies sat together and Lydia found herself grateful for Sophie’s company. The Duke’s presence was unnerving enough!

“Thank you for joining me.” The Duke’s hazel eyes gazed back into Lydia’s, never once turning to Sophie as the carriage remained still, waiting for the Duke’s direction as to where they were to go. “I presume that your friend knows all?”

“Yes, I do,” Sophie spoke smartly, ignoring the Duke’s frown. “I am present, Your Grace, and you can speak to me directly.”

Much to Lydia’s surprise, the Duke did not state that he had done nothing wrong nor berate Lady Markham for her forwardness. Instead, he nodded, his jaw tightening for just a moment.

“You are quite correct, Lady Markham. I should have addressed you directly.” He offered a thin smile. “Forgive me. My thoughts have been a little tormented of late and I am not as genteel as I ought to be.”

Sophie’s eyebrows lifted, as did Lydia’s. She had never heard him speak in such a way before, though he had apologized to her some time ago, she recalled. But there was a gentleness of manner now, a quick awareness that he was not as he ought to be and his willingness to admit it outright was quite refreshing.

“Lady Lydia,” he continued, turning his attention again to her. “I hope that you might still be willing to show me where you found this story?”

She nodded. “Of course. It is in Fellows’ Circulating Library.”

“Then there we shall go.” It took the Duke a few moments to tell the driver where to direct the carriage but after that, he sat back in his seat and, much to Lydia’s surprise, smiled at her. It was the first genuine smile he had ever offered her and, seeing it, Lydia felt her heart lift. There was a kindness in his smile, something that lit his expression with a brightness that hadn’t been there before in any prior conversations. It was as if, in speaking with her and in finding where they were to go, he now felt a new sense of relief and mayhap, even a resolve.

“I have not often been to the library.” The Duke glanced away from her. “I presume you have been there many a time?”

“When I can, yes.” Lydia smiled at Sophie. “I have Lady Markham to attend with me, which has made things a good deal easier since neither my mother nor father would permit me to go.”

“Though I have heard it can often be seen as a social setting?” With a question dancing in his eyes, the Duke looked back towards her. “They would not be willing for you to attend even then?”

Lydia shook her head, a sadness touching her heart. “Even still, Your Grace. They know very well that I do not delight in novels or gossip. Instead, I lend myself to weightier things, to learning and to study and that is not something that they encourage in the least. Though I am sure you can understand that, given that you agree with them.”

The light that had been in the Duke’s expression slowly began to fade as Lydia spoke, though she did not regret what had been said. He had already made it clear that he did not think much of bluestockings and Lydia was simply repeating that back to him.

The Duke cleared his throat gruffly then gestured to Lady Markham. “I believe that it was you, Lady Markham, who challenged me to consider my opinions a little less and think on others a little more, to consider another perspective instead of believing that all I think and determine is correct. These last few days, I have been challenged to do so, for I have not only discovered that Mr. Adam Smith was not a gentleman, as I had considered, but a young lady! And I had never once considered that a possibility, for I inwardly believed that only a gentleman could write with that level of excellence.” He sighed and looked away again. “I confess that I have found it difficult to do such a thing as consider another perspective but given that I have no other choice but to accept the help of a bluestocking, I confess that I have become determined to do so.”

Lydia’s eyes rounded at his words, a little taken aback to hear that a gentleman, so firm and determined in his opinions, was now willing to take such a step back. “Goodness. That is… ” She did not hold back her surprise. “That is an excellent thing, Your Grace. And might I say, I am grateful to you for your decision not to tell the ton that it was I who wrote that article.”

A frown instantly tugged at the Duke’s forehead. “I would never have done such a thing, Lady Lydia. I know full well that it would have caused you difficulty and I would not have brought such a thing upon you.” His frown lifted just a little. “Might I also say that I have read your most recent articles and found them not only very well written but highly engaging. You write very well.”

Lydia blinked in surprise. “I thank you, Your Grace.” She glanced at Sophie, seeing the same astonishment in her expression also. Of all the changes in the Duke’s manner, this was the most surprising though his words warmed Lydia’s heart, making her settle into the Duke’s company all the more as the carriage continued to make its way through London.

“It was just here, Your Grace.” Lydia glanced up at him for a moment before beginning to search through the sheaves of papers. There were all manner of old circulatory papers and the like, some very dull indeed and some with only a little more interest. It took her a few minutes but she soon found it, lifting it carefully and handing it to the Duke.

He took it from her and read it, leaving Lydia to clasp her hands in front of her as she considered him. There was a muscle jumping in his jaw, a flash of anger in his eyes as he read the few short lines. It was just as she had written it in the article, though she had changed the words so that she used her own description and the like.

“It does not say who wrote this.”

“It does.” Standing on tiptoe, Lydia leaned against the Duke’s arm as she pointed to a small signature at the very bottom. “It says that it is written by Lord R.”

The Duke scowled down at the paper. “Lord R says nothing as to who it might have been. They are hiding their name, just as you did.”

Lydia nodded, still scrutinizing the paper. “They are, but I do wonder if someone at the time knew who Lord R was. It might have been meant to lend credibility to his writing?” When she looked up at the Duke again, he was gazing down into her face rather than at the paper and something shifted within her. A burst of heat in her stomach, a wave of crashing awareness that she stood closer to him than she had ever been with any gentleman and that, somehow, her hand was now resting on his arm.

She stepped back, swallowed hard, and then turned away. “I am sorry if it does not bring you any answers.”

“It does help a little.” The Duke set the papers back down and then rubbed one hand over his face, just as Lydia turned back to face him. “I have been waiting for my mother’s reply to my urgent letter, Lady Lydia. That is what prompted me to call upon you today for I received her reply only yesterday.”

“Oh?” Glancing over her shoulder to make sure that Sophie was still near to her, Lydia took a small step closer to the Duke so that he could speak to her without lifting his voice too high. “Might I be so bold as to ask what she said?”

He nodded. “It was in my mind to tell you, Lady Lydia, for if you are still willing to be of aid to me, then it is imperative that you know.” He let out a long sigh, his shoulders dropping a little. “My mother was forbidden to speak of the heirlooms. It was a greatly traumatizing experience for my father, for his carriage was stopped by a highwayman and he had to escape in fear for his life. The heirlooms were taken. This was back when I was only a boy, away at Eton.”

“Goodness,” Lydia whispered, one hand at her heart. “Then the story is true?”

With a nod, the Duke continued on. “My father’s driver – Stanley – was working alongside the highwayman, it seems. The highwayman knew that he was returning from London with the heirlooms, you understand, so the driver was the one who had told him such a thing.”

“But why?” Lydia asked, confused. “Why would the driver work with a highwayman? And how would they ever meet?”

“That is why my father did not say a word about the heirlooms and why he demanded my mother remain silent,” the Duke told her, lowering his head just a little as his eyes searched hers. “My father believed that someone close to him was the highwayman, though he could never prove who it was. That was why he remained silent. He did not want me to be always questioning, always looking as he had been doing. Nor did he want my opinions or thoughts of others to be clouded. Thus, all that was ever said to me was that they were lost.”

“It sounds to me as though your father was a very noble gentleman,” Lydia said, gently, seeing the pain that ripped through the Duke’s expression. He was not looking at her, his face screwed up, heavy shadows lingering in his eyes. “He did not want you to be troubled in any way. Mayhap he believed that the heirlooms were gone and that they could not be found again.”

The Duke glanced at her, then pulled his gaze away again. “Mayhap. Though I do wish he had shared his burden with me.”

“I can understand that.” A little hesitantly, Lydia put her hand on his arm for a brief moment – purposefully this time – and looked up into his face. “This must be troubling for you, Your Grace. I am truly sorry that I wrote as I did. If I had known it would cause you such pain, then I would never have done such a thing.”

The Duke glanced at her and then, giving her a second, longer look, smiled briefly. “I know you did not mean to do so. In a way, I am grateful to you for what you discovered. I have always wondered about the heirlooms, wondered what it is that happened to them.”

“And now you know.”

With a slight frown pulling at his forehead, the Duke hesitated, a shadow crossing his eyes. “I think that in that, I am not certain I agree, Lady Lydia. I might now be aware of the truth of what has happened to them, certainly, but that does not mean that I know precisely what took place.”

“But how can you know?” Lydia asked, not fully understanding what he meant. “It is so long in the past and with your father no longer here, then how can you find out the truth?”

The Duke sighed. “I do not know. But I am certain that I cannot let this rest. Indeed, it is taking a higher preference in my mind than anything else!”

This made Lydia’s eyebrows lift, surprised that the Duke was now speaking so openly with her. She knew that he was come to seek a bride, for all of London were aware of that fact, and yet, here he was, stating quite plainly that what he now had on his mind were the heirlooms rather than matrimony. That was a significant thing, was it not? Though she was not quite certain what she ought to say to that.

“There is something I have not told you as yet, Lady Lydia.” With a deep breath, the Duke lifted his chin a notch, his lips pressing tightly together for a moment before he spoke as if he was considering whether or not he ought to say such a thing as this. “My mother also stated in her letter that my father did, in fact, injure the highwayman. He struck him across the face though he was not certain as to where it struck.”

Lydia’s breath swirled in her chest as she caught her breath, her eyes rounding. “Then whoever it was will have a scar somewhere on their face!”

“Yes, exactly.” There came a quick flash into the Duke’s eyes as he looked at her, perhaps a little surprised with her understanding. “And if my father believed that it was someone close to him – a relative or a close friend – then I might, somehow, be able to determine who it is that now has my heirlooms.” He winced. “My mother gave me four names, though I am loathe to begin settling suspicion upon any.”

Lydia blinked quickly, taking in the Duke’s words. “You mean to say that your father had thoughts as to who it might be that had worked alongside his driver to capture the heirlooms?”

He nodded.

“Am I permitted to ask who they are?”

A slight twist of the Duke’s lips told her that her question was being considered, though mayhap he thought it a little impertinent, Lydia considered. She tipped her head, studying him, aware of just how little her dislike of him was present within her.

“You are certainly permitted to ask, Lady Lydia, though whether or not it would be wise for me to share it, I am not yet sure.” A small smile touched the corner of his mouth. “Let me think on it a little more before I answer you.”

Finding herself rather appreciative of his consideration and his desire to be thoughtful and careful, Lydia nodded. “But of course.”

“Thank you for showing me this.” His smile grew and he took a small step closer to her, leaning his head down just a little. “It seems as though I am still in need of your help, Lady Lydia. You have been able to find and discover things that I did not even know existed! It would be wise for me to ask you to continue in your desire to be of aid to me given how much success you have had thus far.” His eyes caught hers, an intensity in them now. “That is, if you are still willing.”

“Of course I am!” The words were given to him before she had even had time to think but Lydia was rather surprised at just how much she desired to do such a thing. “It is clear to me that this is of great sorrow to you, Your Grace. I should very much like to be of aid to you.”

“I am grateful. Truly. Especially since I have not spoken well either of or to you, Lady Lydia.” The Duke looked away, pushing one hand through his hair and letting it fall carelessly. “I have not thought well of bluestockings and I have made my feelings rather clear on that subject, have I not?” When Lydia nodded, he gave her a rueful smile. “You are bold enough to be honest with me, I see.”

“I do not think there is any point in either pretending that it is not as you say or that it is not as severe as you have said,” she answered, clearly. “Yes, you have made it plain that you think bluestockings ought to be shunned, in many ways, and that it is almost shameful for a young lady to be so.”

His hazel eyes flashed though he did not immediately respond, as if he had the urge to respond a little sharply but had chosen not to. “Indeed.” With a nod, he looked away. “But for you to offer me your assistance when I have spoken so says a good deal about your character, Lady Lydia, and I will not pretend that I am nothing other than grateful.”

She smiled then, a gentle relief in her heart that they were no longer at odds, no longer determined to fight back against each other. Instead, there seemed to be a sense of understanding there, one that was growing steadily and that was, to her mind, quite delightful. “I value that a great deal, Your Grace. Though, if I am to help you, then I shall need to know the names of those that your father considered responsible.”

It took the Duke a few moments to reply to her but when he did, it was with another heavy sigh. “And I shall, I swear to you,” he answered, “but in a day or two. I must take a little more time to think on it all and discard, mayhap, a name – or more than one – that I think could not possibly have done so.”

“Very well.” Lydia smiled up at him, her heart lifting. “Then I look forward to speaking to you again soon, Your Grace.”

The Duke tipped his head, his eyes considering as he looked back at her. It was as though he was looking at her for the very first time, as though he had seen something in her that he had not recognized before. “As do I, Lady Lydia,” he answered, a genuineness to his voice that made her smile. “And I assure you, our next conversation will come very soon indeed.”