Chapter 25
The days that followed Roderick’s brother’s arrival were, blessedly, calm. Lord Harcourt had made himself at home in Briarwood Hall, taking the time to get to know Cecily, able to throw barbs right back at Lavinia’s father when needed, and exchanging brief but polite words with Lavinia.
She was finding that she did not mind the man nearly as much as she minded the duke. Perhaps he was the better brother. Perhaps he had not yet had enough time to show his true colors.
Toward the end of the week, the village started its annual autumn fair.
“We are going, are we not, Lavinia?” Cecily asked over breakfast. Lavinia hesitated. She had not been out in the village since she embarrassed herself at the market.
“I—”
“I should think it would be lovely to go to the fair,” their father interrupted.
“I do not believe the question was aimed at you,” Lord Harcourt commented, buttering his bread.
“I am their father; I can speak when I wish to,” he said, glaring at the lord.
“It is still impolite to speak over a lady,” Lord Harcourt replied, sipping his tea. He looked over at Lavinia. She nodded and took a breath.
“I suppose we could,” Lavinia replied. “But I do not wish to stay for long.”
“That is fine,” Cecily beamed. “We can simply visit, enjoy some of the food. Do you think Honora and Temperance will be there?”
“Almost certainly,” Lavinia replied with a nod. Cecily beamed, drinking her tea as fast as she could in hopes of leaving quickly.
***
The village was crowded. That was the thing Lavinia was most nervous about.
She had enjoyed the trees lined with lanterns, the ribbons tied to branches in autumn colors, and the music that had been drifting through the air.
But the closeness of the crowd? The uncomfortable heat of the sheer amount of people around them?
The stares and whispers that came her way? She disliked that.
The town square had been decorated for couples to dance. Lavinia watched them for a moment, her mind drifting back to the assembly ball where she had danced with the duke.
“Lavinia! Cecily!” Honora called out. Lavinia almost melted with relief as she glanced at her friends near the cider stand. Honora bounced on her heels, excited by something. Temperance stood beside her, a calm smile on her face.
“There you both are!” Honora said. “You must tell me, has everything gone well since our talk with Mr. Thornbury?”
“Yes, Lavinia, how have things at the estate been?” Temperance asked.
“As well as they could have,” Lavinia began, leaning in so only they would hear her. “We have spent the last few days looking through the documents and letters the late duke left behind.”
“We?” Temperance asked with a raised eyebrow.
“The duke and I,” Lavinia said.
“And what have you found?” Honora asked.
“We have enough evidence of previous debts, cruelty, loose morals, corruption… At this point I have enough that even if I had done something, I am not certain anyone would blame me.”
“Do not say that too loudly,” Temperance hissed.
“I am just speaking the truth,” Lavinia defended.
“Even if that is so, I do not want you getting hurt before you have the chance to share it all,” Temperance continued, squeezing Lavinia’s shoulder protectively. “Please, do not do anything to put yourself in danger when you are so close to revealing it all.”
“I will not,” Lavinia said softly.
“And how are things with the duke?” Honora asked. Lavinia shifted uncomfortably.
“We speak little beyond what is necessary,” Lavinia admitted. “I am attempting to soften toward him, though. He has been useful…”
“You would not soften after what he did to you without good cause,” Temperance said with a grin.
“It is not like that,” Lavinia sighed.
“Is it not?” Honora pressed.
Lavinia opened her mouth to defend herself but closed it quickly. She could see that her friends would not let it go. Worse still, if she tried to defend her words, she would have to confront her true feelings for the duke.
Honora gasped. “I almost forgot! I have news!” she beamed. “Mr. Whitcombe has formally asked to court me. It is all but official!”
“Oh, my word!” Temperance cried out, pulling Honora into her arms and spinning her around. “Congratulations!”
“Congratulations, Honora,” Lavinia said, her voice warm, though her chest tightened. She was pleased for her friend but could not help the flicker of jealousy that surfaced How she wished she could choose her fate as freely as her friend..
The music near the square shifted from a waltz to a country dance. Lavinia glanced over, trying to calm herself.
“Your Grace,” Lord Casterleigh greeted. Cecily gasped, startled by the lord’s sudden appearance at her sister’s side. “May I have this dance?”
Lavinia looked up at the lord. The stubbornness in her wanted to tell him to leave her be. She did not want to dance with him.
However, she needed to make prudent decisions for herself.
“Of course,” she said, taking his hand. He smiled warmly, walking her toward the square. He led her through the movements, guiding her steps, making sure she never had to choose or question anything.
“You are looking well today,” he said.
“I am feeling well, thank you,” she said.
“That is good,” he said warmly. “I was ever so worried after the other day.”
“I am glad that you care about me so,” she said. “But I assure you, I am fine.”
“Excellent,” he said, pulling her little closer. Lavinia’s eyes widened, and her mouth opened to speak, only to hear another couple apologizing for almost dancing into them both.
Lavinia looked up, unable to chastise him.
“Some people do not know where they are going, it would seem,” he said with an easy laugh.
“It would seem so,” she agreed.
“I am glad I was able to look out for you,” he added.
“As am I,” Lavinia nodded. “You can let go of me now.”
“I can,” he agreed with a chuckle, but he did not release his grip. “But I wish to speak to you. Privately. About our future. Perhaps at the ball at Wycliffe Manor in a few days?” he asked before leaning in slightly.
“The rumors appear to be intensifying, and it pains me ever so much to hear such things. If you were my wife, no one would dare whisper about you. They would not dare to stare at you with contempt. I would protect you from it all, I swear to you, I would.”
He finally pulled back, looking at her with a sympathetic smile. Lavinia met his gaze, searching the steady, certain man who continually offered her safety. It was everything the practical part of her knew she desperately needed. It was a future she could control.
“Yes,” she said softly. “I would be happy to speak with you about such things.
I could find happiness at his side.
Besides, he has been nothing but kind and attentive to me since we reconnected.
I have no reason to doubt him.
He has changed. He is honest with me.
Now is not the time to look for the love and passion that is only between the pages of novels. I do not need love. I need safety and comfort.
Soon, the dance came to an end. The pair bowed to each other, and Lord Casterleigh started to walk her back to where her friends were standing. Cecily gave her a nervous look, and it was clear why as they approached.
Their father had appeared.
He was beaming with pride, giving Lavinia an approving look that churned her stomach.
When Lord Casterleigh had left to speak with an acquaintance nearby, the baron pulled Lavinia aside.
“Lord Casterleigh seems like a man who knows what he wants,” her father commented.
“I am afraid I am in need of refreshment,” she said, pushing past her father and heading for the table.
“Wh—Lavinia!” he called after her, but did not turn, moving toward a quieter part of the fair, near the edges of the crowd.
She took a deep breath, practically melting into the tree she was standing in front of.
She watched as people moved around each booth, enjoying the fair.
Her eyes snagged onto a pair of women passing the refreshments table.
One of them looked at her, leaning down to her friend and whispering.
She could not hear the totality of their conversation, but she heard enough to understand what was happening.
“The duchess… wedding night… killed…”
The two women glanced at Lavinia again andthen raced away once they realized that she was watching them.
Even here I cannot escape these whispers.
“There you are,” a voice called her. She startled, free of her thoughts, and looked up just as Lord Harcourt appeared at her side, two tankards of cider in his hands. He handed one to her, and she took it nervously.
“I thought you could use a moment away from admirers and relatives,” he said gently.
“You have no idea how correct you are,” she sighed and took a sip of the cider, letting the warm liquid settle over her. “I have something I wish to ask you.”
“You may ask me anything,” he said, taking a drink from the tankard.
“What exactly has your brother said to you about me?” she asked, watching him cautiously. He chuckled.
“He has said you have excellent taste in enemies, and terrible taste in decorations.” “I have seen some of the rooms that you decorated, but my brother refused to elaborate.”
“Of course he has,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“He has, however, said that you once threatened him with a letter opener,” Lord Harcourt said with a nod. “Which is not a small feat. He has never been threatened before, so for him to feel threatened by a woman with a letter opener is rather impressive.”
Lavinia burst out laughing, quickly covering her mouth. She could feel him watching her, as if he was attempting to read her.
“I must be honest with you about something,” he continued.
“What is that?” she asked.
“My brother is terrible at saying what he means.” He took another sip of cider.
“But I have known him all my life, and I have never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. I am not attempting to absolve him of his foolishness. I am simply trying to explain some of the strange behaviors you will have seen from him in your time cohabiting.”
Lavinia froze, suddenly stunned. Lord Harcourt looked down at her.
“I am afraid I may have said too much,” he chuckled. “I will be off now.”
Lord Harcourt bowed quickly before walking away, disappearing into the crowd.
Lavinia watched him, the words echoing through her mind.
Why should I be swayed by his words?
Lavinia looked down at her tankard, her reflection looking back at her in the orang liquid.
That is part of the problem. The duke never spoke to me.
He acted. He arranged my marriage to another man behind my back.
He does not want me. If he does, he will not say so.
Lord Casterleigh says what he means. His actions align with his words.
That is worth more than unintelligible looks, is it not?
“You are deep in thought,” the duke said, approaching her.
“I have much to think on,” she replied.
“Well, may I interrupt those thoughts, and ask you to dance with me?”
She looked up at him, studying his face for a moment, aware that she should say no. She should leave…
“I will,” she said, taking his hand.
He walked her back toward the square, and they danced through the next set.
Neither of them spoke as they danced around the square. His presence was calm and steady, moving her through the dance without needing to offer direction. His eyes stilled on her face.
It was hard not to consider what had changed between them over the last few days.
The betrayal, the arguments, the documents they had been reading together, and the shared wounds his father had left.
Understanding had grown between them. Then, her thoughts shifted to her father’s expectations and the whispers of the town; Lord Casterleigh’s request to speak to her privately about their future.
She looked around the room. Her father was watching her carefully. Lord Casterleigh was close to him, watching as well. The wind around them suddenly seemed hot, not cool like it had been moments before. She spotted Lord Harcourt next, his brows furrowing in concern.
The faces of the crowd started to blur together as she spun. Her corset felt too tight. She had not realized how fast her breath was coming. The lanterns blurred and swam through her vision.
“Lavinia?” someone from the sidelines called. Cecily? No. Honora?
The music got louder; the fiddles seemed to grate, the flute suddenly too shrill.
“Stop,” she whispered.
“Miss Lavinia?” the duke spoke gently.
Lavinia stumbled, falling into him. He held her tightly as her world tilted sideways before giving way to darkness.
“Lavinia!”
“Lavinia?”
“What happened?”
“I do not know.”
“Come on, Lavinia, wake up…”
Lavinia stirred, the voices sounding distant and strange.
“She will awaken soon.”
“We need a physician!”
“Lavinia.”
Her eyes finally fluttered open. Slowly, she became aware of the cool bench underneath her, the presence of people looking down at her.
Cecily stood over her sister, her face pale with worry.
Lavinia noticed how Cecily appeared fuzzy at the edges.
Honora was fanning Lavinia, as Temperance held her hand.
Lavinia attempted to focus on them, but her vision would not cooperate.
“Take a deep breath,” the duke instructed. Her eyes followed the direction of his voice. He knelt next to her, his face drawn with worry, and she realized his was the only face that she could see clearly. “Can you hear me?”
Lavinia nodded weakly. He let out a long sigh of relief.
“That is good. You fainted. You are safe,” he explained.
“What happened?” her father shouted, pushing toward them. Lord Casterleigh arrived behind him, looking incredibly concerned. Lord Harcourt was just behind them.
“We need to take her home,” Cecily said.
“I agree,” the duke added, moving to help her stand. “I can take her home.”
“Absolutely not,” Lavinia’s father hissed. “Lord Casterleigh should be the one to see her home!”
The duke did not let go of Lavinia. He kept his hand at her elbow, steady and firm as he walked her back to the carriage. Cecily raced after them.
Lavinia put her head in her hands as they sat down in the carriage, too exhausted to comment on what had just happened.
Her heart thudded against her chest.
“We will get the physician as soon as we are home,” the duke said softly. Lavinia nodded and looked up at him. Despite everything that had happened between them, he felt like the only solid thing in her rapidly spinning world.