Lavender’s Lost Duke (Gardner Family Romance #3)

1. Chapter 1

Lavender finished tying the bow on the brown paper package and gave the gift an assessing eye.

Was it too much to have used a lavender ribbon?

Truthfully, it looked lovely, but she didn’t want to make a cake of herself either.

She shook her head slightly. She’d loved Mr. Lanscombe for these past three years, and Mr. Lanscombe loved her—he’d said as much a handful of times.

He wouldn’t mind the affectation of the package.

Butterflies took up residence beneath her sternum.

How could she possibly wait until tonight?

She tucked the heavy parcel into a drawer in her dressing table.

Laughter and music filled the corridor as she walked to the drawing room, the noise so foreign to the home that Lavender worried it would upset her mother.

After peeking in and seeing that her mother was, indeed, absent, Lavender stepped inside and closed the door behind her so that the merriment would last even longer.

Should her mother come around, the mood would most certainly shift more somber.

No. Shift was too light a word. The mood would collapse entirely. Such was the power of the Countess Gardner.

Lavender’s elder sister Rose, who was expecting her second child, was playing God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen on the pianoforte.

Her husband, Frederick, was singing alongside in his rich baritone.

Four-year-old Scarlett was running in circles, waving a stick with jewel-colored ribbons tied to the end behind her.

The entire Gardner family was at home this Christmas season, as was the tradition. She would do anything for them—to keep them all happy and joyful while together.

Besides, all the lively noise covered the constant sound of her father’s hacking coughs.

After Lavender watched her family from the side of the room for a few minutes, she was spotted by Scarlett, who ran directly to her. Lavender scooped the little girl up and only just avoided being poked in the eye with the flailing stick.

“Look what Aunt Bell made me for Christmas!” Scarlett waved the stick so that the bundle of ribbons cascaded all about.

“That is a lovely gift.” Lavender smiled at her niece. “Are you telling me you like your stick better than the book I bought you?”

Scarlett’s eyes went wide. “It’s not a stick. It’s a fairy wand.”

Lavender laughed. That was answer enough for her. She was the second-place aunt after all. Bell, the Gardner sister just older than Lavender, had a special way with children, despite not having any of her own. “It is an incredible fairy wand.”

“And my mum made daddy a flower crown, but he won’t keep it on.”

That particular gift wouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone in the Gardner family.

Rose gave Frederick a floral crown every year.

Lavender was certain there was a story behind it, but she’d never asked the details.

“Well,” Lavender set Scarlett down again, “he might need some encouragement from your fairy wand.”

Her niece’s face lit up in a brilliant smile as she dashed across the room, ribbons flailing behind her like the flame of a comet.

Lavender straightened her pale pink day dress and tucked a wayward curl back into its pin.

Even the shortest of interactions with her energetic niece usually left her looking worse for wear.

Lavender’s unruly curls were always coming loose—it was the curse of her being so different from her sisters.

Instead of the deep, rich brown locks they both had, Lavender was endowed with light-brown, excessively curly hair.

She may have gotten that trait from her father, but she wouldn’t know, as he was bald now.

Hopefully, she wouldn’t inherit that trait as well.

The hubbub of the room enveloped Lavender as she watched Rose and her family tease and play with each other, but after only a quarter of an hour, the loneliness that too often accompanied a full room settled upon Lavender’s shoulders. It was time she left.

The library called to her, as it so often did.

Before long, she was curled up in the back corner of the room with an astronomy book, inspired by thoughts of her sweet niece earlier.

It was fascinating, the way the earth rotated and how people were able to learn to use the stars to find their direction.

Perhaps Lavender would make her own star map.

She spent enough time outdoors in the night that it would be an easy enough task to accomplish.

Mary, the maid, peeked into the room. “Lady Lavender, you have a visitor.”

Lavender stretched her arms above her head. She’d lost track of the time. “I do? Who is it?”

“Mr. Lanscombe, my lady. I’ve left him in the front parlor.” Mary dipped a curtsy.

All at once, Lavender’s heart took off like a herd of horses at the Ascot races. “Perfect,” she squeaked. “Would you tell him I’ll join him in a couple minutes?”

“Of course.” Mary backed out of the room.

Lavender stood and took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

It was time to exchange gifts.

But Mr. Lanscombe was early. Until now, their gift giving had always been done in secret.

A smile split Lavender’s face. In mere minutes, she would finally be engaged.

There would be no more waiting and pining away while Mr. Lanscombe sorted out their future.

Three years had been time enough and then some.

Lavender quietly retrieved the carefully wrapped parcel from her room, hitching up the hem of her long glove on her left arm in an attempt to hide her scars fully as they always seemed to make Mr. Lanscombe a little uncomfortable.

Pressing the gift to her chest, she entered the front parlor, her knees only slightly trembling.

Mr. Lanscombe’s back was to her, his broad shoulders pulled back and his blonde hair styled meticulously to perfection. Although she’d known him since they were both children, he was certainly not a child anymore.

He turned when he heard her enter. “Lady Lavender,” he bowed deeply, “it’s only been six days since I’ve seen you, and you are more lovely than I recalled.”

“Mr. Lanscombe.” Lavender curtseyed. “I’m so glad you’ve come.

” She took measured steps so that they were near enough to whisper.

“I admit I was surprised that you came to exchange gifts now. I expected you to come to the garden tonight. But I’m glad you have come; I’ve been so excited to give you my gift. ”

His blue eyes pulled wide. “Oh, oh, of course.” He put a hand on Lavender’s elbow and smiled.

Her heart beat erratically in her chest, the tension within her body building every moment. She held out the package with heat in her cheeks. “This is for you.”

Mr. Lanscombe guided her to the sofa, and they sat with their legs pressed together. “Thank you, darling.” He winked at her. “Only, I didn’t come today to exchange gifts.”

Lavender’s cheeks heated for a very different reason. She looked toward the rug, at a loss for words.

“I have one, of course,” Mr. Lanscombe added, hastily. “Only, I was going to bring it tonight, like we usually do.”

“Of course. How silly of me,” Lavender pulled the parcel to her chest once again. “I’ll just bring this to you later on.”

“No, no, don’t do that. This is just right.” He looked around the empty room and at the open doorway. “It is quite cozy here. Your family is all distracted, and we get to be together.”

Lavender looked into his blue eyes, hope filling her chest once again. “You’re right. Now,” she straightened her skirts, “what brought you here this afternoon?”

Mr. Lanscombe set his large hand atop of Lavender’s own and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I can’t think about that when there is this perfect package between us. Might I open it now?”

Lavender hesitated. It felt odd to give him the gift when it wasn’t an exchange. But this way she wouldn’t have to think about his reaction all day long. She handed him the package.

“My, it’s heavier than I expected.” Mr. Lanscombe fingered the lavender ribbon. “You’ve wrapped this with no small amount of care.”

She shrugged as if her wrapping wasn’t something she’d questioned just this morning. There was nothing for it now. “Perhaps you ought to open it.”

Mr. Lanscombe removed his gloves—unknowingly making Lavender jealous of the way he freely did so—untied the ribbon and tucked it carefully into his jacket pocket. As he began to unfold the paper, Lavender’s stomach tightened. What would he think?

The paper fell to the floor and Mr. Lanscombe turned over the book to see the title. “A Bible?” Confusion and surprise colored his voice.

Lavender felt as though she would catch fire. “A family bible. I thought it might be useful.” She stared at the leather-bound book, hoping he would say something . . . anything.

He cleared his throat. “I am speechless. You always . . . you always seem to know precisely the right gift to give a person.”

The tightness that had filled Lavender’s stomach dissipated all at once, like sugar disappearing in a hot cup of tea, and she felt herself smiling like a fool.

She’d tried to think of a gift that would let Mr. Lanscombe know what he meant to her—that she was prepared to weld her life with his, that she didn’t mind that he was only the second son of an unwealthy gentleman.

All the details of how they would live would fall into place once they were able to converse freely.

This gift was perfect—a bible to keep track of their future family and posterity.

“How did you know I was planning to find a wife?” Mr. Lanscombe asked, tugging at his collar.

Lavender laughed. “I suppose it was a lucky guess.” She nudged his shoulder with her own in an attempt to lessen his nerves.

“You guessed that I am about to leave for London to find a bride?”

The laugh fell from Lavender’s lips. “What?”

“My father is sending me to London next week to find a wife. He wants to see me settled down and to give him grandchildren.”