Chapter 40
Thomas tugged at his cravat. How did one precisely go about convincing a lady that they were indeed in love with you?
Especially when you were living a very different life than that lady planned?
What was it that made her love you? Was it your lack of fortune or the simpleness of your life?
If so, Thomas was prepared to give his dukedom to Jack.
Thomas ran a hand down his freshly shaved face and looked at his reflection in the mirror.
He was wearing his old clothes again. They fit far better than the livery he’d been squeezing into for these past months.
But he’d developed muscles he hadn’t had previously, so the clothing was still tighter than he expected it to be.
It was only one of the happy consequences of manual labor.
His eyes were clear, his brain unmuddled, and he had purpose to his future.
Thomas Monteclare felt more confident as this version of himself than he ever had before.
He didn’t want to wait to propose to her.
If her father died, that would mean a year of waiting.
He’d do it, but it would be torture. Then there was the thought in the back of his mind that Lady Lavender wouldn’t want to marry him.
Becoming a duchess was a far cry from the wallflower her parents had always intended for her.
She was capable of filling the role, but she may not want to.
His biggest concern, though, was that she wouldn’t want to marry him anymore because of all the lies that he’d allowed to remain between them these past months.
There was nothing he could do to change that now.
If she could forgive him—and that was a big if— Thomas wanted her to marry him because she loved him, not because it was what anyone else expected of her.
He picked up the copy of The History of Little Goody Two-Shoes, tucked it under his arm, and made his way to the breakfast room.
He filled a plate from the sideboard and sat at a table far finer than he had for a long time.
The room was bright and the food excellent, but eating alone was .
. . lonely. How had he never noticed before?
When Lady Lavender walked into the room, he stood up so quickly his chair clattered to the floor behind him.
A footman righted the offending piece of furniture before Thomas had turned around.
Not home for an entire day, and he was already useless.
He grimaced at the thought. “I apologize for my . . .”
Lady Lavender laughed. “Are you certain you are the lost duke? Or could you by chance be a pretender?”
He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. The question was lighthearted enough, but he knew she really wanted to know the answer. “I assure you, Lady Lavender. I am Thomas Monteclare, Duke of Fenleigh.”
She walked up to him slowly, as if she were afraid he’d run off. She reached up and ran the back of her hand across his freshly shaved jaw. “You look different without a beard.”
“Is it a good different?” his voice came out raspy at her touch.
She shrugged. “I like both versions of you.”
“Samuel ought to have allowed me to tell you who I was when he feigned my sickness.”
Her eyebrows pulled low. “You weren’t ill?”
“No,” Thomas motioned for her to take a seat.
“No, I shaved my face and intended to tell you who I was. Only, that was right when Lord Chilcott increased the amount he was willing to pay people for information on my whereabouts. They didn’t want me putting everyone in more danger.
” He rubbed his chin. “I hated it, but I believe they were correct.”
Lady Lavender nodded, obviously taking in the information. Thomas went back to the sideboard and filled a plate for her.
“So all those prayers really went toward you growing back your beard?”
Thomas felt burning at the back of his eyes. “You—” he cleared his throat. “You prayed for me?”
She smiled. “Of course I did. You were so . . . sick . . . I wasn’t allowed to see you. I assumed the worst.” She said it all with a laugh in her voice, but the truth of the worry lay behind her soft hazel eyes.
“I apologize for deceiving you. In every way. And for making you worry.”
She locked eyes with him. “You are forgiven. What book did you bring with you to breakfast?”
Thomas swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat at her forgiveness. He chuckled and pulled out The History of Little Goody Two-Shoes from beneath his arm. “I believe you’ll recognize this story.”
A smile shone in her eyes. “I do.”
“I’ve been helping you teach Jack to read using this.” He felt unaccountably nervous for his next admission. “I think I could make a difference by teaching others to read as well.”
“I have no doubt that you will.”
Thomas shook his head. “Your belief in me is more than I could wish for.”
“It is well deserved. Jack’s reading—and apparently writing—has improved immensely.” She shifted in her chair. “Forgive my impertinence. Might we begin anew? There is no one here to properly introduce us, but—” she stood and bobbed a curtsy. “My name is Lavender Gardner. How do you do?”
Thomas swallowed before he too, rose from his seat and bowed low over her hand.
“Lovely to meet you, Lady Lavender. I am Thomas Monteclare, Duke of Fenleigh. I believe I have some explaining to do.” He’d been worried that this would happen, that she wouldn’t know how to act around him.
He wasn’t looking forward to meeting her all over again.
Thomas Monteclare might be a duke, but his past decisions did nothing to recommend him to a woman as pure as Lavender Gardner.
What she might think of him once she knew that he was a waste of a human being before he’d met her.
But he refused to lie to her again. “I have been honest with you, if not complete, when I spoke to you about the Duke of Fenleigh. No, I was not his servant. But the things I told you about him were real.”
“You have a propensity to be drunk?”
“Not anymore, but I did.”
Lady Lavender squinted her eyes at him. “You said the duke was lost.”
“I was. I might still be. But I’ve found parts of myself that I needed.
” He held up the book again. “I found a purpose to my existence. I learned that I want to use my position to conduct change where change is needed. I’ve found clarity with time away from drinking, and now I find it in the garden.
I found trust in the people I choose to surround myself with.
” He placed the book on the table and walked around the corner so that he might take her hand in his.
“I found a woman who has driven me to distraction from the first time I saw her, and my feelings have only increased with each passing moment spent with her.”
Lavender studied his face with the intensity of a painter preparing to make a pivotal stroke of the brush. Then she blinked her eyes and took a small step back. “Is Jack still here? We have much to do to clear your name.”
Thomas winced at the change in topic. He wanted to lay his sins before her, show her precisely who he was and then have her make sense of the man he’d become. If anyone could convince him that he’d changed, it would be her. But apparently that time was not now.
He didn’t blame her. He needed to prove to himself that he was able to keep the virtues he’d learned now that he was thrust back into the life of a duke. “Yes, Jack is still here. But I believe he is preparing to leave soon.”
Lavender looked beyond Thomas to the footman waiting at the edge of the room. “Would you please call for Jack?”
“Certainly, my lady.”
Once the man had left the room, Lavender began to pace. “We’ll need to pack quickly, but we are going back to London with Jack.”
Thomas didn’t miss that she said the word we. He felt himself nodding along with her. “I’ll follow you anywhere. Do you know what we will do?”
Lavender tipped her head back and forth as if she were uncertain.
“I have full confidence that we can have a course of action by the time we arrive. But I fear that once word gets out that you’ve returned home, there might be some people who come in search of you here that would make it unwise for us to remain unprotected. ”
An hour later, Thomas found himself sitting across from Lady Lavender and her maid in a carriage. Jack was driving them all back to London. Lady Lavender situated herself with a stack of books at her feet. Her maid picked one up, opened to the first page, and pointedly ignored the two of them.
“I thought the books would be for you, my lady.” Thomas smiled at Lady Lavender.
“They will be if your company proves to be boorish.”
Thomas laughed. “I can assure you we will have enough to consult about to keep us company for far longer than a day’s ride.”
“You’d best begin at your childhood then.” She nodded firmly.
They talked for hours about their childhoods, their families, and their educations.
More than one of them shed tears when Thomas told her about the tragic carriage accident that ended up taking his father’s life.
Up until that accident, Thomas’s life was nothing to be ashamed of—it had been as normal as life could be for a child of privilege.
The memory of his duplicitous uncle was mortifying.
But Lady Lavender was understanding with Thomas’s reaction.
Just speaking his feelings to her healed a part of him he didn’t realize needed to be healed.
She took the most tender moments of his life—the times that had shaped his most terrible attributes—and gave them unflinching compassion.
She told him of her relationship with Mr. Lanscombe, and the tale made Thomas’s blood boil.
How could that spineless vermin take advantage of a lady as sweet and gentle as Lavender?
That topic led to her admitting that when she came to London with the purpose of needing to marry someone quickly in order to bring her father peace, she’d been trying not to find love.
It was a perfect moment for Thomas to ask her to marry him, but he didn’t take it—he wouldn’t take advantage of her desperation.
“When we get to the House of Lords, the session will be just starting,” he said, looking at his pocket watch.
Lavender nodded. “Good, you can make a dramatic entrance, Miriam would be proud.”
Thomas chuckled at her confidence in the situation. “I hope my peers are in a friendly mood.” Though he highly doubted that his cousin, Lord Chilcott would fall into that group. “What do you propose I say to them?”
“I think you ought to tell them the truth of what has happened in your life these past months. Tell them you were tired of the political games and mockery, that you needed some quiet to clear your head. You can tell them the truth, Thomas. Even if they don’t like it, they can’t fault your honesty.”
Honesty. It was important to this vivacious woman across from him. Until last night, he’d been lying to her. “Lavender, I will do as you say. But more than anyone else, it is your opinion I seek to win. Is there any way you can forgive me for deceiving you?”
She reached across the carriage and took his hand in hers.
“Thomas, you saw me when I was invisible, listened to me when it wasn’t required of you, and confided in me even though it cost you your pride.
I will always be grateful to you for the good man you are, for restoring my faith in gentlemen. Of course I have forgiven you.”
Courage settled into Thomas’s bones at her words.
He was about to face the consequences of his actions, and he prayed that he came out the other side of the battle with his head .
. . literally. Treason was not a crime the courts took lightly.
If he was blessed to succeed, he had far greater goals for Lavender Gardner than obtaining her forgiveness.
The carriage slowed to a stop. He knelt on the floor of the conveyance and cupped Lavender’s face in his hands. “If the worst should occur, I need you to know that I will only see your face at the end. It is the most lovely image I have ever beheld.”
Tears welled in Lavender’s eyes. “Don’t say things like that.” Her voice caught, and she covered her mouth with a gloved hand.
Thomas allowed his hands to drop from her cheeks and ran the pad of his thumb along the top of the scars that peeked out from the top of her long gloves.
A surge of protectiveness overcame him. “I will fight to come back to you, love.” He kissed her perfect lips once for strength, and lighted from the carriage before he could put off the inevitable any longer.