Page 38 of Her Duke's Second Chance

Lionel was shaking his head. “No, no, no. You cannot decide to warp the truth in order to blame yourself. Her death was an accident, Robert. A tragic accident, yes, but an accident all the same.”

Robert clenched his jaw. “I cannot risk that again.”

“Then why did you marry the current duchess?”

Robert covered his face with his hands and shook his head. “You know full well that I ran. I ran for seven years trying to escape the guilt. Then my father died, and my grandmother fell ill, and I had no choice but to return. Shebeggedme, Lionel. She begged me to stay and have a family. Despite her constant pleading, it took me three years to break down my defenses and acquiesce.”

“And you went through the motions to find yourself a bride.”

Robert nodded. His mouth twisted into a sheepish smile. “And now I do not know what I am to do with her.”

“Over the course of the last year, I have had little opportunity to get to know Her Grace, but I understand the ladies of the ton speak highly of her. They say she is kind, patient, and friendly.”

Robert shrugged. “It is not as though I would care if she was rude and unfriendly to them. It would be more closely aligned with what the ton deserves.”

“Indeed,” Lionel said dryly. “My point is that she is a person, deserving to be judged on her own merits and not simply because she is not Angela. I think that is the cause of your inner turmoil.”

“Who said anything about inner turmoil?”

Lionel laughed. “I know you well, old chap. Just listening to your tale of woe provided me with enough clues. You encountered your wife in a situation where you were forced to deal with heras a human being. Now you cannot return to seeing her as some abstract thing you can simply ignore.”

Robert gave him a sidelong glance. “When did you get so wise?”

“I have always been wise.” Lionel clapped him on the shoulder companionably.

Robert snorted derisively. “Your Cambridge results would indicate otherwise.”

“Why you little—” Lionel began in a half-annoyed, half-amused tone, but was interrupted by another man’s voice.

“Lord Stanmore, Your Grace, fancy meeting you here,” the man proclaimed from behind Robert.

He turned to see another old schoolmate of theirs, Count Jakob Gerhardt, grinning at them both. “How serendipitous. I have been meaning to speak with you, Emberford.”

The duke gestured to the third armchair. “Have a seat, my lord.”

The German sat down as Lionel lifted a hand to summon the waiter.

“What did you mean to speak with me about?” Robert asked.

The count took a deep breath. “I have a business proposition for you. You know my family is in the import and export business. Not as extensive as your British East India company, but we are doing well. We wish to establish a real foothold in England, and I believe that your family would make an excellent partner.”

Robert raised an eyebrow. “That is flattering. What makes you think that we would make good business partners?”

“I have known you a long time, Emberford. I know you are an honorable man. Aside from that, your reputation as a shrewd businessman precedes you. You will forgive me for bringing it up. We Germans are not so hung up on being working men,” he grinned mischievously.

Robert nodded his head in acknowledgment. “Well, I thank you for the compliment, if that is what it was. More likely flattery designed to persuade me to deal with you. I am afraid you will still have to prove to me that your business is viable.”

The German’s smile widened. “You see, that is why I said to my father that we must speak with Emberford if we are to be a success.”

Robert cocked an eyebrow. “All right then. You can stop the flattery and give me the details instead.”

Count Gerhardt nodded, leaning forward towards Robert. “It is a remarkably simple idea. My family has a vast land holding, and we grow many items and rear many animals. We turn our pigs into fine meats and serve them alongside sauerkraut—doyou know it? Sauerkraut is good for soldiers at war. We wish to supply your army as they fight the French, but, of course, your government is reluctant to deal with us as foreigners. But if you are our partner…”

“Ah, so you want me to front you?”

“No, no. Not front us. Real partner. My father will be in London next week. Will you meet with him?”

Robert rubbed his chin and considered the Count’s proposal.

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