Page 38 of The Duke and the Scarred Bride

They ate the pudding in silence, but she couldn’t help but feel that the air was charged with things neither of them wanted to say, so she decided to start on neutral ground. She had taken time to observe the estate that was now hers by extension, and she had a lot to discuss with him.

“I was impressed by how well-kept the gardens are,” she admitted. “Considering the few servants we have, it should have been overgrown. It certainly appears to be in much better shape than the rest of the manor.”

“I owe that to Mrs. Owens,” Percival said around a mouthful of pudding. “She loves gardening and pulls Tobias along when she has the time.”

Louisa giggled, picturing the kindly butler working outdoors. She had noticed the cordial air between the two of them. “She does a mighty fine job.”

“I will relay your compliments.”

“Have you written to any contractors yet?” she asked, swallowing the bite she had taken.

“Not yet,” he confessed. “I have been quite occupied trying to investigate an entry in my brother’s journal.”

Louisa frowned at him. She was surprised by his admission, even more than the fact that he didn’t consider repairing his home anurgent matter. She had thought the former Duke’s death a closed case and wondered why Percival was still looking into it.

“What did the entry say?” she asked curiously.

She didn’t really expect him to answer but asked if only to test if he could trust her with something that important to him.

“Michael noted down that he was going to sail to the Continent to look for me,” he began. “And that is rather strange because he had no reason to. I had written to him constantly so he would know I lived. There was no reason for him to leave the estate and try to find me.”

She frowned, vaguely remembering the rumour that he had passed, but it had been fleeting and was quickly overshadowed by news of his brother’s demise. For a short while, it was rumoured that the title would be absorbed by the Crown, but Percival had arrived shortly after to claim it.

“I remember hearing a rumour like that once,” she said. “It was shortly before your brother’s death was announced.”

He looked thoughtful.

“Tell me everything you remember,” he demanded, sitting up.

She didn’t mind his commanding tone, but she wondered why he was so interested in her answer.

“It started so oddly. I heard it first at the Withers’ ball, but I can’t remember who told me, and shortly after, we noticed that your brother started drinking heavily. We excused it as him being in mourning, so it was rather odd when you resurfaced after he passed.”

Percival looked lost in thought for a moment, and she wondered if perhaps what she had said would help him come to terms with his brother’s demise.

Grief radiated from him in waves that made her stomach twist, and she understood that they had been close. If anything happened to any one of her sisters, she knew it would take its toll on her. Her hand itched to cover his if only to give him comfort, but she didn’t think he would appreciate the gesture.

“Who would start such rumours?” she asked.

“I will look into it,” he said, finally looking at her. There was still a puzzled look in his eyes, and she felt a pang of sympathy at the sight. “I thank you for your help.”

“You are welcome, but are you sure you do not need any help?” she asked. “I can understand if you’re finding it difficult to accept the circumstances of your brother’s death. If you want to talk about it?—”

“I don’t think this was included in our bargain,wife,” he reminded her coolly, but she saw a shadow of grief cross his features. “If you want to spend more time with me, you do not have to use such means. You could just ask.”

She shook her head at him, seeing beyond the mask he wore. “I assure you,husband,if that were my goal, I would not stoop to using such dubious means,” she told him, wrinkling her nose. “I only meant to help.”

“And I am grateful, but I do not need it,” he insisted. “This is no matter to bother your pretty head with.”

She watched him, noting the slight tension in his posture and the way the mirth in his words didn’t reach his eyes. She debated whether to press him or concede and decided on the latter.

She gave him a pointed look. “That doesn’t mean I won’t expect you to inform me once you do discover something.”

He nodded, and she doubted strongly that he would tell her anything if and when he did discover something.

“You should retire to bed now.” He smiled. “You have a full day of organizing and terrorizing the staff ahead of you tomorrow.”

She rolled her eyes at him and rose from her seat, relishing the way his eyes roamed over her again. “Indeed, I do.”

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