Page 17 of The Truth about the Duke
The unexpected nature of her conversation made Henry’s stomach twist sharply. “I beg your pardon?”
“She has told me of what you said to her yesterday, at Hyde Park,” Lady Markham continued, her eyes flashing. “Is it true that you stated her parents ought to be ashamed of her, merely because she did not show any sort of enjoyment at being in your company?”
A flush crept up Henry’s neck and into his face. “I do not think that my conversation with Lady Lydia is any of your concern, Lady Markham.”
“And I think it is.” With tenacity, Lady Markham tipped up her chin, narrowing her eyes just a little. “Lady Lydia is my dearest and closest friend and when I find out that a Duke has made her cry with his harsh words, I am forced to do something!”
She was crying?Shame burst like a torrent over Henry’s heart and he looked away, his face warm.
“You may not like the way that Lydia spoke to you, Your Grace, for no doubt, you expecteveryyoung lady to be filled with deference and delight at your company! However, that does not mean that you ought to speak with any sort of harshness towards her, does it? Or do you think that your standing means you can say what you please without hesitation?”
Henry shook his head. “No, I certainly do not think that.”
“Then might I suggest that you consider what I have said and, thereafter, make an apology if you feel as though it is merited?” Her eyes still glinting with clear upset and anger which, Henry knew, was directed solely at him, Lady Markham took a step back. “Lady Lydia is a very learned and passionate young lady and it is, to my mind, a great shame that her interests are not encouraged, simply because it is deemed incorrect for a young lady to have such passions.” She tilted her head a fraction, her eyes gleaming. “I wonder if your opinion of her mightchange, Your Grace, if you were to consider a perspective other than your own.”
A little irritated by Lady Markham’s forwardness and her pricking questions, Henry’s eyebrows fell heavily over his eyes. “And what do you mean by that?”
Lady Markham smiled but it held no warmth. “Only to say that to have such determined, fixed opinions means that you might miss out on a great deal, Your Grace. If you were truly to understand who Lydia is, then you might discover that while she is different from every other young lady in theton, she isdifferent from every other young lady in the ton –and that is a most remarkable thing.”
Leaving Henry with his head filled with her final words, Lady Markham turned on her heel and walked away from him, making Henry frown after her. Yes, he knew that Lady Lydia was unlike any other young lady in London but that was why he disliked her so, was it not?
Unless she is suggesting that my dislike is misplaced.
Still frowning, Henry rubbed one hand over his forehead, gesturing to a nearby footman to bring him a drink. He was not used to his opinions being challenged in such a way but perhaps he was wrong to be so stagnant.
And I was certainly wrong in how I spoke to Lady Lydia yesterday.Sighing inwardly, Henry shook his head.I shall have to find her and apologize.
“Ah, there you are. I did wonder if you were in hiding.”
Henry frowned as Lord Kendall came towards him. “Hiding?”
His friend nodded. “Yes. After what was written in The London Chronicle?”
A weight dropped into Henry’s stomach. “There was something in the Chronicle written about me?”
His friend’s eyebrows lifted. “You did not see it?”
“I did not.”
“Oh.” Lord Kendall shrugged and looked away. “It is nothing significant, of course.”
Henry grimaced. “You are going to have to tell me what was said.”
Lord Kendall glanced at him. “It was nothing of any importance. The writer has chosen to consider a certain area of England to write about and does so by not only mentioning the area itself and historical places of interest and the like but also a particular family. You were the chosen one for this article it seems.”
There were no family secrets that Henry was afraid would be revealed though all the same, a trickle of sweat ran down his back. “What was written about me?”
With a small shrug, Lord Kendall struggled to meet his gaze, telling Henry that there was more to this story than his friend wanted to mention.
“Kendall.”
With a long sigh, Lord Kendall glanced back at him and then looked away again. “There was some information about your late father, your mother and extended family as well as a little about your predecessors going back through history. That was interesting, of course, but I did not know the story about the stolen heirlooms. That was… difficult to read though the author did state that it was entirely whispers and nothing more.”
“Stolen heirlooms?”
Lord Kendall nodded, his eyes rounding. “You do not know the story?”
Panic gripped Henry as he looked into his friend’s face, filled with surprise, and felt fear shoot through him. “I must read this for myself.” Grabbing a footman, he demanded a copy of The London Chronicle, turning back to wait with Lord Kendall.Everything in him seemed to be strung tight, his whole body burning as he waited for the footman to bring him the paper.
