Page 23 of The Truth about the Duke
“Of course.” Lady Judith looked away from Henry, reaching for her tea at the same time. “Are there any other hobbies that you enjoy, Your Grace, aside from hunting when you can spare the time?”
Henry frowned gently. “I suppose that I enjoy good company,” he replied, trying to think about what else it was that he enjoyed but, for whatever reason, struggling to find any clarity of thought. “Good conversation is of great importance to me.”
Lady Judith nodded and sipped at her tea but said nothing more. Henry licked his lips, wondering what he ought to say and berating himself silently for his lack of clarity when it came to finding words for this conversation. Ever since he had come to join Lady Judith and her mother, he had battled against his thoughts, feeling them pulling towards Lady Lydia with an ever increasing strength.
“I am sure that you must have been a little surprised at the article in The London Chronicle.”
Henry’s gaze shot back to Lady Judith as she set her teacup down. “I did not know that your family heirlooms had been stolen. That must be very distressing for you.”
“That is a story and nothing more,” Henry snapped, seeing Lady Judith’s eyes flare wide in surprise. “The family heirlooms were lost, they were not stolen.” He spoke more harshly than he had intended but the words came still, not held back as he might otherwise have done. His thoughts were frayed, his heart pounding as all that Lady Lydia had told him stormed back into his mind. “I know who wrote the article and they have assured me that it was nothing more than a story that they discovered themselves. It has no basis in truth and I am disappointed to hear that you believe it, Lady Judith.”
This made Lady Judith blink rapidly and Henry, seeing it, instantly closed his eyes, frustrated with himself for his quick words and harsh honesty. He had not needed to say such a thing.
“Your Grace.” Lady Kent’s voice was firm and as Henry looked back at her, he saw the heavy frown which drew a line down between her eyebrows. “My daughter was only trying toexpress her sorrow at the loss of your family heirlooms. Yes, it might well be a story but it was written in such a way as to make usallbelieve that it was the truth. I do not think that she needs to be berated in such a way.”
Henry opened his mouth to say that she was quite correct and to, thereafter, make an apology, only for Lady Judith to toss her head and look away from him, showing more spirit than he had ever seen.
“It appears to me that there is a distinct lack of manners and consideration in this conversation, Mama,” she said, now appearing to ignore Henry completely. “Might I be excused? I think I should like a few minutes to compose myself.”
Letting out a low groan at his foolishness, Henry made to rise to his feet but a knock at the door interrupted him.
“Lord Telford, my lady.”
Having been announced by the butler – and expected by Lady Judith given the immediate smile on her face and the way she practically jumped to her feet – Lord Telford stepped into the room and Henry forced himself to rise. It was more than evident to him now that Lady Judith had a distinct interest in Lord Telford and, evidently, no interest in him. And this despite the fact that he had a higher title, better standing, and, no doubt, a greater fortune!
Though it is not as though I have behaved as well as he.
“Lord Telford, howgoodto see you.” Lady Judith sent Henry a sidelong glance as she welcomed the gentleman. “I am already looking forward to our conversation, for I know it will be a very pleasing one indeed.”
Henry dropped his head and shut his eyes briefly, only to lift his head and force a smile. “I shall take my leave so that I do not interrupt this conversation,” he said, with a nod to Lady Kent who did not appear to be in the least bit sorry that he was to take his leave of them. “Good afternoon.”
“Good afternoon, Your Grace.”
With every step heavier than the last, Henry made his way from the room and then back towards his waiting carriage. He had made a fool of himself, that much was clear. He had spoken with harshness and inconsideration, reacting badly to her mention of the heirlooms. It was only because it had been so fresh in his mind that he had responded so, Henry told himself, though in his heart, he still felt a great weight of guilt.
I truly have behaved poorly.Sitting back in his carriage, Henry let out a long sigh and rested his head back against the squabs. As he did so, the many instances when he had spoken harshly to Lady Lydia came back to him, reminding him of just how many other times he had failed to behave as he ought. His lips pulled downwards, his guilt growing all the greater as he realized just how poorly he had met the standards required of a gentleman. Could he truly expect any young lady to match all of his requirements when it came to his consideration of a bride when he was himself so dreadful a failure in so many ways?
“I do not know what to do.” Speaking aloud, Henry lifted his head and looked out of the carriage window, trying to pluck out his thoughts one at a time. He had the requirements for a wife still sitting there, though quite how he was to seek courtship when he had nothing but the heirlooms in his mind, he did not know! Trying to make a match whilst attempting to find out the truth about the heirloomsandseeking to better himself and his character seemed to be a heavy weight indeed!
“Though I have Lady Lydia’s help in the former,” he muttered, sitting back again and letting his mouth curve in a rueful smile. That had been a most unexpected revelationandan unexpected offer of help and he had even surprised himself in accepting it!
Mayhap being willing to consider the opinions of others to be of value aside from just his own, as Lady Markham had stated tohim only a few days ago, might, in fact, bring him a little more clarity of mind and open his world up a little more.
The only thing Henry had to decide was whether he was truly willing to do such a thing or not.
Chapter Ten
“‘Thank you for your third article. It will be published within the sennight. We look forward to your fourth piece for us.’” So saying, Lydia looked back at her friend, her shoulders lifting and then falling again. “It seems as though The London Chronicle is willing to continue publishing what I write.”
Sophie smiled. “That is good, is it not?”
“It is.” Lydia looked away, then sighed. “It seems a strange thing even to admit but I have had my thoughts centered solely on the Duke of Melrose this last sennight.” She let out another sigh, frustrated with herself for having so much time given up to thinking about him. “It has been almost seven full days since we were last in company together, when he came to the bookshop and where I revealed the truth to him.”
“Something I still cannot quite believe that you did,” her friend interjected, a quiet smile on her lips. “You went against everything that you had already determined to do and found great courage to be truthful with him although he could have not only revealed you to thetonbut also railed at you loudly and publicly for what you had written!”
“But he did not,” Lydia answered. “And though he did speak to me once I had told him the truth, he has not come in search of me since. I thought he would.”
Sophie nodded. “As did I. I thought in his desperation to find out the truth about the heirlooms, he would have come in search of you.”
