Page 25 of The Truth about the Duke
“Thank you for joining me.” The Duke’s hazel eyes gazed back into Lydia’s, never once turning to Sophie as the carriage remained still, waiting for the Duke’s direction as to where they were to go. “I presume that your friend knows all?”
“Yes, I do,” Sophie spoke smartly, ignoring the Duke’s frown. “I am present, Your Grace, and you can speak to me directly.”
Much to Lydia’s surprise, the Duke did not state that he had done nothing wrong nor berate Lady Markham for her forwardness. Instead, he nodded, his jaw tightening for just a moment.
“You are quite correct, Lady Markham. I should have addressed you directly.” He offered a thin smile. “Forgive me. My thoughts have been a little tormented of late and I am not as genteel as I ought to be.”
Sophie’s eyebrows lifted, as did Lydia’s. She had never heard him speak in such a way before, though he had apologized tohersome time ago, she recalled. But there was a gentleness of manner now, a quick awareness that he was not as he ought to be and his willingness to admit it outright was quite refreshing.
“Lady Lydia,” he continued, turning his attention again to her. “I hope that you might still be willing to show me where you found this story?”
She nodded. “Of course. It is in Fellows’ Circulating Library.”
“Then there we shall go.” It took the Duke a few moments to tell the driver where to direct the carriage but after that, he sat back in his seat and, much to Lydia’s surprise, smiled at her. It was the first genuine smile he had ever offered her and, seeing it, Lydia felt her heart lift. There was a kindness in his smile, something that lit his expression with a brightness that hadn’t been there before in any prior conversations. It was as if, in speaking with her and in finding where they were to go, he now felt a new sense of relief and mayhap, even a resolve.
“I have not often been to the library.” The Duke glanced away from her. “I presume you have been there many a time?”
“When I can, yes.” Lydia smiled at Sophie. “I have Lady Markham to attend with me, which has made things a good deal easier since neither my mother nor father would permit me to go.”
“Though I have heard it can often be seen as a social setting?” With a question dancing in his eyes, the Duke looked back towards her. “They would not be willing for you to attend even then?”
Lydia shook her head, a sadness touching her heart. “Even still, Your Grace. They know very well that I do not delight in novels or gossip. Instead, I lend myself to weightier things, to learning and to study and that is not something that they encourage in the least. Though I am sure you can understand that, given that you agree with them.”
The light that had been in the Duke’s expression slowly began to fade as Lydia spoke, though she did not regret what had been said. He had already made it clear that he did not think much of bluestockings and Lydia was simply repeating that back to him.
The Duke cleared his throat gruffly then gestured to Lady Markham. “I believe that it was you, Lady Markham, who challenged me to consider my opinions a little less and think on others a little more, to consider another perspective instead of believing that all I think and determine is correct. These last few days, I have been challenged to do so, for I have not only discovered that Mr. Adam Smith was not a gentleman, as I had considered, but a young lady! And I had never once considered that a possibility, for I inwardly believed that only a gentleman could write with that level of excellence.” He sighed and looked away again. “I confess that I have found it difficult to do such a thing as consider another perspective but given that I have noother choicebutto accept the help of a bluestocking, I confess that I have become determined to do so.”
Lydia’s eyes rounded at his words, a little taken aback to hear that a gentleman, so firm and determined in his opinions, was now willing to take such a step back. “Goodness. That is… ” She did not hold back her surprise. “That is an excellent thing, Your Grace. And might I say, I am grateful to you for your decision not to tell thetonthat it was I who wrote that article.”
A frown instantly tugged at the Duke’s forehead. “I would never have done such a thing, Lady Lydia. I know full well that it would have caused you difficulty and I would not have brought such a thing upon you.” His frown lifted just a little. “Might I also say that I have read your most recent articles and found them not only very well written but highly engaging. You write very well.”
Lydia blinked in surprise. “I thank you, Your Grace.” She glanced at Sophie, seeing the same astonishment in her expression also. Of all the changes in the Duke’s manner, this was the most surprising though his words warmed Lydia’s heart, making her settle into the Duke’s company all the more as the carriage continued to make its way through London.
“It was just here, Your Grace.”Lydia glanced up at him for a moment before beginning to search through the sheaves of papers. There were all manner of old circulatory papers and the like, some very dull indeed and some with only a little more interest. It took her a few minutes but she soon found it, lifting it carefully and handing it to the Duke.
He took it from her and read it, leaving Lydia to clasp her hands in front of her as she considered him. There was a muscle jumping in his jaw, a flash of anger in his eyes as he read the few short lines. It was just as she had written it in the article, thoughshe had changed the words so that she used her own description and the like.
“It does not say who wrote this.”
“It does.” Standing on tiptoe, Lydia leaned against the Duke’s arm as she pointed to a small signature at the very bottom. “It says that it is written by Lord R.”
The Duke scowled down at the paper. “Lord R says nothing as to who it might have been. They are hiding their name, just as you did.”
Lydia nodded, still scrutinizing the paper. “They are, but I do wonder if someone at the time knew who Lord R was. It might have been meant to lend credibility to his writing?” When she looked up at the Duke again, he was gazing down into her face rather than at the paper and something shifted within her. A burst of heat in her stomach, a wave of crashing awareness that she stood closer to him than she had ever been with any gentleman and that, somehow, her hand was now resting on his arm.
She stepped back, swallowed hard, and then turned away. “I am sorry if it does not bring you any answers.”
“It does help a little.” The Duke set the papers back down and then rubbed one hand over his face, just as Lydia turned back to face him. “I have been waiting for my mother’s reply to my urgent letter, Lady Lydia. That is what prompted me to call upon you today for I received her reply only yesterday.”
“Oh?” Glancing over her shoulder to make sure that Sophie was still near to her, Lydia took a small step closer to the Duke so that he could speak to her without lifting his voice too high. “Might I be so bold as to ask what she said?”
He nodded. “It was in my mind to tell you, Lady Lydia, for if you are still willing to be of aid to me, then it is imperative that you know.” He let out a long sigh, his shoulders dropping a little. “My mother was forbidden to speak of the heirlooms. It was agreatly traumatizing experience for my father, for his carriage was stopped by a highwayman and he had to escape in fear for his life. The heirlooms were taken. This was back when I was only a boy, away at Eton.”
“Goodness,” Lydia whispered, one hand at her heart. “Then the story is true?”
With a nod, the Duke continued on. “My father’s driver – Stanley – was working alongside the highwayman, it seems. The highwayman knew that he was returning from London with the heirlooms, you understand, so the driver was the one who had told him such a thing.”
“But why?” Lydia asked, confused. “Why would the driver work with a highwayman? And how would they ever meet?”
