Page 14 of Her Lion of a Duke
“He won’t harm you. Though I would relax if I were you, for he can smell fear,” Leonard urged.
Cecilia shot him a withering look and then reluctantly extended her hand. Brutus licked it happily and then jumped up on Leonard’s legs, pawing at his trousers and leaving streaks of mud.
“All right, boy,” Leonard said kindly. “Yes, I have missed you too. Come now, sit.”
Again, Brutus did as he was told. Leonard turned to Cecilia, who did not seem as afraid as before.
“You need not fear him. He likes to play if you are good at throwing sticks.”
“With all of the energy I have at this moment, I could probably do that for hours.”
“You are more than welcome to. I have to work in my study today, but do whatever you please. This is your home now, after all.”
“Yes, quite,” she mumbled. “Well, thank you for the present.”
Leonard left her in the garden with Brutus, and when he stepped into his study, he looked out the window to see her throwing a stick. He could see her brow furrowed in concentration, and he had to admit that she was far stronger than she appeared.
He made a mental note not to anger her too much, for if pushed too far, she could clearly do some real damage.
“She seems nice,” Henry remarked, appearing beside him. “A good duchess should always have good aim, I would say. You never know when it might come in handy.”
“I do not have time for you.”
“No, you never did. And yet here I am.”
“Whyare you here? You are supposed to be in heaven with the angels. I had enough well-meaning people tell me that.”
“And leave you alone? I could never do that to my younger brother. I am here because you need me, Leonard. It is that simple.”
“I do not need you,” Leonard grumbled.
But it was true. If Henry were alive, Leonard could have asked him just who Felix Gray was and why they were writing to one another. He could have asked where Henry had gone that night and what had happened to him.
However, Henry was gone. He had been dead for years, and Leonard only had the ghost of him to talk to. He would have said that he wanted him gone, to leave him alone altogether, but that would have been a lie.
He would have been far too lonely without him.
“What do you plan to do about the letters?” Henry taunted. “Why not simply let them go, just as you did years ago?”
“You know perfectly well why I cannot do that. Felix Gray continues to write about you and me, slandering our names.”
“He is only slandering yours,” Henry reminded him. “He was a friend of mine, so he has no reason to speak ill of me. You, on the other hand…”
“Henry, what did you tell him?”
Henry fell quiet, his back turned to him.
“Henry? Tell me what you said.”
“I cannot,” he replied with a sigh, “and you and I both know that.”
Leonard groaned, turning back to the window. Brutus had returned to her, and she instructed him to sit. Even though Brutus only knew to obey his master, he sat happily, his tail sweeping the ground. Leonard could not help but smile, hoping that it was a sign that his wife would find her place in their home, after all.
He hoped that she would change everything entirely and render the estate unrecognizable. He did not want to exist in a place where so many terrible things had happened, not if he had any hope of healing.
“She is a good lady,” he said quietly, “so you are least correct about one thing.”
But when he turned back to his brother, Henry was nowhere to be seen.
