Page 16 of Her Lion of a Duke
“I did not,” Cecilia admitted, shaking her head. “I do not engage in gossip very often. It is not conducive to intellect, nor is it very interesting for the most part. Not only that, but I spent most of my time out in Society avoiding the gentlemen.”
She had not expected to spend the afternoon with the housekeeper, but Cecilia remembered her from her visit and liked her a good deal. It was nice to have a friendly face nearby, and she was grateful that she had been so readily accepted.
Brutus entered the room, thumping down ceremoniously at Cecilia’s feet. He looked up at her with big brown eyes, and she could not help but smile.
“We do want you to feel at home here,” Mrs. Herrington said gently. “I understand that it is a lot of change, and I will not pretend not to know your reasons for marrying His Grace, but I hope that in time, you come to appreciate your new life.”
“I shall do so rather easily, I believe,” Cecilia murmured. “My husband has told you why we got married, then?”
“A mutual agreement. He is protecting the family name, and you are helping your cousin. That is all we said to one another. Strangely, he had made his decision not long after protesting that he did not want to marry.”
“It was the same for me. I did not want to marry at all, and I was perfectly content with being a spinster, but then I thought of Clara and how I was hurting her prospects, and I had to change my mind.”
“What would you have done had you not married? I assume that you had given some thought to that, for you do not strike me as a fool.”
The truth was that Cecilia had had an income for years, but she could not reveal that. It was improper for her, as a young lady, to provide for herself, and she could not risk telling the housekeeper in case she told Leonard. He was an understanding man, but she did not want him to take offense. He might assume she would continue to work because she did not think he had enough money.
She worked to maintain a semblance of freedom, after all. The small fortune she had accumulated did not matter half as much.
“I should have liked to be a governess,” she explained instead. “I may not always have adhered strictly to the rules of Society, but I know what they are. I also would have been able to teach children, and offering them guidance would have given me a sense of purpose. Being a wife… it simply is not the same.”
“It might not be the same, but you will at least have children of your own to care for,” Mrs. Herrington reminded her. “There are many ladies like you who see marriage as the end of their lives, but that is not the truth. You will find your purpose outside of your role, Your Grace. Believe me.”
It pleased Cecilia a great deal to know that she was supported, but her heart ached regardless. She wished to continue her work, which she just realized would have to become a secret.
She did not want to keep secrets from Leonard, for he had been good to her, but she had no other choice. He could not know what she did, so she would do everything in her power to hide it.
It would have been easier to forget about that part of her life and live in luxury and pretend she was nothing more than a wealthy duchess, but the thought of it made her nauseous. Her work was all that she had had for the longest time, and she could not give it up, not for anything.
Not even for her husband.
Leonard spent the rest of the day in his study, and she did not see him at dinner. She would have been grateful for that; it gave her time alone, but she could not help but wonder why he had so willingly left her without his company.
It made sense for her, for she was keeping secrets, and it was easier to do so when not in his presence, but what was his reasoning? She could only assume that it was because he was hiding something from her, too.
She felt like a hypocrite for that, but she did not care very much. She pierced a potato with her fork and held it near her lips absentmindedly.
Her husband was not a stranger to her; he was her friend, but they had never been so distant from one another as they were now, now that they were married. She almost regretted the decision she had made, but then she thought of Clara and knew that she could not.
As long as Clara married well, then it would all have been worth it.
The following morning, she received a letter. She quickly recognized the handwriting as that of her cousin, and she unfolded it excitedly.
My dear cousin,
I know that it is not customary to write to someone on their honeymoon, but I cannot help it. I have thought about you since the wedding, and I am more than happy to wait until you come back to London to receive my response.
I realized as you were leaving that I never thanked you properly for what you have done for me. I know that we cannot say it in so many words, and that if anyone asks, you are in love with your husband and living in bliss, but I know you. You did all of this for me. I was hoping that I was wrong, but then I heard my mother telling her lady’s maid that she was grateful for your sacrifice.
I know that you had ambitions, and I can only hope that you have not lost the ability to attain all of them for my sake. I would have been fine, I think. Then again, I will not pretendthat you have married for nothing. I have had no end of suitors since word of your marriage spread.
I hope to see you soon. I spoke with Lady Beatrice at your wedding breakfast, and I know that your friends will visit you soon. I envy them, for I cannot leave London. I have far too much to do here, and though I am enjoying it, I must admit that I wish you were here to help me with it all.
I will see you when you return to London. I shall be counting down the days once I know how many remain.
Sincerely,
Lady Clara Punton.
