Page 50 of Her Lion of a Duke
“No, of course not, but it is difficult to refute what is so brazenly done in front of others, Your Grace. You hated the idea of marriage, yes?”
“I was opposed to it, indeed. I would not say that was a failing of my own, though. It said little about me and everything about the caliber of gentlemen suggested to me. I was never going to marry a man simply because I had no other choice. Because I had many choices.”
“And you wanted the best,” he concluded. “That is why you chose my cousin.”
“Indeed. He is a good man and a wonderful duke.”
“Not a patch on his brother, nor his father, but he will do.”
There it was, the words needed to stir her anger. She knew of Leonard’s struggle to match up to his predecessors and his difficulty in seeing himself as worthy. He did not need some scrap of a man coming into his home and making such comments when he could pass by and overhear them at any moment.
“He is a wonderful duke,” she insisted. “The villagers love him, and the ton finds him delightful.”
“I do not doubt that, but family knows one another far better than Society ever could.”
“And given what you know about him, do you think that you would have been better in his position?”
“That is what my mother always said,” Lord Renshaw admitted. “And, were it not for His Grace, I would have inherited the duchy. It is a funny thing, is it not, that such things can happen?”
Cecilia mumbled in the affirmative, but she looked at the mouse-like man in front of her and wondered just how deluded his mother was. He would not have been respected, nor looked upon with favor at all. Cecilia only knew of him because he was her husband’s cousin, and she was certain that none of her friends would remember his name if they saw him.
“You would love my mother,” he continued. “She was going to accompany me, but I told her that I would prefer to meet you myself, rather than have the two of you discuss embroidery and decorations and flowers.”
“Is that what you believe ladies discuss? It may just be what your wife is passionate about, after all.”
“Ah, I appreciate that you expect a man like me to have a wife, but I have yet to find one. My mother claims that there will never be a debutante worthy of me, for I am too intelligent for them. They do not have the experience I require.”
That was no surprise to her. It was easy enough to believe that there had not been a lady desperate enough for a husband that she would willingly marry a man nearing his forties, but Cecilialiked to think that once, many years ago, he might have been able to find one.
“Perhaps you should marry someone older, if intelligence and maturity are what you seek?”
“Heavens, no!” He chortled. “I understand that my dear cousin is willing to defy expectations and choose a spinster, but I have no such intentions. I will have a blushing bride and nothing less.”
Lord Renshaw was a villain, and Cecilia could feel her patience wearing thin. She wished that his wonderful mother had indeed accompanied him, so that she could have excused herself and left them to talk about how wonderful he was, but she was stuck with him until Leonard finished his work.
“That is nothing against you, though,” Lord Renshaw added. “My cousin may not have the highest standards, but he has done well for himself regardless.”
“You know him well, then?”
“As well as most cousins know one another, yes.”
Cecilia sat in her newly decorated drawing room and wondered if her relationship with Clara was not the norm, for it was not possible that Leonard had the same relationship with Lord Renshaw. If the two gentlemen’s relationship was to be expected, Cecilia was pleased to be the exception.
At that moment, Brutus entered the room. He wagged his tail happily as he bounded to Cecilia, a note attached to his collar.
“Hello, boy.” She smiled, taking the note from him. “Is this for me?”
But Brutus proceeded to turn toward Lord Renshaw and growl at him, causing the man to push himself against the back of his seat in an attempt to get away.
“Nasty thing,” he grumbled. “Is he untrained?”
“On the contrary, he is perfectly behaved. But he is not accustomed to strangers, I suppose.”
What Cecilia truly thought was that the dog was an excellent judge of character, but she would not say that. She unfolded the note and read it quickly. It was from Leonard, explaining that he would be joining them soon, and to be patient. She smiled at it and folded it neatly.
“Is it from His Grace?” Lord Renshaw asked.
“Yes. He wished to tell me that he will be with us shortly.”
