Page 61 of Her Lion of a Duke
When morning dawned, Leonard dressed himself and stepped out of his room. Cecilia left her room at the same time, almost running into him.
“Good morning,” he greeted. “May I have a word before breakfast?”
Cecilia nodded, and they left for the gardens. The Puntons kept them perfectly maintained, and Leonard made a few mental notes to change a few things about their own garden before remembering why they were there.
He cleared his throat, trying to find the words.
“You will not be pleased with me,” he began.
“Did you fight with your dear cousin?” Cecilia teased. “I will not tell a soul if you have.”
“No, Cecilia. It is serious. I have been keeping something from you, and I want to tell you about it. I feel like such a fool for it.”
She fell silent, leading him to a quiet bench that was isolated from the rest of the grounds. She looked at him expectantly, her blue eyes wide, and the guilt could have crushed him.
“I have hired a private investigator,” he confessed. “I did so before our wedding. I should have told you before, but I did not know how to. I had to make sure that you were not a suspect first.”
She blinked at him. “A suspect?” she echoed. “What did you think I had done?”
“It is Henry. Someone has been writing things about me, implying that I killed him. I cannot have that rumor spread again, so this time I am going to take action. I have a name—Felix Gray—and I am going to uncover his identity so that he stops writing about me.”
He saw the way her face fell slightly before she composed herself. He liked that she did not want him to feel bad, but he did not want her to hide how she felt either.
“Is that why you allowed Renshaw to stay as long as he did?” she asked. “So that you could investigate him?”
“In part, yes. I would have thought of him, eventually, but a detective went to see him before I could take matters into myown hands. He had taken great offense at the accusation, though I made him believe I had nothing to do with it.”
“And do you think it is him?”
“I do not know. Whoever is doing this wants misfortune to befall me—to befallus—and I cannot allow that to happen. I may not be the perfect husband, but I will not allow anyone to hurt you, Cecilia. I sound like a hypocrite after keeping all of this from you, but it is how I feel.”
“I will not claim to be pleased that you kept it from me,” she replied, her voice softening. “But I am not angry with you. We all have secrets, and if this is the only thing you’d been hiding from me, then you are a better man than most.”
He smiled at that, a thought suddenly coming to him as she rested her head against his shoulder.
“What is your secret, then?” he asked. “As I have told you mine.”
She was quiet for a moment.
“I hate apples,” she murmured. “I cannot stand them. Dorothy grows them in her orchard, and before we got married, she used to bring them to me, but I never once ate one. I used to give them to my family or the villagers. You must never tell her that, though!”
Leonard let out a low laugh. Cecilia had always spoken her mind, but she had seemingly drawn the line at such a small thing.
“Why didn’t you simply tell her?”
“Too much time had passed! If I had told her, she would have asked me what I had done on the dozen other occasions where she had brought me some. I was too far into the lie to tell the truth.”
“You are never too far,” he reassured her. “However, if you wish to keep it from her still, I will carry the burden for you. I love apples, particularly green ones. I will ensure that none are wasted. That way, you can keep your friend happy.”
She nodded and sighed happily.
“My mother and father are pleased to see you,” she said after a while. “They changed the moment you entered the house. They have always liked you, for you were the only person other than my friends that I did not loathe entirely.”
“That is a great honor,” he murmured. “Though you have always had acquaintances. You should not pretend that you hate everyone else.”
“I am not pretending. I hardly like anyone at all. I can be cordial, but that does not mean Ilikethem. Frankly, I find half the ton insufferable, and I believe that they could all use someone telling them precisely what they think of them.”
“And you could fulfil that role?”
