Page 92 of Her Lion of a Duke
“It is Lord Renshaw,” she said breathlessly. “He is here to marry Clara. I do not know what he wants from her, but he claims to have plans and that I should ally myself with him. I cannot allow the match, but my aunt is thrilled about it. Clara will not say a word against her, and someone has to protect her. I do not know what to do.”
“We will do what we must,” he assured, leading her out of the room.
They went back downstairs, and Leonard heard his cousin’s laughter. They went to the parlor, and he saw him leering at Clara. He saw the discomfort on her face, and without thinking, he stepped between them.
“Leave, Renshaw,” he barked. “You are not wanted here.”
“Ah, Leonard!” Renshaw said warmly. “I suppose your wife was being honest after all. The two of you are fine, indeed. However, I must inform you that I am very welcome here. This is not your home, no matter how much power you believe you have.”
“The young lady is not interested in you. Leave her be, or else.”
“Or else what? We both know that you would never hurt anyone, even though the ton believes you are capable of it.”
Leonard picked Renshaw up by the collar, fury in his eyes, before he heard the shocked gasps of the two ladies present. He took a deep breath and set him back on his feet.
Renshaw was flushed, the fear plain in his eyes, but he continued to smile.
“You cannot help yourself, can you?” he taunted. “You Pridefields insist on being savages. You always have.”
“Do not speak of my family that way.”
“It isourfamily, dear cousin. We are all connected, and that has been a wonderful thing for me. It will only serve me better in the years to come.”
“Yes, my wife has told me about these plans of yours, the ones involving Lady Clara. Might you inform me of what they are?”
“You would like that, wouldn’t you, Your Grace?” Renshaw smirked. “Unfortunately, you will not know until it is too late. I only share my plans with those I trust, and given your behavior, I think we both know that I cannot trust you.”
“Nor do I trust you,” Leonard said coldly. “Tell me, Renshaw, where were you the night of my brother’s death?”
Renshaw paled, and Leonard’s suspicions were confirmed.
He had always assumed that someone had killed Henry, but when Cecilia mentioned that his cousin had plans, an awful feeling settled deep in his stomach.
Renshaw had always wanted power. He had none as a boy, and he was not the heir of a grand estate. He had a connection to the Pridefields, and he always resented Leonard for the fact that they were cousins, yet they led such different lives.
It changed when Henry died; Renshaw became all too friendly, and even though Leonard did not know his intentions, he knew not to trust him.
Looking at him at that moment, part of him wished that he were still living in ignorance.
“I do not recall where I was,” Renshaw stammered. “It was so long ago.”
“Oh? Because I remember where I was. I was at home that night, while my brother went to his club. The same club you went to every night, might I remind you. You must have seen him, yes?”
“I-I may have. You know how Henry was. He knew everyone, and he hardly gave anyone much time.”
“That is where you are wrong. He was very much interested in meeting with his friends, and from what I recall, that is precisely what he considered you to be.”
“Indeed, we were friends. I have missed him terribly since that night.”
“Have you? Or is it that you knew what you wanted, and your cousin was in your way?”
Renshaw did not respond, but footsteps approached. Lady Punton appeared in the doorway, her eyes steady on the two men.
“What is the meaning of this?” she asked. “I do not allow this sort of discussion in my house.”
“I apologize for the inconvenience,” Leonard offered. “But I cannot allow this man to marry your daughter. You do not really know him.”
“Have this man arrested!” Renshaw ordered. “I have been assaulted.”
