Page 13 of The Duke of Lies
She and Beau had taken breakfast at the table in her study that morning, as they usually did. Beau had asked why his father wasn’t there, and Verity had simply said they would need time to learn a new routine. In truth, she hadn’t invited him. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought of it, rather that she hadn’t wanted to.
And that made her feel terrible.
She thought of Beau, off to the Guinea Room with his nurse already, and her heart squeezed. While she was glad to see him so happy to have his father, a part of her didn’t want to share him. Particularly with Rufus.
Oh, she was being awful. Rufus was back, for better or for worse, and those were, in fact, part of the terms of their marriage. She should support him—or at least tolerate him—for Beau’s sake.
Last night, he had been rather wonderful, playing soldiers with Beau after dinner and promising to get him a toy ship. He’d said a boy needed a ship. He’d been so passionate about it, in fact, that Verity wondered if he’d come to like sailing while he was gone. Would it be difficult for him to be back here on land? He’d changed so much in other ways that she wouldn’t be surprised to find he didn’t like it here. Or perhaps that was merely what she was hoping for.
Self-disgust flashed through her again, and she stalked down the stairs to the hallway next to the kitchen before going out into the upper courtyard. Rufus stood near the upper gate, where they’d arranged to meet before going to see Cuddy.
He turned, perhaps hearing her close the door before she descended the steps to the courtyard. As she approached, he looked up at the clock mounted high on the brick. “How long has that been broken?” he asked.
She joined him and squinted at the unmoving hands. “About two years, I think. Cuddy keeps meaning to have it repaired.”
“And why hasn’t he?”
“When I ask, he says he hasn’t found someone to fix it.”
“I can probably repair it,” Rufus said, surprising her.
She’d never known him to be mechanically inclined. He was good at riding, hunting, and drinking and little else. She supposed he was also good at being horrid. Orhadbeen good at that, anyway.
She looked over at him, her gaze lingering on his profile before taking in his costume. He wore the same clothing he had yesterday, and she wondered if that was all he had. His garments were stored around here somewhere—she’d ask Kirwin to bring them out.
“Shall we go see the steward?” Rufus asked.
“Yes.” Her pulse quickened. Was it because she worried Rufus would offer his arm? Or was she simply nervous to meet with Cuddy?
Thankfully, Rufus didn’t offer. He only gestured for her to join him as they walked through the upper gate.
“The gardens are beautiful. Are there more roses?” he asked. “Or is my memory faulty?”
His attempts at idle conversation still perplexed Verity, but she preferred them to who he’d been before. “No, your memory is fine. I’ve added more roses over the years. I’ve taken a special interest in the gardens.”
“I look forward to investigating the others.”
She almost believed him. She had yet to determine if he was being nice for a purpose or if this was simply the new and improved Rufus. Either alternative made her head spin.
They took the path through the garden that led down to the lower courtyard where she’d met him yesterday upon his miraculous return. Yes, that was an accurate description. To have him home after so much time had passed—never mind how vastly improved he was—was nothing short of a miracle. And one she hadn’t prayed for.
They cut across the courtyard at an angle to reach Cuddy’s office. After dinner last night, he’d said that he’d sent a note to Cuddy to set the interview. Verity wondered what the steward thought. He’d successfully kept her at bay, which now grated horribly, but he wouldn’t be able to do the same to Rufus.
The door to Cuddy’s office was ajar, but Rufus rapped on the wood before pushing it wider. “Good morning,” he said, indicating that Verity should precede him.
She went into the dim interior. Bright gray spring light filtered through the high-set windows and was supplemented by two lanterns burning—one on the wall and another on Cuddy’s wide desk.
The steward stood and came around the piece of furniture. He bowed to Rufus. “Good morning, Your Grace. You look very well.” He then bowed to Verity. “Your Grace.”
“Shall we sit?” Rufus asked.
“Whatever you prefer,” Cuddy said.
As Cuddy walked back behind his desk, Rufus waited for Verity to sit. She took one of the pair of chairs facing the steward. Rufus sat down beside her and didn’t waste a moment before launching into their business.
“I’d like to see the account books.”
Cuddy nodded. “Of course. I shall have them delivered to the house later today.”
