Page 7 of The Duke of Lies
Kirwin glanced toward Verity, and she could see he was still in a state of shock. As they all would likely be for quite some time. “Welcome home, sir. I’ll have your bags taken upstairs…” His voice trailed off as his gaze moved back to Verity.
“I can move my things out of the ducal chamber.” She kept her eyes averted from Rufus. “I took the larger chamber a few years ago.”
“That makes perfect sense, and I won’t ask you to leave it. Kirwin, put my things wherever you see fit.” Rufus looked to Verity. “Unless you have a preference?”
He was asking for herpreference? Oh, this was going to take more than getting used to. This was going to require a complete shift in her behavior and her thinking.Ifhe remained like this. Perhaps as he settled back into his routine, he’d revert to the beast she’d married.
Both Kirwin and Rufus watched her expectantly. “The Blue Room.” That was the bedroom next to the drawing room and the farthest one from her chamber.
Kirwin nodded before shifting his attention to Rufus. “Do you require anything, Your Grace?”
“A bath would be welcome. If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Not at all. I’ll have it prepared at once.” Kirwin turned to go but then pivoted to look at Verity, his brow raised. “His lordship will be upstairs in the Guinea Room,” he said softly.
Verity nodded at the butler. “Thank you, Kirwin.”
The butler left, and she took a deep, sustaining breath.
Rufus looked at her in question. “His lordship?”
“The Earl of Preston.” When he seemed nonplussed, she said, “Your son.”
He nodded briskly. “Of course. I’d forgotten he would hold the courtesy title.” He wiped a hand across his brow. “I was remiss. I should have asked after him directly. As I said before, this is all so strange.”
“You know that you have a son?” He’d disappeared before she’d told him she was expecting.
“I’d…heard.”
She supposed that made sense. “Where did you come from? I mean, have you been traveling all over England?”
“No, I arrived in Liverpool about a fortnight ago. I would have come sooner, but I wasn’t…in the best of shape.”
Again, she wanted to know what he’d endured. A horrid part of her was glad he’d suffered. She could think of no one who deserved it more. But the thoughts made her feel small and wretched.
She refocused on Beau—nothing mattered next to him. “So you heard of Beau on your way here.”
“Beau?”
“That’s what we call him. His name is Augustus Christopher Beaumont.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Christopher?”
“That was his great-grandfather’s name. Have you forgotten?”
“Not at all. I’m just surprised. I would’ve expected Archibald to be one of his names.”
She went completely still, expecting him to rail at her for not using his father’s name. However, Augustus was the one who’d been kind to her. If only he hadn’t died just a month after she’d wed Rufus. His presence had kept Rufus from devolving into a complete blackguard, and once he was gone, things had changed for the worse.
“I like it very much,” he said softly, surprising her more than anything else that day. And that was saying quite a bit. Was this how it was going to be? She would stare at him in disbelief as he continued to behave completely out of character, all while her insides curled in turmoil, awaiting the snap in his temper.
“He’s a very good boy,” she said cautiously. “I need to speak with him, to prepare him before you can meet.”
“I would expect nothing less. I will let you decide when and where.”
“Your kindness and understanding is more than I could have hoped for. I’ll talk to him after his lessons. If all goes well, you can meet him this evening.”
“I should like that, thank you. And now, I believe I’ll have that bath.” He turned toward the stairs that rose against the far wall, and she watched a frown crease his profile.
