Page 43 of Defending the Duke (The St. Clairs 4)

Laurel sniffed. “Thiswoman prefers not to imbibe it at all.”

He smiled. It caught her by surprise. When he did, his eyes lit up. It made him even more handsome than usual. She had better steer clear from amusing him because a smile like that was intoxicating. She wanted to keep him at a distance, not entertain him.

They finished their meal without further discussion. He inhaled his food and finished at the same time she did.

“There was no need to rush, Your Grace. I would have waited for you.”

He looked sheepish. “I tend to wolf down my food. In the army, you never knew when a meal might be interrupted by the enemy shelling your position. I went without food and sleep for three days once when we were under attack. I suppose some of that feeling of not being able to finish lingers. I apologize. I will be more aware of my manners in the future.”

Again, she was surprised, this time by his words. She placed her hand over his.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t upset with you. I know it must be hard to be living in society after spending years on the warfront.”

He gazed at their hands and she slipped hers back to her lap.

Rising, she said, “I will see if Mrs. Wallingford can show us the house now.”

Linfield nodded. She felt her face flushing. Merely touching him seemed to fluster her. Laurel knew she better get her emotions under control.

She found Mrs. Wallingford and the housekeeper was more than willing to give them a thorough tour of the house. For the next two hours, they accompanied her as she took them from the wine cellars to the attics. Laurel was impressed by the magnificent library and couldn’t wait to start reading the books within it. Though a good student in school and an avid reader of the newspaper, she’d only discovered novels when introduced to them by Leah and had enjoyed discussing them with the book club members. It still amazed her that she had idle time in which to sit and enjoy reading.

She also found the schoolroom to her liking. It smelled of old books and chalk. She thought of her children sitting at the table, learning to read and computing sums. She felt her husband’s eyes on her and looked up. Somehow, she knew he’d read her thoughts.

Located directly across from the schoolroom was the nursery. It looked forlorn, not having been used in many years.

“We’ll need fresh paint in here. New carpet, too,” she pointed out. “I don’t want the babies crawling about on a cold floor.”

“You know you may do whatever you like,” Linfield said. “The same with any room in the house here or in London.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. I will make a list of the things I’d like done. I’d also like to talk with Rachel and have her visit Linwood. She has a fine eye for detail and I’m sure she’d make some excellent suggestions. Perhaps after the Season ends, she and Evan can come for a visit.”

He merely nodded and stepped back into the corridor. Laurel wondered if he minded her sister and brother-in-law coming to visit. It didn’t matter. She wanted them to come. In fact, she wanted all her relatives to see Linwood. It surprised her how it had only been one day since she’d seen most of them and yet she missed them terribly.

She thanked Mrs. Wallingford for showing them around and the housekeeper left. Linfield lingered in the hall, waiting for her.

“Do you remember having lessons in the schoolroom?” she asked, knowing he probably had no memories from his time in the nursery.

“Vaguely. Theodore and I had a tutor. When Theodore left for school, the tutor only stayed a short time and then he was gone.”

“What about your bedchamber? Did you recall which one was yours?”

“Not really. It’s been too long since I was here.”

With that, he turned and walked away.

*

Anthony had toescape. He’d listened to Mrs. Wallingford go on and on about the house. She had a story for each room they visited—and they all included his father or Theodore. He’d gleaned that she’d arrived at Linwood about a year after his departure. Sanders, the butler, had come aboard a dozen years ago. As the woman prattled on, he wondered if she or any of the other servants had even known about him. If they wondered who this new Duke of Linfield was and why he’d been sent away as a child.

He had recognized his bedchamber, lying to Laurel about that. He’d spent many hours locked within it, receiving only bread and water as punishment for one of his many transgressions. His father had removed all books and toys from the room, wanting him to suffer from boredom. He knew every inch of the room, from the one loose plank near the corner to the wallpaper he’d peeled from behind the bed. Just standing in the room made him break out in a cold sweat.

The schoolroom was different. He’d been smarter than Theodore and could remember their tutor praising him. He’d never understood where the man went. Anthony had thought the tutor would remain until it was time for him to join Theodore at school—yet one day he’d simply vanished. After that, Anthony had roamed the estate as he pleased. Read the books he wanted to. Played with his toy soldiers, lining them up and fighting imaginary battles. He’d slipped open a drawer while Laurel was distracted and found the set of soldiers still sitting where he’d last left them. His throat had thickened with unshed tears for the little boy no one had seemed to want.

He ventured to the office which had housed the estate manager years ago and found Ross Woodward at work. He shot to his feet at once.

“Your Grace! I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Have a seat.”

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