Page 48 of Defending the Duke (The St. Clairs 4)

Chapter Fifteen

Laurel awoke, hereyes grainy from lack of sleep.

Anthony hadn’t come to her last night.

She’d stayed awake as long as she could, thinking of the day they’d spent together. While he hadn’t been as warm toward the tenants as she would have liked, she understood as a duke, he needed to keep a certain distance from everyone. They’d returned after being out all day and once again, after bathing, eaten in the winter parlor. She enjoyed the small room. Sanders had rolled in a cart both times and placed their plates and wine in front of them before leaving. After having footmen always present, Laurel liked the intimacy of dining alone with her husband—almost too much.

She reminded herself that he was just her husband. That while they got along for the most part, they were two very different people. It wasn’t her plan to ever fall in love.

But if she had, it would have been with Anthony.

Her warring feelings gave her pause. At times, she thought of him as Linfield, the haughty duke who contained his emotions. When he touched her, though, he was Anthony, the man whose need for her raged out of control. Laurel wondered if he thought the same of her. Was she truly two people when around him? Sometimes, she still felt as if she were that inadequate shop girl, too thin from not having enough to eat, trying to avoid the likes of Julius Farmon so she could stay safe another day. She might be the Duchess of Linfield but a part of her would always feel like Laurel Wright.

She stretched, telling herself she would hide her disappointment when she saw her husband. If he knew how long she had waited up for him, it would give him satisfaction. Sometimes, she felt they were at constant war with one another, jockeying for the superior position in their marriage. She knew society—and even the Bible—determined that a man was to be the head of a household and marriage. Why she couldn’t accept that, she didn’t know. She merely wanted to be herself, even if that self seemed to antagonize her husband to no end.

After ringing for Retta and dressing for the day, Laurel went to the breakfast room. A note rested at her place. She opened it and learned that Anthony had already eaten and had ridden out with Mr. Woodward. He promised to be back by teatime.

She folded the note again, the first from him. It was terse, with no mention of affection, much like the man who wrote it. Yet she knew he felt deeply. Laurel determined to solve the mystery of his childhood. She’d already tried, speaking with some of the longtime tenants. They remembered him as a boy, one who roamed the estate freely. He’d been curious and had a streak of mischief within him. Other than that, none of them knew much about him. It saddened her when one farmer said the boy had gone to school and never returned. The Duke of Linfield and his heir, Theodore, never mentioned Anthony the few times they were out and about on the estate. The farmer said no one asked what had become of the child because none of them wanted to anger His Grace.

The servants were no help, either. She’d spoken to many of them. None had been here during Anthony’s time in the household, more than twenty years ago. Laurel understood servants came and went but she had hoped she might find at least one who could clear the muddy waters for her.

Once she’d finished breakfast, she walked through the entire house again, making detailed notes on what she would like done once they returned after the Season, when they would make Linwood their more permanent home. It made her wonder about Hannah and Aunt Constance. She knew the older woman had a country residence and supposed Hannah had been living with her. Would they return there—or come to Linwood? Of course, it was possible Hannah might very well find a husband by Season’s end and marry and move in with him. It made Laurel eager to return to London and see these new family members, as well as visit with her own. Hudson would leave in a few months for university. She hoped he might spend at least part of his holidays with her at Linwood or their other estates. Anthony had promised to take her to see the properties he owned. She was curious as to their locations and just how many there might be. At least Linwood was located close to her St. Clair relatives and would make visiting them easy.

After she’d compiled her list, Laurel returned to her room and spent a few hours examining the ledgers she’d borrowed from Mr. Woodward. She was pleased to find that Linwood was quite profitable. She decided to return the ledgers to the estate manager’s office since it was almost teatime and she expected Anthony to join her, based upon what his note indicated. When she entered, it surprised her to find Woodward sitting behind his desk.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she apologized. “I’ve come to return the ledgers I borrowed.”

“You haven’t, Your Grace,” he said pleasantly. “His Grace and I returned an hour ago.”

“I hope you had a pleasant day together.”

“His Grace is full of good ideas. I look forward to implementing his vision for Linwood. I believe he’s eager to visit his other estates and see what work needs to be done at them, as well.”

“His Grace and I are about to take tea. Would you like to join us? I’d love to hear about what you did today and also discover what other properties are in the family.”

Mr. Woodward looked taken aback. “Are you certain you’d like me to join you? I... that is, I never took tea with the previous duke.”

Laurel smiled. “You are more than welcomed. Come along.”

She led him upstairs and rang the bell. The maid who answered told her that tea would arrive shortly and Laurel thanked her.

Since they were alone, she decided to approach Mr. Woodward regarding Anthony’s past.

“You have been here a good number of years, I’d imagine,” she began.

“Yes, Your Grace. I came as an assistant steward. My father was a steward at an estate a day’s ride from Linwood and he trained me himself.”

“Then you rose in position and took over all management of Linwood?”

“I did. I’ve been most fortunate to serve at Linwood for so long.”

“You mentioned when we arrived that you recalled my husband as a child.”

Woodward frowned, clearly uncomfortable with her comment. “I barely remember him as a boy,” he said. “I’m afraid after so long a time, I was trying to curry favor with our new duke. He was only here a short while and then off to school. I really don’t remember much about him at all.”

He looked away, his fingers slipping under his cravat, pulling nervously at it.

“Didn’t it concern you when he didn’t return from school during the holidays?” Laurel pressed. “I know boys are sent away to further their education but they do come home to spend time with their families.”

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