Page 10 of The Duke of Scandal

“Greatest admirer after me, of course,” Rebecca said.

Rebecca’s smile was brighter to Lucius than the bar of sunlight in which they both stood. He gently put his hands around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She linked her hands behind his head, gazing up at him.

“I still think that you should let me introduce myself to your brother and court you openly,” Lucius replied.

Rebecca sighed, the bright happy smile slipping. Lucius hugged her tightly, not wanting the familiar conversation to dampen their time together.

“I know we have talked about this before but…all of this secrecy just bothers me. We’re not doing anything wrong at all.”

Rebecca buried her head against Lucius’ chest, and with a shock, he realized that she was weeping. He bent his head down to her, rubbing his cheek against hers. In the months that he had known her, Rebecca had shown herself to be a bright, lively, and effervescent young woman. She had become a sunbeam in a life that had hitherto been dominated by his work. To see her openly upset was like a knife to his stomach.

“My love. If I have upset you, I am sorry. I should not have spoken of the matter.”

Rebecca shook her head against his chest. “It is not that, Lucius. Something terrible has happened.”

Lucius frowned. His thoughts immediately jumped to the Duke of Wrexham, Rebecca’s cold and almost inhuman brother. Was this something that he had done? The thought ignited a hot anger within Lucius which he fought to control. People talked of the colored past of the young Duke, but his own knowledge came from the stories recounted by Rebecca. How he had returned from France after the death of their father, the old Duke. Returned a changed man.

“Darling. Tell me what it is. There is nothing that can confront us that we cannot face together.”

“I fear this is beyond the knowledge and skills of a country vet, Lucius. We are dealing with the politics of my hateful peers with their medieval attitudes to women and marriage.”

“Marriage?” Lucius asked, a chill running through him at the word.

Had the conversation been abouttheirmarriage, then nothing would have made him happier. But, he knew that Rebecca was not talking of their own planned union. This was something else.

“I discovered today that Edward has arranged a husband for me. An heir to a Dukedom whom Edward considers wealthy and high ranking enough to be a suitable match for me. My wishes are secondary. In fact, they don’t matter at all. Edward just thinks that people of our rank should marry out of duty, not out of love.”

Rebecca’s words disintegrated into tears. Lucius' eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched tight as he held his love.

“I will speak to him. I will be at Englefield Farm in a week’s time to examine the Duke’s new pig stock. It is barely two miles from Wrexham. I will request an audience and tell him how we feel about each other. The man can’t be such a monster that…”

Rebecca lifted her head, her eyes red with tears. “No, you must not. He will never consider my marrying a…”

She stopped, mouth clamping shut on the words. Lucius felt another dagger to his heart. He stepped away from her, turning away to hide the anger and anguish on his face. Emotions were hard for him to conceal. They sparked in him like fireworks, exploding, but then fading away in the next moment. He clenched his fists.

“Marrying a common vet?” he said quietly.

“Not my thoughts or words. I would marry you tomorrow and be happy that I had found my perfect match. But if you are going to speak to Edward, ask for his consent, you must know that he will see the mud on your boots, not the noble man that you are.”

She reached for him but he shook her off, in the grip of an anger fueled by his sense of crushing injustice. He wrestled with it, not wanting Rebecca to be burned by his resentment towards the society that she was part of. Again, she reached for him, and this time he allowed her hands to remain about his shoulders.

“The irony is that my mother used to tell me that we come from a distant branch of a noble family. But one of my ancestors made a choice, went one way, and the family went the other. I bear the name Worthingham but with no connection to the family that lives in a manor house somewhere.”

“I don’t know the name. Is it a Northdane family?” Rebecca asked.

“I have no idea, I’m afraid. I grew up in Somerset. The accent lingers as you may have noticed.”

“It is soft and gentle and I love it,” Rebecca purred.

“Mother took in laundry to pay for my education in Bristol. But, somewhere out there, she told me, there is a family bearing our name. They live in a big house and bear the title of Earl.”

He felt Rebecca pressing herself against his back, stroking his face gently. He took her hand and kissed the palm, pressing it against his lips and holding it there. The emotions subsided within him, the anger and the grief. He turned to face Rebecca. She looked up at him anxiously. Something had to be done. Perhaps demanding Rebecca’s hand from the Duke would be foolhardy, particularly if he were the typical aristocrat, zealously protective of their elite status.

“I cannot allow you to marry anyone but me,” he said simply.

Rebecca smiled, tracing the lines of his face, ending at his lips. “I do not wish to marry any but you.”

“And your brother will not be persuaded?” Lucius asked.

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