Page 37 of The Lion Duke's Proposal
“I don’t yet know,” Cuthbert said, “but I’ll be looking further into the backgrounds of those I met there, and if any of them proves to have any connections to him, I’ll be sure to let you know. One thing we can be certain of, though, is that if Lord Norish does have some ties with this group, he won’t be far away. That man was never one to let his little investment projects out of his sight. He must be staying in town. If I get any hint of where he might be, I’ll let you know at once.”
“Thank you, Mr. Cuthbert. Keep me informed,” Leander said, handing him back the broadsheet. “The moment you have anything concrete, I want to be the first to know about it.”
“Of course.” The solicitor bowed and tipped his hat. “Good day, Your Grace. Your Lordship.”
The minute he was gone, Anthony raised his eyebrow and let out a long whistle. “Well, Leander, it seems you might have been right all along. Looks like he was hiding out right under our noses.”
“And that means he’s most definitely heard about the courtship,” Leander continued his friend’s thought. “Which means he’ll smell an opportunity and be getting in touch with Miss Norish very soon, I expect.”
“So your plan’s working,” his friend mused. “What are you going to do when you find him?”
“I want that watch back,” Leander said simply, his hand curling into a fist at the thought of it. “I’ll do whatever it takes. It was Henry’s last cherished object, and I can’t let him down.”
“How are you going to go about that?” his friend asked. “You know Norish probably won’t give it up willingly. Or he’ll try to make a deal with you, and we both know he won’t play fair. Are you going to take your revenge by sending him to prison?”
Leander sighed. This had been troubling him ever since his discussion with Miss Norish the other day, when she’d looked him in the eye and asked him not to take revenge on her father, and he had subtly avoided answering her. He knew that she had taken his silence as agreement. Would it be a betrayal of Miss Norish’s trust to report her father’s presence to the constabulary and have him arrested, thereby forcing him to return the pocket watch?
Of course it would.
But he thought again about all the pain Henry had gone through in his final days, about the way his friend had been so desperate to get that watch back, and the anger surged once again through him. It would be a betrayal of Henry’s memory not to make Lord Norish suffer in the same way his friend had.
“I don’t know,” he replied tiredly, a rush of fatigue hitting him once again. “Let’s hope that he’s in a reasonable state of mind, especially if he thinks he’s going to get some money from my betrothal to his daughter. Perhaps we can trick the watch out of him.”
“Very hard to trick a trickster, my friend,” Anthony pointed out. “I think at some point soon you’re going to have to make up your mind about this. What matters most to you?”
“Nothing matters to me except you and Henry,” Leander replied fiercely. Even as he said it, though, he knew that it was no longer true. Once again, the image of Miss Norish swam unbidden in his mind’s eye. The surge of confusing and inexplicable feelingshe’d had last night when she was in his arms returned. Could he really go through with this and break her trust?
He could tell Anthony knew he was lying, but his friend didn’t say anything else. He simply clapped him on the shoulder reassuringly. “One way or another, it’ll work itself out, Leander. I’m sure of it. Now get your head around those balance sheets so you can come and play with my boy. He’s been desperate to spend time with his uncle all week.”
“I’ll be right out. I promise.”
Chapter Eleven
At the same time as the Duke was poring over his sea of documents, Julia and Poppy were spending their morning outside with many of the other guests, soaking up the glorious sunshine.
Three days. That was all that remained of the party, and of her uncle's patience, and of whatever window of opportunity the arrangement with Leander was supposed to produce. Julia tipped her face toward the warmth and told herself that three days was enough. It had to be. She had managed entire Seasons of her father's chaos on considerably less.
Around the back of the orangery, where their aunt was busy chatting with the ladies from her bridge club, there was a winding path that led through a small courtyard, past a vast hedge maze, and into a little private garden area with a beautifully painted gazebo. It was extremely far from the main house, which loomed in the distance, and both girls marveled at the extent of the estate, which would be impressive even for a country house, let alone one situated in the heart of London.
They had meandered down here quite by accident after deciding to take a break from the gaggle of older ladies. They now found themselves completely alone, separated by the orangery from the hubbub of the main garden. Julia had brought her book outside, and Poppy sat in bliss with the sun on her face, enjoying soaking in the rays.
“Oh, Julia, wouldn’t it be just perfect to do this every morning?” she sighed. “Even at home, our gazebo was never like this, with the sunshine in just the right spot.”
Looking up from her book for a moment, Julia felt a pang of sadness for the home they would never see again. In all the madness and chaos that had happened since they’d left for London, she hadn’t thought much about their house. She supposed it probably had new residents now; she wondered if they’d kept all the servants on and if they’d left the garden the way she had always tended it. She wondered if they had children. Would those children play in the same spots she and Poppy had? Would they sit in the gazebo and draw together, laughing until the sun set?
Poppy seemed to notice she’d brought the mood down. “I’m sorry, Julia. I didn’t mean to complain. Our home was wonderful.”
“No, you’re right.” Julia smiled faintly. “The sun never did quite hit the right spot. Perhaps if we’d had a full-time gardener, he could have moved the gazebo for us. We never thought to ask Father when we were young.”
“Do you think he would have done it?”
Julia shrugged. “I never could predict what he was going to do. One day he’d be as kind as anything, promising us the world, and the next he would be gone, out drinking until late into the night and having forgotten everything that he’d said the day before. But if you had asked him, Poppy, I think he would have moved the gazebo. You were always his favorite.”
Poppy smiled sadly. “That doesn’t count for much now, it seems. I wonder if the new family will move it.”
“Perhaps one day we’ll go and see,” Julia comforted her. “Wouldn’t that be nice? I’m sure they wouldn’t mind us going to take a look around our old haunts. We can comment on all the changes they’ve made to the furniture and see if our childhood secrets are still hidden away in the garden.”
“I’d like that very much.” Poppy squeezed her hand, then sighed again. “For now, I just want to enjoy this moment. Just the two of us, like it always was, before we have to go back to the party again.”
