Page 71 of The Truth About Dukes
Tell me why you’re here.Jane could not make that demand and hope to get anywhere with Sir Leviticus. Anybody who’d endured several years in Stephen’s employ would be a stout opponent in a battle of wits, and utterly loyal to Stephen. She considered strategy while she poured herself a cup of tea and stirred in a dollop of milk.
“Stephen once pointed a loaded gun at me,” she said. “He thought he was protecting his brother. Mind you, at the time Stephen could barely stand unaided, he was years away from his majority, and his brother didn’t need protecting—not from me anyway. If I were sent to my reward tomorrow, I could die secure in the knowledge that Stephen will guard with his life anybody whom he loves.”
Sir Leviticus paused between sandwiches. “As you would die to protect him. I would expect no less, given how his lordship rhapsodizes about his family. My errand does not involve any looming threat to Lord Stephen’s person or to his business interests.”
Jane’s stomach ceased roiling. Stephen had a temper, and as a younger man, he’d not always had self-restraint sufficient to match his passions. He’d fought duels, a notion that gave Jane nightmares, and if anything happened to Stephen, Quinn would not recover.
Janewould not recover. She had no sons, no brothers, not even male cousins, but she had Stephen whether he wanted her loyalty or not.
“He needs a wife,” Jane muttered, and immediately hoped Sir Leviticus was too busy impersonating a plague of locusts to have heard her.
“The men who need wives are often the last to marry. Your tea will grow cold, Your Grace, and you should try the sandwiches. They are quite good.”
Breakfast had been hours ago, and everything Monsieur Henri prepared was scrumptious. Jane chose a butter-and-cheese sandwich, in deference to an expectant mother’s unreliable digestion.
“I worry about Stephen, you know. He applies his considerable mental faculties to denying that the ducal title will become his, though all indications are that is exactly what will happen.”
Sir Leviticus had the blue eyes of a man who hailed from the north, and they were trustworthy blue eyes too.
“Lord Stephen won’t inherit that title anytime soon, Your Grace. You have years to find him a wife, and he has time to accustom himself to the notion of a spouse. He adores his nieces, as I’m sure you know.”
“He does, doesn’t he?” A comforting notion, despite the fact that Stephen was always careful to couch his affection in irascible tones. “The girls adore him too. He taught Hester how to pick locks and he’s showing her how to build clocks.”
“A fine skill for a duke’s daughter to have.”
“He reads to them,” she said more softly, “and he changes all the knights in the stories into warrior maidens, and makes the dragons l-limp.” Oh,dratthe sentimentality that came with carrying a child.
“Your Grace,” Sir Leviticus said, holding out a lawn handkerchief. “This is most unfair. I can battle opposing counsel on the most complex cases, recite the common law of contracts from end to end, and bear arms in defense of my country, but a lady’s tears render me powerless.”
Jane dabbed at her eyes, while mentally cursing motherhood, charming solicitors, and complicated family situations. She could not tell this stranger that Constance had gone in search of a daughter soon to be shipped off to the ends of the earth. Could not convey to him that Rothhaven and Constance would allow only Stephen’s assistance on that errand.
Could not tell him that Quinn hadn’t slept for most of the past two nights, and probably wouldn’t sleep until his siblings were back at Lynley Vale, and his prodigal niece under guardianship to a duke or two.
“I apologize for burdening you with this display,” she said. “Lady Althea is soon to wed, and while we are overjoyed for her and for Lord Nathaniel, every change is an adjustment.”
Sir Leviticus held up a plate of tea cakes. “My wife grows weepy from time to time. An occasional sweet seems to calm her humors.”
Good Lord, how much had Stephen told him? Jane took a raspberry tea cake and found that it did taste particularly satisfying.
“I have not met Lord Nathaniel,” Sir Leviticus said, topping up his tea. “I gather few people can claim that honor. Are the nuptials imminent?”
The tea, the sandwich, and the sweet were fortifying. Jane was supposed to be conducting an interrogation, after all. Quinn would expect no less of her, and she expected no less of herself. Why would a lawyer ostensibly in Stephen’s employ come pelting out to Lynley Vale, when Stephen’s interests were not in jeopardy?
“The happy couple has yet to set a date,” she said, “and neither are they having banns called. We will probably come down to breakfast some morning and find ourselves with a new brother-in-law. Wentworths can be impetuous in matters of the heart. Tell me, Sir Leviticus, did you grow up in Yorkshire?”
“I did, Your Grace, but I was sent off to public school to get the accent beaten out of me. Headmaster was not entirely successful. Then it was off to Spain to chase Boney’s minions back to France. Another tea cake?”
“No, thank you. Have you any legal dealings with the Rothmere family, Sir Leviticus?”
He set his teacup down a bit too slowly. “Why would you ask that, Your Grace?”
“Because I can think of no other reason for a well-to-do solicitor to race out from town, full of news about some matter involving Lord Stephen—or involving the family his sister is soon to marry into. I thus conclude that his lordship set you to spying, and your skulking about has borne fruit. If the evil tidings relate to the Rothmere family, I can assure you we are in His Grace of Rothhaven’s confidence regarding the family history and we regard it as just that: history.” She rose, more quickly than she should have. “In the past, ofno moment. Do I make myself clear?”
Sir Leviticus was on his feet as well. “Your Grace, may I be blunt?”
“You shall be nothing but.”
“Lord Stephen asked me to do a favor for His Grace of Rothhaven. I thought the request odd, but lawyers are often expected to handle matters requiring discretion. Might we sit?”
