Although he had free reign of the Castle, by order of the Duke, he generally remained in his chamber, or the library. If he passed the Duchess or Lady Mary, they’d curtsy but with an ever-present glare.
As though they wished I would drop dead just by the power of their stare.
The only respite from the loneliness had been the occasional conversations with the Duke of Oxshire. Theirs had been fruitful conversations, although conducted with care. It was almost as if the two men feared spooking one another by getting too familiar so soon.
A century of distrust and discord could not be resolved within a couple of days, after all. Trust between the two would have to be built over time. He was hopeful that, once Liam arrived and they reconnected, they would be able to further their new-found relationship with the Duke of Oxshire.
He sighed and stuck his hand into the tailcoat pocket the Duke had loaded for him. The snuff box was still in there. He planned on giving it to the Duke when they met again, later on that afternoon. They’d agreed to go for a ride together, so Lysander could get a better view of the property.
He’d intended to use the opportunity to bring up the matter of his feelings for Seraphina then, a subject that was avoided by both men. But that was a non-subject now.
I cannot believe I’ve been so wrong about her. That she could have such thoughts about me as to call me a thief.
He was still shaken by the unpleasant exchange. He’d known of Seraphina’s fiery temper, though it had never been directed at him. He still did not quite know what had made her react as she had. He’d approached her, hoping they could talk about the future, their future. If she still wanted one.
It appeared clear that she did not. It crushed him to know the woman he’d grown so fond of, that he thought himself in love with, had turned on him and pushed him away in such a harsh manner. And all of it because he was a Keswick. For so long, he’d thought the feud silly, and nothing more than a nuisance. Now, it had changed the course of his life and broke his heart.
He was deep in thought when the sound of hooves came from behind him. He stopped and stood aside to let whoever was coming up pass by.
“Laddie!” He heard George’s voice from behind him. The old man was walking beside a majestic black stallion Lysander hadn’t seen before.
“George, good to see you. Who is this beauty?”
The man shrugged. “Ah dinnae ken, one of the maids spotted him from the road yesterday. Just caught him this morning and got him cleaned up. Was a right mess, this one.” He patted the horse’s neck. Lysander frowned.
“May I?” he asked before stepping closer to the horse.
“Knock yerself out, la…” He stopped and blinked. “Yer Grace, I mean.” He bowed in a comical manner that made Lysander smile. How quickly things changed. Not two days ago George had been his superior and ordered him around. Now he was bowing to him.
I must admit, I almost liked it better before. I do not enjoy being bowed to and held up in such a manner only because of my title.
“Please, George. Do not bow. I rather liked it when you called me laddie.”
George smirked. “So did I. Alas, yer not a lad. Yer the bloody Duke of Emberborough. The devil hisself, if ye ask Her Grace, the Duchess.”
He nodded, “So I’ve heard. I’m only glad His Grace is not as rigid in his thinking.”
George shrugged. “His Grace is a good man. He’ll give ye a square go. Shame his little daughter, Lady Mary, takes after her Mother, in that regard.” Then he winked, “At least Lady Seraphina has a heid of her own on the matter. But ye know that.”
Lysander’s smile faded as he took the horse’s reins and examined him.
“I surely thought I did. I was wrong.”
George frowned. “What are ye talking aboot?”
Lysander shrugged and stepped back.
“I know this horse. It is the one I rode when I was attacked and lost my memory. Its home is at the Cheadle Posting House.” He turned to George. “Perhaps when my family arrives, we can have the horse returned there. I am sure we will be passing it on our way back to Emberborough Estate.”
“So, yer leavin. But what of Lady Seraphina? I thought you were graftin’ on one another. Gonae give up with such ease?”
Lysander found himself amused at being challenged by the groom. He was glad that, despite the revelation of his high status in society, the man did not appear intimidated at all. In fact, he spoke to him almost as if he were a stable hand still.
It feels good to just be able to talk to someone as if I were a mere commoner. Not a duke. Not someone who must be respected and cannot be told the truth.
“I was wrong about Lady Seraphina. It appears the young woman is as easily captured by the age-old tales of the evil Keswicks as is everyone else in the family, save for Lady Cynthia.”
George shook his head. “Naw, ye must be mistaken. The lassie despises the blasted feud as much as any clear-thinking person does.”
Lysander stemmed his hands onto his hips, pulling his shoulders back.
“Then why did she all but declare me a thief yesterday? Claiming I stole this from her Father?” He pulled the snuff box out of his pocket, waving it about in front of the old man’s face. “She all but drove me away with her words. It is clear the revelation that I am a Keswick has extinguished all love she might have carried in her heart for me.”
Suddenly, he felt his eyes water and a sharp pain pierced his chest. He turned away, wiping his eyes roughly with the sleeve of his shirt. “No matter, I will simply carry on as I always have. At least I have established a connection with His Grace, the Duke of Oxshire. That is something to take out of all of this, I suppose.”
“Oh, do yer dinger! Ye might be a Duke but ye still as dafty as a commoner.”
Taken aback but the harsh words, Lysander tilted his head to one side.
“What is the meaning of this outburst?”
George sighed in exasperation and shook his head.
“Ye don’t know that the girl has lost her head over ye? She’s afeared, the lass. Afeared. In her heid, her paw and maw wull never accept ye. All her life she been told ye Keswick lot are the de’il. Don’t ye think she worried that ye’ve been told the same? That ye might not want her anymore? She lashes out to make sure ye donae break her herty first.”
Lysander swallowed. He’d never considered the possibility that Seraphina was just as scared as he was. But George was right. Surely, she had the same fears as he. She’d been filled with stories about how no Keswick was trustworthy for as long as he’d been told them same about the Camdens. She had to worry he’d think badly of her.
Could it be that she was simply so angry because she thought it better to push me away than to have me leave?
“The look on yer face tells me ye never thought of it. Well, ye’d better. Before it’s too late.”
Lysander shook his head. “Her family would never approve of a union between us, she is not wrong to have that fear.”
George shrugged. “Dinnae be too sure about that. As I said. Whit’s fur ye’ll no go by ye! Talk to the lass.”
Lysander rubbed his lips together, deep in thought. Talk to her? Even if she would talk to him, how was he supposed to do that? He resided in the Castle for the time being. He could not simply sneak away for a secret meeting, surely.
“I cannot simply appear at her chamber. And I am not welcome at dinner or in the family drawing room.”
George scratched his chin and then dropped his shoulders in resignation.
“Very well. I suppose I could help ye lovebirds. Lemme think on it. In the meantime, mayhap it is not such a good idea for Yer Grace to be wandering about alone out here.”
Lysander frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The archer, of course, are ye daft? Or have ye remembered why you were followed?”
Lysander shook his head. “I know I was followed, but I do not know by whom. I supposed I never did. But I know I was followed ever since I left
home.” He paused. “It is why I left home.”
So much has been going on over the course of the past couple of days, he’d not considered that the assailant was likely still out there. He’d come after him again, that was certain. But in brought daylight? No. He didn’t think so.
“Well then, perhaps ye had better stick close to the Castle. Now, I’ll help ye out with Lady Seraphina, but ye had better figure out who ye’s angered, lest ye should put the young lass in danger. Then you’d have me to contend with.”
Without so much as a bow, George carried on toward the paddock. The horse, the only witness to Lysander’s initial accident, trotting behind him.
Chapter 33
Seraphina sat on a bale of hay in the barn and watched kittens roll around in the little basket George had placed there for the kittens and their mother. She smiled and watched as the four small kittens crawled in the basket, each making their way toward their mother. The mother lay on her side and watched as her three-day old babies tumbled over one another. At last, they reached their destination and Glory, their mother, nursed the four babies as the girls watched.
“I would rather like to take one of the kittens to London with me,” Cynthia said. Seraphina shook her head.
“You are leaving in two weeks; they will be too small yet. Perhaps when you return for Christmastide? You could choose one and I will keep it safe for you.”
Cynthia nodded, “The one that looks as though it is a big eater. The orange one with the white markings on the back. I bet he will be a sturdy, strong cat.”
Seraphina smiled for the first time in days as she watched her sister’s eyes light up.
“I shall name him Rudy,” she added.
Seraphina frowned. “What if it is a girl?”
Her sister shrugged, “It does not matter, it is a lovely name either way. Suitable, I should say.”
The sisters fell silent as they watched the kittens eat. Eventually, all but the orange-and-white colored one removed themselves from their mother and proceeded to sleep.
“You look peaceful for the first time in days,” Cynthia commented, giving Seraphina a sidelong glance.
“It was kind of George to speak to Papa so he’d let me see the kittens.”
“Indeed,” Cynthia nodded. The expression on her face was unreadable which made Seraphina instantly suspicious. Her sister was usually like an open book. However, before she could ask George stepped into the barn.
“Lady Cynthia, would ye mind terrible giving an old man a hand?”
As if on cue, Cynthia jumped up. “Of course!” She turned to her sister. “I will be back in just a moment. You will be quite all right on your own, I trust?”
Seraphina frowned, “I imagine I will be; I doubt the kittens will attempt to eat me while you are gone.”
“Good, good,” Cynthia said, ignoring her snide remark. She departed, followed by George, who winked at Seraphina.
“Ye holler if ye need something,”
Shaking her head at this odd behavior, Seraphina tuned her attention back to the kittens. Three of them were now sleeping, while the fourth, the orange one, was still nursing. Even Glory, the mother cat, was dozing off.
“May I?” a male voice asked. When she turned her head, her heart dropped, and her breath caught in her throat.
“Ol…Your Grace, I mean.” She attempted to stand in order to curtsy, but he stopped her.
“Please, sit. Your foot.”
She swallowed but did as he had told her. She did not dare look at him. Thoughts of her ugly words and wild accusations still hung between them. In fact, she was not even sure why he was here and talking to her at all. Surely, if he had any affection left after discovering his identity, she’d have killed it all the other day with her harsh words.
However, it appeared he was determined to speak with her for he sat on the bale of hay beside her.
“How adorable they are. I have a lovely grey cat at home, in Gloucester. Oliver is his name. I cannot wait to see him again.”
Seraphina glanced at him. He was dressed in another of her father’s nice outfits, except for the tailcoat. She recognized it as the one they’d found at the stream.
“I see Lottie mended your tailcoat. It looks good as new.”
He nodded, “Indeed, it is.” He paused and then turned his entire body so he faced her. “I returned the snuff box to your Father. After removing my comfits, of course. I am sure it is filled with the best of snuff by now,” he shuddered but there was a grin on his face.
Why is he not angry at me? I certainly would be, had he spoken to me the way I did him.
She’d spent the past two days in utter misery, thinking she’d driven him away. She’d been sure he would never wish to see her again. And she could not blame him. She’d been so sure that everything between them was in ruins that she had requested Cynthia might take her along to London, so she could join the Asylum. For, she certainly would never love another the way she had him. She would never allow herself to.
“Sera?” His deep voice drew her out of her thoughts.
“Yes?”
“I asked what you were thinking. You are lost in thought, that much I know.”
She shrugged, focusing on the sleeping kittens. Even the orange and white one had joined its siblings as they all slept curled into a ball.
“I thought about the things I said to you. The hurt I caused you. It was…I did not mean the things I said. I knew you were no thief.”
For a moment, he simply looked at her and then, to her utter shock, he reached for her hand.
“I know. I did not realize it then, but after a very wise man had a talk with me, I do now. I know you were scared. As was I. We have both heard nothing but terrible stories about the other family all our lives. I know that there is much we must overcome. So many years of hatred, so many one-sided stories that we must examine. So much hurt to overcome. However, I believe we can. Together.”
She felt tears springing into her eyes as she clasped her fingers around his hand.
“Oh, Oliver…I…Lysander. I do not know how. My parents—”
He placed a finger gently on her lips.
“I do not care what your Mother thinks. She is not one who is easy to please, I declare. Your Father, on the other hand, appears more eager to set aside the feud. Especially after I assured him that I have no desire to claim any part of the Oxshire Estate nor Vallant Castle.” He smiled. “Well, there is one incredibly special part, or person, that I would like to claim.”
She felt herself blush. “You have spoken to my Father of the possibility of…”
He shook his head before she could finish. “Not yet. I felt it prudent to first speak to you and see if…well…if you even still wanted me. If I was right to assume you spoke out of fear and anger, that is.” He sighed and leaned back. “I have thought much these past few days. About who I am, who I’d like to be. The feud and its implications upon all of our lives.”
She nodded quietly, still relishing the feeling of his skin pressed against her. “So have I.” In truth, she’d mostly spent the last few days chiding herself for allowing herself to be drawn into the feud and to allow it to risk everything she ever dreamed of having. “So, what have you concluded?”
He smiled, a sparkled in his eyes. “I decided that what I’ve wanted ever since I met you, is you. That hasn’t changed simply because I recovered my memories. I had hoped you came to the same conclusion. That perhaps, who we are ought not to change how we feel about one another. Instead, I had hoped perhaps how we feel about one another can be the beginning of something new, something quite wonderful for us and our families.”
Her heart melted at his words, for it was true. If theirs, a union of love, was accepted by their families, perhaps this feud could be put to an end at last. If…
“But what of your family? You have told me little of your family, other than your sister. Will they accept me?”
He smirked, which made an unease creep up inside her
. As if on instinct she started to draw her hand away, but he clasped it ever closer.
“My Mother has relished in hating the Camdens. But truthfully, she has little else in her life. The death of my sister…” he sighed heavily. “It crushed her as it crushed us all. And my Mother was raised to despise your family. But I still hope that they will accept you. If they do not,” he shrugged, “as much as I dislike my position, I am Duke and one of the most influential and richest in the realm. Together, we can build something new.”
He left the statement lingering between them in the room. Seraphina thought of her mother and Mary, neither of whom would willingly accept a Keswick into their midst. But perhaps he was right, and it did not matter. They could build a family of their own. With time, perhaps, theirs could grow to accept the new reality.
The Trouble with Saving a Duke: A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 23