How to Fool a Duke (The Husband Dilemma #1) - Lancaster, Mary Page 0,40
turned back, her eyes narrowed. “Are you still trying to defeat him?”
“Partly.”
“Oh, don’t throw him away, Sarah. He loves you.”
Sarah couldn’t deny the flood of pleasure at hearing the words, though she immediately demanded, “How do you know?”
Lady Whitmore’s lips parted and then closed again. “I know,” she said firmly. “Will you sing at my soiree when your parents are here?”
“Of course. Though I warn you, my voice will probably crack, and it will all go horribly wrong.”
“I see no reason why it should. You sang beautifully for His Grace. Several times. Settle things, my dear. Don’t leave yourself with all these unnecessary anxieties.”
It was sound advice, but as it happened, she did not see the duke for several days. She wondered if he had finally lost interest in her, or if he was still playing the game, waiting for her to crack first.
Chapter Twelve
Mr. James had arranged for a private meeting between the duke and his solicitor, Jenkins. A necessary distraction from the pleasantries of excavation and pursuing Lady Sarah. But hard facts had come to light that Leonard could no longer ignore after his fastidious secretary had done a deeper investigation about the cottage and land that Lady Whitmore had agreed to sell him only days ago, then unexpectedly offered to lease to him.
All three men sat at a table in the cabin the duke hoped to make his own soon, staring at each other in silence, the solicitor looking like he wished to be anywhere else.
“I want answers, Jenkins,” Leonard demanded.
“Of course, Your Grace.” The man’s eyes clouded over with something akin to fear.
“How many years have you handled my personal affairs?”
“Since the death of the late duke, Your Grace. And before that, I was privileged to serve your father for twenty years, if not more.”
Leonard nodded and rubbed his chin, considering the small-statured man. He wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but Mr. James assured him there was life-altering news to be shared by the solicitor.
“I did not summon you here to play whist,” the duke said. “Why the sudden change in terms for the property?”
Mr. Jenkins shook his head. “I am not at liberty to say.”
“But you are, sir,” Mr. James interjected. “I warned you that I have conducted my own investigation, including the baptismal records and marriage records at the church in nearby Chelton. Lady Whitmore is not who she appears to be, is she?”
The solicitor glanced at Mr, James, then stared at the duke. “I am within my rights to declare a conflict of interest between myself and yours and Lady Whitmore’s personal business. Perhaps I can direct you to another solicitor within my firm to handle your future endeavors?”
Leonard smacked his open hand on the table, hoping to intimidate the stubborn man. “One way or another, Mr. Jenkins, I will have my answers—even if it means tossing you about first.”
The solicitor reached for his cravat and seemed to loosen it some to breathe easier, his face splotched red. “Your Grace, such threats are unnecessary, I assure you.”
“What are the chances of Lady Whitmore and His Grace sharing a solicitor?” Mr. James asked. “And what are the chances of our gracious hostess having the same first name as the duke’s dearly departed mother?”
“Julia is a common enough name,” Mr. Jenkins said quietly.
“Lady Whitmore is a widow. Has an estranged son who resides mostly in London. His name is…”
“Please, Mr. James.” The solicitor shot up from his seat and started pacing. “Giving voice to such facts could start a scandal.”
“Why?” Leonard asked.
“Whitmore is a special place, as you know, Your Grace. The lady invested all her time and money to make it what it is today—a sanctuary for lost souls.”
“I am aware of her charitable acts. I approve deeply and wish to help support her causes, actually.”
Mr. Jenkins managed to stop and offer the duke a weak smile. “She is an extraordinary woman.”
“Yes.”
“Some people do not wish to be found, sir.”
Yes, Leonard had considered that when he and Mr. James had discussed some of his findings from the investigation—however… He gazed at his secretary, really his friend if Society allowed it, and nodded once, giving Mr. James permission to proceed.
“Frankly, Mr. Jenkins, His Grace believes it would serve a greater purpose to find out if Lady Whitmore is indeed the Dowager Duchess of Vexen.”
“Hellfire…” the man said, not apologetic for cursing. “Would you bring down the House of Whitmore simply to satisfy your need for a mother?”
Leonard stood abruptly. “You forget