Ice Cold Duke (Frigid Dukes #2)

Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

“ W ell, you arrived in one piece!” Henry said, as he greeted them on the front steps of the Dredford London townhouse, his arms raised as if he were about to embrace them all at once and a silly grin on his face--which, Lucien suspected, meant that he knew how much of a trial the journey to London had been.

“We’re alive, yes,” Lucien grumbled as he took the steps two at a time and met his brother at the top. Henry’s arms fell to his sides, and he grinned.

“Did the girls talk nonstop the whole way?” Henry asked.

“They did.” Lucien glanced over his shoulder at where his sisters and wife were still disembarking from the carriage, laughing loudly with one another while their dogs jumped up and down, desperate for attention and to stretch their legs. “I thought I was going to lose my mind.”

“It was always like that growing up,” Henry said, shaking his head. “It wasn’t so bad for you because you would always travel separately from the rest of us, or on horseback. But I was forced to listen to them chatter to one another for whole journeys, and they never stop talking! I don’t understand how three women who spend so much time together still have so much to say to one another!”

“I don’t know either,” Lucien said, shaking his head. “This time, they mostly talked about their dogs. They really love those beasts.”

“You were very kind to let them keep them,” Henry said. His eyes, Lucien saw, were trained on Emery. “Is that her doing?”

“I suppose,” Lucien said gruffly. He didn’t particularly like his brother referring to his wife as her . It was far too familiar. Then again, they were close friends, and he would just have to get used to that.

“She’s good for you,” Henry said, with a note of surprise in his voice. “She makes you softer.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Lucien said at once, but Henry merely smiled.

“Whatever you say,” he said, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “But come, there are some things we need to discuss.”

“I should oversee the unpacking…” Lucien began, but Henry pointed to where Emery was standing at the back of the carriage, directing the footmen, her hands on her hips.

“I think your wife has everything under control,” Henry pointed out. “She’s a very capable, competent woman.”

Lucien said nothing as he turned and followed Henry into the house. She’s a very capable, competent woman . Was Henry beginning to have feelings for Emery? Was it possible that seeing her married to his older brother had suddenly made her more appealing?

You’re being paranoid , he told himself sternly, as he followed Henry across the hall and to the study.

But why? Why was he suddenly paranoid about such a silly thing? Maybe it had something to do with last night and dancing with his wife. He had barely allowed himself to think about it all day, even when he’d been stuck in close quarters with her all day in the carriage.

And yet, it had been difficult not to think about it a little, especially whenever she caught his gaze from across the carriage and smiled. Then he would instantly be flooded with memories of how she had felt in his arms, of her sly smiles and sparkling laughter, of the way she had looked--shy and excited all at once--when he’d almost kissed her.

His throat grew dry, and Lucien cleared his throat. Closing the study behind him and Henry, he went to the sideboard and poured himself a scotch. I need a drink if my wife is making me think such things.

“You want one?” he asked his brother gruffly.

“Go on then.”

Henry sounded cheerful enough, but when he took the glass from Lucien, his expression fell slightly.

“What is it?” Lucien asked at once, his stomach dropping. His usually cheerful brother would only look concerned if there was something seriously to be concerned about.

“It’s the rumors of your happy marriage,” Henry said, sighing before he threw back the scotch. Making a face, he set the glass back on the sideboard. “The rumors are not taking root.”

“What? Why not?” Lucien’s stomach curled uncomfortably. It was as he feared: everything was ruined, and Leah’s debut would now be a disaster.

“Well, people are certainly curious about you, Emery,” Henry said, leaning back against the window. “But they don’t seem convinced that you are happily married. Many of them seem to believe that I must have done something scandalous and that you married her to cover up for my indiscretion.”

“Like what?” Lucien demanded. “What could you have done?”

“I’m not sure exactly,” Henry said slowly. “It’s been hard to get a straight answer from anyone, because of course, they don’t want to offend me and alienate the brother of a duke. But apparently there are rumors that I had asked someone else to marry me, even though I was already engaged to Emery.”

“That makes no sense,” Lucien growled. Then he paused, and his eyes narrowed as he took in his brother’s guilty expression. “There can’t be any truth to that, could there?” he demanded.

“No, of course not!” Henry said at once. He hesitated. “I would never have dishonored Emery like that. However, there was an incident, a few nights before the wedding, when I was in my cups, when I may have mentioned there was another lady I wished I could marry. But I had not mentioned anything to the lady! Nor to Emery. I would never.”

Lucien suddenly recalled something his brother had said in Cornwall. There is someone else. A young lady to whom I have formed a deep attachment. At the time, Lucien had been so incensed by his brother’s presumption that he should follow his heart over doing his duty that he hadn’t thought to ask more about this mysterious young lady to whom his brother had formed an attachment.

“Who is she?” he asked now. “Who is the lady you said you wished you could marry?”

As predicted, his brother flushed scarlet. “It doesn’t matter,” he said quickly. “I have not spoken to her of any of my feelings nor even seen her--except for once at a small gathering, and not alone--since the debacle with the wedding. Right now, I am focused only on helping rectify my mistake and help restore our family reputation.”

“Well you clearly have more work to do!” Lucien snapped. “Because our reputation is not restored. To whom did you mention your attachment? Could this person have spread this rumor?”

Henry lowered his eyes, as if in shame. “It was at White’s,” he mumbled.

Lucien let out a groan. If he hadn’t been holding his drink in his hand still, he might have put his head in his hands. “How could you be so foolish?” he snarled. “Mentioning another woman a few days before your wedding and in a hotbed of gossip like White’s?”

“I was in my cups!” Henry said, scowling. “But you’re right. I’m very sorry, Lucien.”

Lucien didn’t know what to say. He was angry at his brother, but more than that, he was worried. If they weren’t able to fix things, Leah would be tainted by association.

He took the moment to take a long sip of his scotch, and when he lowered his glass, it was to see Henry watching him with a sheepish look on his face.

“What is it now?” he asked, his trepidation growing.

“Er, well, it’s a bit awkward,” Henry said, his cheeks growing pink again.

“Spit it out.”

“Well… It turns out that my loose tongue is not the only rumor that has reached London.”

Lucien’s stomach sank. “What else?”

Henry looked down at his feet. His ears, Lucien noted, had turned scarlet. “I have heard it from several reliable sources that the gossip from Dredford Castle is that you and the new Duchess do not sleep together in the same bed.”

Silence echoed throughout the room, as long as a shout, and Lucien felt his own face begin to heat. Fortunately, Henry was still staring down at his feet, which spared Lucien the shame of having to make eye contact with him.

“This rumor,” Henry continued, in a voice of utter embarrassment, “has reinforced for some that the marriage is not a happy one, and was perhaps done in the spur of the moment to distract from some greater scandal. It has led some to speculate that we, as a family, are hiding something particularly dire. Something that might be ruinous for us.”

Lucien said nothing. He felt trapped. Whatever he said, he felt he would be either confirming the rumor or lying. And this was the last thing on earth he wanted to discuss with his younger brother--not to mention his wife’s former fiancé.

At last, when the silence had stretched out to an uncomfortable length, Henry looked up. His face was still pink, but he looked remarkably determined when he spoke again.

“Look, Lucien, the relations between you and Emery are none of my business,” he said, and despite the awkwardness of the situation, Lucien had to admire how straight-forward his brother was. “I know that the two of you don’t know each other well and that there was certain animosity about the circumstances of the marriage. What you two decide to make of your marriage is your own business.”

“Get to the point,” Lucien snapped, and Henry nodded, blushing again.

“My point is, while we are in London, I believe you will have to do whatever you can to rectify this rumor.”

“And what would you suggest I do?” Lucien asked, a hint of condescension in his voice. Is my little brother really about to recommend I consummate my marriage?

“I believe that you should not have the Duchess’s chamber prepared and that she should sleep with you in the Ducal chamber.” Henry said all of this very quickly, and at the end of it, he looked away again, over Lucien’s shoulder.

Lucien had never wished more in his life that he could just disappear. The awkwardness of this conversation was unbearable. And yet, he also knew it had taken an incredible strength of character for his brother to bring up something so deeply taboo. It must have been torture for Henry to tell him, but he had done it for the good of the family.

He’s growing up. He’s taking responsibility and doing what needs to be done even if it is uncomfortable or difficult.

This, at least, heartened Lucien, and he forced himself to speak, if at least to put his brother out of his misery. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

Henry glanced at him, and his face and shoulders relaxed slightly as he took in Lucien’s expression, which he was working hard to keep calm and reassuring. He kept repeating to himself, What would Emery do? And Emery would surely try to make this situation less awkward for all of them, instead of becoming cold and cruel, which was Lucien’s instinct. “I will take your advice into consideration.”

“Thank you,” Henry said, and he bowed. “I think I’ll go say hello to our sisters.”

He left the room, and Lucien finished the rest of his drink in one gulp. The burn of the drink warmed him, and also seemed to take away some of the dread he was feeling. He went to the window, which looked out over the drive. His sisters had gone inside, but Emery was still out by the carriages, supervising the footmen as they carried the trunks up the steps and into the house. She looked as if she were in her element; as if she were a commander directing her troops on the battlefield.

If I thought that was hard, it’s nothing to the conversation I’m about to have, Lucien thought gloomily. Because now I have to tell my wife that she will be sharing my bedroom until Leah is married.