Chapter 471: The Duke’s Peculiar Request

Chapter 470: The Duke’s Peculiar Request

Lyria’s POV

"Your G-Grace," I protested, "y-you must stop t-teasing him."

"Teasing him? I assure you, I have done nothing of the sort."

"You h-have done n-nothing else since e-entering the room."

"Have I not?" he asked, his head tilted in thought, as though the notion itself required careful consideration. "I had thought myself the very picture of consideration."

I shook my head at his Grace’s blatant act and then focused my attention upon Jim, whose arms remained folded and whose expression had grown steadily more closed with every exchange.

"Please do n-not concern y-yourself too much with H-his Grace’s behaviour. He has a n-natural flair for a-annoying people, and I have c-come to suspect t-that he c-considers it a p-particular accomplishment."

Duke Valenridge drew in a sharp breath, one hand placed dramatically upon his chest while his eyes widened in an exaggerated fashion that left no doubt as to its theatrical intent.

"Your Highness,you wound me," he declared.

"I d-do not believe y-you are w-wounded in the least, Y-your Grace."

"How cruel. To think that I should come here at your summons, prepared to render assistance to those in need, only to be rewarded with such an accusation."

"You h-have scarcely b-been accused of anything t-that is not t-true," I argued.

He regarded me for a moment before nodding with grave solemnity.

"Then I suppose I must bear the injustice with what dignity remains to me."

"You have p-plenty of d-dignity remaining, Your Grace. You are s-simply not m-making u-use of it." I replied him.

Duke Valenridge chuckled and shook his head, the sound low and genuine.

"Any time I converse with you, I realise how sharp you are with your words. You only feign gentleness in the presence of others," he said.

It was now my turn to resort to the dramatics. I gasped sharply and placed a hand over my breast in deliberate imitation of his earlier performance.

"Your G-Grace," I said, "you w-wound me."

Duke Valenridge could not help the laugh that escaped him, and I found myself smiling in return.

I turned back to Jim and noticed he was watching us, a frown upon his countenance, as though he could scarcely credit what manner of nobles as he so loved to call us, had been sent to render him and his town aid.

I could not blame him in the slightest for had I been in his position I should have the same exact thoughts and expression.

"Jesting aside," Duke Valenridge said, addressing Jim directly, "I shall show you the way to the spring, as Her Highness has requested. There is no reason to keep the place concealed when she has no intention of doing so, and I have no particular desire to guard it for myself—especially because it was never mine to begin with."

Jim studied him warily.

I understood the hesitation. To entrust a matter of importance to a man one did not trust was no small undertaking, particularly when that man belonged to a class of people one had spent years learning to distrust.

"Jim," I said softly.

"Your ’ighness?"

"You do r-recall our c-conversation, do y-you not?" I asked him. "D-do not judge w-with p-prejudice, rather b-be more open t-to the thought of u-understanding us as we d-do try t-to understand you."

Jim was quiet for a while. His gaze moved from me to the Duke and back again. At length his arms gradually unfolded, though the set of his shoulders remained tense.

"I’ll send a few people with ye, Yer Grace," he said at last. "They can see where it is an’ learn the way fer themselves. If it’s useful ter the village, then we’ll need more’n one person knowin’ ’ow ter get there."

"An eminently sensible arrangement," Duke Valenridge replied. He tilted his head slightly, the movement almost idle. "Though I must ask, do you fear me, Jim?"

The question was delivered so pleasantly that, for a moment, I wondered whether I had heard him correctly.

Jim certainly appeared to have heard him.

His face twisted into an expression that would have been considered insulting in almost any respectable drawing room. I felt an immediate urge to intervene before the conversation deteriorated further.

Yet Duke Valenridge only smiled, though I could not determine whether he was delighted by the response or no. He only gave a nod, as though some private suspicion of his own had been confirmed.

One thing I was beginning to understand of Duke Valenridge was that he was a difficult man to read. For some reason, I suspected he hid many things. He was honest, and yet not entirely honest. He was open, and yet guarded. He knew when to advance and when to retreat, and above all he was shrewd.

Perhaps not in the same manner as Baron Redwick or Lucian—those two were exceedingly clever in their respective ways—but Duke Valenridge was shrewd nonetheless. There was a calculated ease about him, a manner of speaking that invited confidence while revealing very little of his own thoughts.

This is one reason why I would rather have him an ally than an enemy. And after having known what little I knew of him, I was wuite certain that this was the reason the Crown disliked him a great deal.

Just then Duke Valenridge spoke, drawing me from my thoughts.

"Before we proceed to the spring, which I presume we shall do once we have taken our leave of this place, I have a request to make."

Jim’s brow furrowed at once.

"D’ye nobles never ’ave no requests?" he asked. "First ’er ’ighness, an’ now ye."

Duke Valenridge’s expression remained perfectly blank, neither offended nor amused.

"Perhaps," he said. "Though I must observe one thing — the request I bring is for every soul present, Jim, and not for you alone."

Jim’s eyes narrowed. He shifted his weight, the floorboards creaking faintly beneath his boots.

"Wot is it then?" He asked.