Must Love Dukes (13 page)

“We shall see. I may be too weary and in need of a nap when you return for our chat.”

“Very well. Keep your juicy secrets. I may never forgive you, but that will be on your shoulders.” With a warm smile and a tug of her fingers in farewell he left the room.

The scent of lilies swirled through the open door to fill the empty space her brother had left. She closed her eyes for just a moment and allowed the joy of receiving flowers from a handsome duke to surround her. He might be mad—and maddening, come to think of it—but there were some small benefits to knowing him. He had rid her of Hingsworth. It was done in a most barbaric fashion, but the sentiment remained good. What would he make her do next? She feared it and yet, on some bizarre level, she felt a small degree of anticipation.

***

A shopping excursion filled the following afternoon. Lillian flicked the end of the ribbon back and forth between her fingers, entranced by the thread of silver catching the afternoon light from the shop window. She’d agreed to come with Nathaniel, who insisted he could find a masculine lace with which to trim his shirt cuffs. At times he truly did fuss over his appearance more than any lady of her acquaintance.

After browsing through the shop twice, Lillian grew bored. Twenty minutes after that, all of the baskets of ribbon on the table before her were sorted by color and the fashion plates on the chair at her side were sorted by date. She was ready to leave. Sinking steadily deeper into this state of dull expiration by the second, Lillian heard the door open and a familiar voice at her back. Turning, she saw the duchess of Thornwood sweeping into the small shop with a girl a few years younger than Lillian trailing in her wake.

“Miss Phillips, imagine seeing you here!” The older woman enclosed Lillian’s fingers within her own in greeting and did not let go.

“Your Grace,” Lillian said with a smile as she glanced around to see if an introduction for her brother was necessary. But Nathaniel was so consumed with comparing two types of white lace with the shopkeeper that he didn’t notice Lillian’s new company. She twitched her fingers, but the duchess did not seem to want her to flee, since she didn’t release her grip.

“Lillian, this is my daughter, Miss Grey. She will be making the rounds in all the ballrooms and parlors next season. Won’t you, dear? Roselyn, this is Miss Phillips.”

The young, dark-haired beauty dipped into a shallow curtsy.

“It’s lovely to make your acquaintance. Please call me Lillian.”

“I look forward to seeing you next year when I’m allowed out of our home,” Roselyn stated.

“I look forward to that as well,” Lillian returned with a grin over the young girl’s saucy response. She had the same gray-blue eyes the duke possessed. On her they looked mischievous, while on His Grace they appeared more all-seeing and intrusive. He had a sister. He’d never mentioned her before. What else was he hiding?

“Patience, dear, patience,” Her Grace admonished. “You act as if I have you chained in a dungeon! Your come-out is only a year away. And you’re allowed more liberties than I was at your age.”

“I should hope so. When you were my age, ladies still wove fabric for tunics while minstrels sang,” Roselyn retorted with a grin.

“You should watch yourself or I’ll turn my joisting stick on you.” The duchess laughed, releasing Lillian’s hand to poke her finger into her daughter’s side.

“Yes, Mama.” Roselyn smiled at her mother. “I’m going to look around.”

There was clearly a playful, loving atmosphere in their family. Lillian couldn’t help comparing that love to what she had in her own family. Aside from Nathaniel, there was no comparison. How did the duke’s arrogant and annoying nature fit into this family? Perhaps he was above their jovial ways since he held the family title. Of course, the Devon Gray she met a year ago had been a laughing, teasing man. And for a brief moment at the Geddings’ ball she saw that man again on the terrace. Then, he closed himself off once more and left her there alone.

What had happened to him in the past year to change his nature? Or had that afternoon in the tavern all been a lie? That was when she realized his mother was still speaking to her.

“Are you purchasing a few new things to go to the Amberstall house party? You are going, aren’t you? It’s always such a delightful event, and Amber Hollow is a fine estate.”

Lillian cleared her throat and forced her mind back to the conversation at hand. “I received an invitation but had not yet decided.”

“Oh, you must go. Edwina, Lady Amberstall, is my dear friend. She would certainly want you in attendance. As do I. Her son will be going on about his prize horses, but if one overlooks his constant chatter, it’s quite lovely. Edwina’s cook makes the best cucumber sandwiches. You must attend if only for the sandwiches.”

“I don’t usually travel in the name of sandwiches, Your Grace.”

“Oh, but you should. They really are worth it. I remember when your mother and I went to this dreadful luncheon at the Earl of Henwick’s home. We were starved by the end of the afternoon, the sandwiches completely inedible, you know, and then dessert was brought out. We devoured those lemon cakes in a most unladylike fashion.” She began to laugh, her gray eyes bright as she told the story. “I will always remember her that way, with her cheeks filled with lemon custard, trying to carry on a polite conversation with Lady Simperton, of all people. It was quite a sight.”

“Yes, Mama always did enjoy sweets.” A warm feeling washed over Lillian as she remembered the cakes she had shared with her mother as a child at teatime.

“But fret not. You won’t have to resort to such measures at the Amberstall event. Excellent fare. I’ll let Edwina know this afternoon that you will be attending. She will be delighted to meet you. She was a friend of your mother’s as well. And I’ll ensure she puts out plenty of cucumber sandwiches.”

“Very well, then. I shall attend. All on the recommendation of a tea sandwich.” Lillian laughed.

“That is splendid news! I will leave you to your shopping, then.” She gave Lillian’s hand one last squeeze as her smile turned sly. “And I believe my son may be there as well. This should be such fun!”

Lillian’s jaw dropped as she realized she’d been outmaneuvered. How had she fallen into such an obvious trap?

Her Grace was already halfway out the door, as if she knew Lillian would eventually find her tongue and protest. “Come along, Roselyn. No reason to tarry, dear. I must get to the milliner’s to discuss my hat order,” she called over her shoulder and left the little shop.

Nathaniel sauntered up to Lillian’s side as the door closed behind Roselyn. “Do you prefer this white lace or this one with the hint of candlelight?”

Still fuming over being handled and potentially match-made with her nemesis, Lillian hardly looked at the lace in her brother’s hand. “They look the same to me, Nathaniel. And I can’t think about lace at a time like this.”

“They are two completely different shades of white. How could you possibly think them the same? Wait, what do you mean a time like this? We are having a lovely shopping day together.”

“I mean with the Amberstall house party just around the corner and being forced to attend by…” She paused at his confounded look. “Did you hear none of that conversation?”

“What conversation?”

“I have been persuaded into attending the Amberstall house party by the duchess of Thornwood.”

“Thornwood? How odd that we were just speaking of her son yesterday morning. Will he be attending?”

“Yes. And now so must I!”

“We’ll have to get a maid to travel with you, for I’ll be in the country for the next week on a little holiday.”

“Where are you going? You could force me to go with you!”

“Oh, no. I will be at a hunting lodge with a friend.”

“You don’t hunt.”

“I know,” he said with a wistful sigh. “You can’t come with me, darling. Not this time.”

Lillian’s shoulders sank a fraction as she stared into her bleak future. “I suppose there is no escape from this, is there?”

“No, darling, not if you promised Her Grace you would be there. I suspect that Solomon would have insisted you attend anyway once he heard of it. He’s calling later this afternoon to discuss his blasted list and how I need to keep you in line.” He rolled his eyes heavenward.

“Oh no! Don’t tell me! Amberstall was on the list of approved suitors, wasn’t he?”

“Fine. I won’t tell you, but he was.”

“This little trip is sounding more dreadful by the second. And I will be forced to hide my sorrows in cucumber sandwiches.”

“Cucumber sandwiches? I think I would choose to hide my sorrows in a box of chocolates or perhaps a decanter of brandy. But I suppose if tea sandwiches get you through the day, so be it.”

“I don’t even like…it was something that…oh, never mind!”

“You don’t have to get in a huff.”

“I am not in a huff or anything else of the sort.”

“Is this because your duke will be there?”

“He is not
my
duke!”

“We shall see.”

“We shall not see a thing! He is not!”

“Yes, I believe you. Really, I do,” he replied with a grin. “Let me pay for this, and we’ll go get ices.”

“That sounds lovely.” As he walked away, Lillian gazed out the window, watching people walk by with parcels in their arms. They were all going someplace happy, Lillian was sure. She was certainly the only one being sold off to the highest bidder by her brother while being blackmailed by a duke. And no amount of ices or dratted cucumber sandwiches would change those facts.

“Ah, Mother, I didn’t realize you were in here. I was on my way to go…so I will just…” Devon’s words died as he stared down at his formidable mother in the parlor. There was a gleam in her eye that announced she was plotting some scheme. What was it this time? She had already rid his house of a cook, a rug he was rather fond of in the drawing room, and all sense of order. His eyes narrowed on her as he wavered in the doorway, half wanting to escape, half wondering what havoc she was wreaking now.

“Devon, dear, you have arrived at the perfect time.” Her eyes were bright as she clasped her hands together and glanced across the room toward the fireplace.

“The perfect time for what?”

“I need that chair moved a bit to the left. It is in entirely the wrong location in this room. How have you managed without my assistance around your home?” She pointed to a small armchair he’d never given much attention. Come to think of it, had he ever sat in that chair? Perhaps once, although he could not remember the occasion. Its location did not offend him in any way. He shrugged.

“Oh, I get by. Is there not a footman around that can rearrange all of the furniture in
my
parlor to your liking?”

“They’re all busy. You will do.”

“What are all of the footmen busy doing?” He was almost afraid to ask.

“They are preparing for a few guests to arrive for tea, of course.”

“Of course they are.” A tea. Wasn’t that marvelous? He would have to endure his mother’s friends in his home for the afternoon. As long as he didn’t have to attend, he might survive the ordeal. He lifted the chair and moved it to where his mother had indicated.

“No, no, no. Move the chair back to the right a bit.”

“Is that to your liking?” he asked as he set the chair inches from where it had been before.

“That’s not quite right, either. Try it over in that corner.” She pointed to the far corner where two windows flooded the room with warm sunlight.

“Mother, how long are you planning on staying here?” He hefted the chair up in his arms and carried it across the room.

“As long as I’m needed, dear. I don’t like that chair there, either. Would you place it back over here?”

“Very well.” Would she not make up her mind? He had obligations other than to move already adequately arranged furniture around the parlor all day. “How is this?”

“A bit to the left and you’ll have it just right.”

“A bit to the left and it will be in the exact location as when we began.” The indentions in the rug were still evident as he replaced the blasted chair in its original spot before the fireplace.

“Yes, that’s nice, dear. Oh look, here are our guests.”

“Our guests?”

“Yes, I told you of the tea. And since you are here, you can stay to chat.”

“I am
not
staying to chat!”

“Oh, it’s only a little tea with your feeble old mother. Surely you wouldn’t abandon me in my time of need?”

“Mother, you wouldn’t by chance have had me rearrange furniture to trap me into an afternoon tea, would you?” Devon grimaced at the idea of being managed by his mother.

“I would never stoop to such deception, dear.” She gave his arm a pat, then left him standing by the chair to greet the arrivals to the room.

It really was too bad there was no alternate door to this room. He would have to add one—soon.

His mother gushed across the room, “Lady Grangish! It’s a pleasure to have you here. And this must be Lord Wellsly. So nice to make your acquaintance.”

“Your Grace,” Wellsly offered with an overly elaborate bow. As usual, the gentleman wore a coat the color of a scarlet macaw’s wings. Devon almost expected him to squawk and begin preening his feathers. An afternoon with Wellsly? If this was the best of the company they were expecting for tea, it was to be a long tea indeed.

The older woman with Wellsly was a stylish woman for her age. Too bad her son had taken his tastes for fashion to the degree of being quite a dandy. She nodded her head in greeting to his mother with a smile. “What a lovely home you have, Your Grace.”

“Thank you. Have you met my son, Thornwood?” She motioned to Devon.

“Yes, we’re acquainted, Mother.” Devon leaned against the mantel with one arm and gave a nod to the small bird-like man. “Wellsly.” Apparently, one word was all the man needed to engage Devon in conversation. Devon sighed. He would have to remember to keep his mouth shut in the future.

“Thornwood, it’s been some time since we’ve spoken. It’s good to see you.”

“Yes, I could hardly miss seeing you,” Devon offered truthfully, as he eyed the man’s coat.

“It’s good to be seen,” Wellsly returned with a smile, clearly not understanding the jab at his clothing.

“Really? I side more with the chameleon on the subject.”

“The what? Is that a foreign title?”

“Yes, it is. The chameleon is above a baron in rank within Sweden. Quite a high title.” This was going to be the longest tea in the history of civilization. Why must he stay to endure this torture?

“Ah, yes, I believe I have heard of the position.”

Devon looked around for any escape, yet saw none. Ten minutes later, he had plotted his dear mother’s demise for the third time in his head, as Wellsly rambled on about the importance of the aristocracy, but then he noticed more guests arriving.

He finally found an excuse to escape Wellsly when he heard his mother say, “Oh, look. Lord Fensworth has arrived with the Misses Yurdlock. This is delightful! Do come in.”

As introductions were made and tea was served, Devon quietly endured the standard teatime banter. It had been at least fifteen minutes since he last sneaked a glance at the clock on the mantel. Yet when he looked again, only two minutes had passed. He settled into the chair he had recently moved about the room. It wasn’t a bad chair.

He stretched and ran his hands over the arms, testing their strength before bouncing on the seat once with a satisfied frown. Why had he never sat in it before? He needed another chair in the library near the map table. He should move this one there. He nodded.

How long did teas usually last? He felt out of practice since he usually ate at his desk while poring over journals and ledgers. At the first opportunity, he would find an excuse and leave. He had work to do, and tea with mindless members of society did not fit into his carefully planned schedule.

He then noticed his mother looking his way for some reason as she said, “Yes, the Amberstall event always proves interesting.”

“Do you know who will be attending this year?” one of the ladies asked.

“Oh, all of the usual people, I’m sure, with the addition of a few new faces to town,” the younger lady replied. What had been her name?

“Lord Dashby’s girls will be in attendance, I’m sure, with their cousins. They are making such a splash this year.” His mother shot an innocent smile in his direction.

Her smile was a bit too innocent. What was she up to?

“I spoke with Miss Phillips only yesterday, and she said she will be attending as well. Such a lovely girl.” And then all was revealed. His mother must have seen him with Lily and now thought she would make a good match. He had been spending time with Lily lately, but not for the reasons his mother assumed.

He almost growled at the idea of attending the Amberstall house party. Yet he would not want Lily to have too much fun in his absence. She could meet someone there, become betrothed, get married, and be out of his reach of torment forever. That wouldn’t do.

“I will be there as well,” he interjected into the conversation.

His mother beamed. “Oh, that is wonderful news! I look forward to your company on the journey out of the city.”

She had no clue what chaos she’d just invited to Amber Hollow, but she would find out soon enough. He grinned. A plot was already unfolding in his mind.

“I believe I’ll ride there, Mother. Poseidon will need to be exercised. Unlike Amberstall’s animals, he enjoys a nice journey.”

“Your Grace, I have to disagree. Amberstall is known for his stables of fine horseflesh,” Fensworth argued.

“Yes, Thornwood. I’m sure Amberstall’s horses would be adequate for a journey as well,” Wellsly added.

“Oh, I’m sure his horses would survive a ride or two down a slow country lane. I am simply stating that Poseidon is an animal trained to the highest standards and, as such, will enjoy the trip.” Devon took a sip of tea and waited for the men to accept the bait he dangled so deliciously before their noses.

“Amberstall will want to prove the worth of his mounts to you, Thornwood. Of that I have no doubt. It has clearly been many years since you’ve visited his stables. You’ll be quite impressed,” Fensworth stated with his thin nose held high in the air.

“Fensworth, I’m counting on it.” Devon took another sip of tea, catching his mother’s eye over the rim of the cup. Her eyes were narrowed with suspicion, yet she said nothing.

He picked up a cake from the service on the table before them, holding it in the air as he asked, “Is anyone going to take this last cake? No?” He took a large bite. His cheeks were full of strawberry-glazed cake as he spoke, “Delicious! I’m looking forward to this little journey to the country already.”

The ladies exchanged offended glances in response to his poor manners, while the gentlemen smirked in disgust.

“Well, I must be off. Enjoy the rest of your tea. I found it a bit tepid but I’m sure you’ll survive.” Devon rose and bowed in farewell. The looks on the faces of their guests for tea ranged from shock to wide-eyed dismay. His mission complete, he picked up his chair, hefted it onto one shoulder, and left the room. His mother wanted him to spend more time with society and Lily, did she? He laughed as he strode down the hallway. One must be careful what one wished for. He had a new chair for his library and some planning to do.

***

Lillian scooped up the poorly folded dress and shook the wrinkles free from the skirt. Nathaniel’s home might be well kept, but his maids clearly had no experience in dealing with a lady’s clothing. It was true she was being forced to attend the Amberstall house party, but she did not have to arrive looking like she rolled there while wearing all of her clothing. How she wished she could stay in town and read books instead of attending this dratted event!

“This is all your fault, I’ll have you know.”

Nathaniel turned on the chair at her dressing table to gaze at her. “My fault? How is it my fault?”

Lillian laid the freshly folded muslin in the trunk at her feet. “If you were not leaving town to go on a secret journey to a hunting lodge tomorrow, then you could make some excuse for me to stay in town and I wouldn’t have to attend the Amberstall party.”

He rose and went to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room, shrugging his coat into place and dusting nonexistent lint from his arm. “Sorry, darling. This has been planned for months. I’ve spent weeks putting my wardrobe together and making preparations for what we will do while away.”

“I know,” Lillian replied in a deflated tone. She looked up, watching her brother preen in the mirror for a moment before asking, “So, what will
we
do while away?”

“
We
will enjoy all the freedoms a remote hunting lodge has to offer.”

“Which have nothing to do with hunting, I assume, since I have not seen you polishing any guns or sharpening any blades.”

He smiled into the mirror. “No. I admit I am a terrible shot and have no patience for chasing small woodland creatures about the countryside.”

“Who will you be
not
hunting
with at this hunting lodge?”

Nathaniel turned and gave her a sly look of warning. “A friend.”

“Does your friend have a name?”

“Yes, but I vowed to never say it.”

“I won’t tell anyone!”

“I know. Yet I gave my word that I would never reveal his identity, and if I told you, I would know I had betrayed his trust. I could never live with myself.”

“I understand. Will I ever meet him?” she asked, picking up a pair of slippers from the bed and placing them in the trunk.

“Perhaps one day.”

“That would be lovely.”

“Yes, it would. Well, now you have me all maudlin over leaving you, thank you very much,” Nathaniel said with a huff of exasperation.

“I want you to have an enjoyable trip, really I do. I only wish I didn’t have to be somewhere so miserable while you are somewhere so nice. But I am happy for you. Truly I am.”

“Darling, if I could change any of this for you, I would.”

Lillian nodded, looking back down at the chemise she had crushed in her hands instead of folding. There was nothing that could be said or done to change her circumstances. She decided to change the subject to a somewhat cheerier topic, the maid Nathaniel had instructed to accompany her to the party. “Thank you for allowing me to borrow Mary for my journey.”

“She’ll enjoy the trip—change of scenery, fresh air, and all that.” He took a step closer, lowering his voice before he continued, “Just don’t let her arrange your hair. I saw what she did to one of the downstairs maids once. It was frightening.”

“Thank you for the warning. I would hate to frighten the other guests at the party.”

“That you would. I’m sure she can button and lace whatever you ladies button and lace, though.” Nathaniel paused to examine his cuff before adding, “And she drinks heavily, so I’m sure she will be willing to procure you a few nightcaps to ease the pain of your journey.”

“Then she will be a fine maid for this trip, indeed.” Lillian laughed.

“I must go now and pack the last of my wardrobe. Have a nice trip, darling.”

“Yes, you too,” she called out as Nathaniel disappeared down the hallway. She did wonder about the identity of his mysterious friend. Was he involved with some powerful lord? Or was he about to leave the city with some criminal who must remain hidden from the authorities? Perhaps he was a spy? Lillian shrugged. Nathaniel could take care of himself. And she had plenty to be concerned with at the moment.

She crossed the room to her dressing table to retrieve some spare pins for her hair. Pulling open the top drawer, she found the container of pins hiding in the shadows in the back beside the pocket watch. Picking the watch up, she felt the cold gold in her hand. She opened the lid. It must have been some time since she had wound it, for it was frozen at six and a quarter hours.