Must Love Dukes (17 page)

Lillian swallowed her misgivings about accepting the duchess’s invitation to tea as she knocked on the door. Being forced to speak with Devon after their argument had her wringing her hands all morning, yet the invitation could not be ignored.

Her only hope was that Devon would not be at home this afternoon. She twisted her pearls around one finger. What would she say if she did see him? Her disappointment in him had not lessened since she’d seen him two days before. Gambling was such a vile activity. And yet he had some indescribable hold on her that had nothing to do with blackmail or plots against gentlemen in society. She pushed Devon from her mind, focusing on the large oak door before her and what stood behind it. She needed to keep her wits about her if she was to chat with the dowager duchess all afternoon.

A moment later, an austere butler appeared at the door…the same austere butler she remembered from a year ago. “Good afternoon, m’lady.”

She froze, unable to speak. My, this day was certainly spiraling toward disastrous at a rapid rate. Blast it all! Why had this possibility not occurred to her? She had been so focused on Devon that she had not thought of his servants! Of course the butler that witnessed her fleeing the house would still work here. Perhaps he wouldn’t remember her. Perhaps all would be fine. Perhaps…She blinked, resolving herself to the task at hand.

Pulling herself up to her full height, she lifted her chin in an expression of superiority.

The butler’s eyes narrowed on Lillian’s face for a moment as he swung the door wide, then stepped back to allow her entrance. “Welcome back to the Thornwood residence.”

Oh blast, blast, blast! She stumbled into the foyer, attempting to think of a retort. “Welcome back? I don’t know what you mean.” Lillian’s heart raced and she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. “I’m Miss Phillips. I’m here for tea with the duchess.”

“Certainly. I must have confused you with someone else.” The knowing look in the butler’s eyes did not match his words.

“Yes, you must have. This is my first time here. Yes, the first time…ever.” Lillian forced her mouth to close, as she was looking guiltier by the second.

“My apologies, Miss Phillips. I won’t say another word on the subject as I am clearly mistaken. Right this way.”

“Thank you,” Lillian returned with a thin smile.

He nodded, leading her to a parlor just inside the door. “Her Grace will be with you in a moment.”

Lillian was overcome with appreciation for his silence and his retreat as he bowed and left the room. She sank into a chair and ran a shaking hand over the knot of hair at the back of her neck, forcing her lungs to work. Accepting this invitation had been a terrible idea. The butler knew her secrets. Devon could walk into the room at any moment. She clasped her shaking hands together as she stared out the window across the room.

“Lillian!” the duchess exclaimed as she glided into the parlor in a swirl of lavender skirts. “I’m so pleased you could join me for tea today.”

Lillian got to her feet, trying to hold her crumbling thoughts together. “Your Grace, thank you for having me.” She curtsied.

“I thought we would take our tea in the gallery today so that you might see some of the treasures this home holds.”

“That sounds delightful, Your Grace.” Although Lillian did not think it was advisable to be inside this particular home, she was excited to finally see the gallery and all the foreign artifacts it held.

“Excellent. It’s right this way, dear.” She led the way out the parlor door and up the stairs.

Lillian’s hand tightened on the handrail. She could feel the ghosts of memories slip around her as she ascended the stairs.

It was here that Devon had held her against the wall. She forced her eyes forward. It was here that Devon had ripped her corset from her body. She kept moving.

Her heart was pounding in her ears. She must divert her mind or she would never survive this tea.
Say
something, Lillian. Anything!
“Your home is lovely,” Lillian blurted out in a breathless squeak.

“Thank you, dear. It’s my son’s home now, you know. I do enjoy visiting, though.” As they reached the top of the stairs, Her Grace turned to look back at Lillian, alarm creasing her brow.

“Visiting family can be quite nice.” Lillian tried to smile.

“Dear, you are as white as the first snow of winter.” She guided Lillian by the elbow to the railing at the top of the stairs. “You need to sit. And of course the settee that has been in that alcove as long as I can remember has been removed.”

“Removed?” Lillian’s eyes fell on the empty patch of floor where the settee once sat. She blinked away the memories that took place there, focusing on the duchess’s voice to keep steady.

“It was a lovely piece, too. I shouldn’t say so, but it was one of Thornwood’s wild hairs, I’m afraid. A maid told me he had it hacked to bits in the garden and used it as firewood. It was a pleasant settee. I don’t know why he disliked it so. And now, when we are in need of it, we must press on to the gallery where we may sit.”

“Yes, that is unfortunate,” Lillian murmured as she moved down the hall. It had been there on her last visit—that much she knew. It had been there that she’d allowed him to… She blinked away the memory. Was Devon so angry that he didn’t want a single reminder of her in his home? Obviously he was. She shook her head, looking back over her shoulder at the empty alcove once more.

Double doors stood open, allowing the light from the gallery to warm the hallway. Stepping inside, Lillian did not know which direction to look first. The large room was filled with displays of exotic plants, ancient pottery, and maps. Exotic fabrics were draped over tables, and native garments hung on dressmaker’s forms. Every corner seemed to be filled with pieces of Devon’s travels. “It’s amazing,” she said with a smile.

“I thought you would appreciate it, dear. And your color seems to have returned a bit. Would you care to look around or take tea first?” The duchess moved to the center of the room where she walked in a slow circle, looking at everything at once.

“I do feel a bit more myself, thank you. If you don’t mind, I would like to look at everything now.” Lillian walked to a window on the far wall, bending down over a small purple flower with spoon-like petals. “His African daisy!” Lillian beamed as she ran a finger across the soft petals.

“Yes, it is… Has His Grace mentioned it to you before?”

“What? Oh, yes, he spoke of it once,” Lillian replied, absorbed in all the sights the room had to offer.

“I see.”

Lillian moved to investigate a bookshelf in the corner filled with travel journals and articles. She clasped her hands behind her back as she read the spines of a few books. Turning, she asked, “Do you have the journal article His Grace wrote about his Himalayan expedition?”

“Yes, I believe it’s on the second shelf, just there.” She pointed to a stack of journals by Lillian’s right shoulder. “I had no idea you knew so much about his travels already,” Her Grace replied in a pleased voice.

Lillian frowned in thought. “I find it fascinating—exotic lands, foreign cultures, new sights…” She sighed as she thumbed through articles in search of the one Devon wrote.

“You have a great deal in common with my son, Lillian.”

“Yes, I suppose I do.” She laid down one journal to pick up another. “Although Devon has gone so many places and I have only read of them.”

“Devon? I can see you are on better terms than I realized.”

Lillian snapped to attention, her head whipping around to look the duchess in the eye. “Oh, I mean His Grace. My apologies. I don’t know where my head was.”

“I do.” She smiled, her gray eyes creasing at the corners. “Come and sit, dear. Our tea will be here in a moment.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Lillian crossed the room and joined the duchess in the seating area set up near the fireplace. She sat opposite the other woman, arranging her skirts around her in the chair. How could she have been so thoughtless? Devon?
You
can’t call him that, you ninny!

“This is one of my son’s favorite places in the house. When he’s not working in the library, I can usually find him here. This room represents his life’s work.”

“And extraordinary work it certainly is,” Lillian added in agreement.

“I want you to know, Lillian, no matter what his reputation in society, this…” She waved the back of her hand toward the artifacts in the room. “This is the true Thornwood. Do you know he achieved all of this while searching for his father? Most people are unaware. They think him mad for boarding a ship bound for some distant land just as his father did. But they don’t know the truth. He did it for his family. For me.”

Lillian was unsure how to reply. The duchess clearly loved her son. But why was she telling Lillian of Devon’s true nature?

Just then a maid arrived carrying a silver tray laden with cakes as another brought in the tea service. Her Grace poured the tea and handed a cup to Lillian. Once they were alone again, Lillian took a fortifying sip of tea. She looked the woman in the eye and asked the one question that had been burning in her mind for the past two days. “Does His Grace often gamble?”

His mother was clearly thrown by the question. Her cup clattered against the saucer in her hand as she began to laugh. “Heavens no,” she managed to say between bursts of laughter. “What would make you ask such a thing?”

“I meant no offense. It’s only that he gambled at the Amberstall party.”

“Did he? Well, that is unlike him. He only uses the funds in his pocket to play on a hand of cards. His father, God rest his soul, taught him that. Although Thornwood hasn’t been himself lately.”

“Truly?” Lillian leaned forward in her chair, anxious to hear of Devon’s flaws.

“Yes, he’s spent the past year locked away in his library poring over his work.”

“Oh.” That wasn’t quite the fault Lillian was hoping to discover. Working in one’s library was rather…honorable. Perhaps the wager had only been an individual occurrence and not an ongoing proclivity for gambling. Lillian pulled her attention back to the teatime conversation.

“He’s had a fit of the doldrums for quite some time now. Always focused on his boats and the profits of shipping here, there, and everywhere…until this season, that is. Now he attends balls. He even danced—once.” She smiled at Lillian over the rim of her teacup. “Do you understand what I’m saying, Lillian?”

Did his mother believe Lillian’s relationship with Devon made the difference of happiness in his life? Surely not. “He danced with me, but that was only because…” Lillian broke off, taking a sip of her tea to stop the words from leaving her mouth.

“Lillian, I don’t need to know the whys of it all. It isn’t my place to pry. I would never involve myself in such a meddlesome fashion with the lives of those around me. No, no, no, dear. I am only here to enjoy a spot of tea with the lovely daughter of an old friend.”

Somehow Lillian doubted the duchess’s lack of involvement in the lives of those around her. She took a cake from the platter between them and enjoyed a bite.

“I see you have a sweet tooth, just as your mother did.”

“It seems to have diminished slightly within the span of a generation, but I do enjoy sweets.” Lillian chuckled, feeling more at ease already.

“I remember once when Thornwood was a boy he swiped some candies from the kitchen when Cook wasn’t looking. I would never have found out if he had not felt inclined to share them with his sister. I found her a sticky mess in the corner of the nursery.” She laughed in wild contagious bursts.

After a moment, she wiped her eyes as she picked up a cake. “He has always shared all he has with those around him. I look forward to the day when he has a duchess to share all of this with.” She gestured around her to the exotic plants and maps of foreign lands.

For a moment, Lillian pictured sailing off to distant places with Devon at her side. Then she set aside her teacup with a wistful smile. No matter what the duchess believed, that future was simply not to be.

***

“It’s none of your concern, Nathaniel,” Solomon’s quiet yet sharp voice sounded from Nathaniel’s library.

“Lillian
is
my concern!” Nathaniel snapped back in response.

Their voices echoed through the house. Lillian took another careful step down the staircase, peering around the corner where her brothers were arguing. Wasn’t this a lovely way to begin the day? She took another step, listening to get a grasp on the “discussion” before entering the chaos.

“You cannot believe you have a say in these matters when you were tossed from the family years ago.” Solomon picked up one of Nathaniel’s porcelain trinkets from a table, weighing it in his hand.

“Someone needs to speak on Lillian’s behalf. You certainly don’t have her best interests at heart.” Nathaniel paused, sneering at their brother.

Left alone, they would kill one another, and then she would have even more problems on her hands. Lillian sighed and descended the last three steps, entering the library. Nathaniel was poised at his desk, leaning down on clenched fists as if he were about to vault over its shiny wooden surface.

Solomon turned, regarding her with little interest. “Lillian, I’m pleased you have decided to join us.”

“I was unaware we had a meeting this morning,” she stated, raising her chin in defiance.

“I decided I needed to visit when I heard the unfortunate news yesterday of Lord Amberstall’s situation.” Solomon’s dark eyes narrowed on her. “I heard he left immediately in search of solitude. No one can find him.”

Lillian chuckled in spite of her better judgment. “Yes, I suppose when one’s horse gets romantic notions in the middle of a show of its skill this is what can happen.”

“You find Lord Amberstall’s fate amusing, do you?” Solomon laid Nathaniel’s breakable on the table at his side as he took a step toward Lillian.

“Lord Amberstall brought his situation upon himself. And I’m not sure why it warrants a family meeting before I have been able to wake properly.” Lillian clasped her hands in front of her in a grip that could break bones.