Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
F loating into Vonn Manor, Jane tossed aside her wrap and moved toward the warmth of the sitting room fire. “I know I should be tired from all that dancing,” she sighed, “but it was so lovely. I wish it could have gone on all night.”
Lilian raised her eyebrows, slowly removing her own wrap. Her thoughts traveled back to the beginning of the night when she had felt uncomfortable and exposed in her unfamiliar clothing. Now, she knew this gown would bear the memory of that night forever—particularly the dance with the Wild Duke. She could almost still feel the light weight of his hands on her.
“Ah, my old bones could not take another half hour,” their father murmured as John helped him off with his coat. “I am going straight to my bed, dear daughters, and you will not see me till morning, so this is goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Father!” Jane rushed back across the room to wrap her slender, young arms around the Earl’s neck. He smiled and patted her back as she planted a kiss on his cheek.
Lilian approached him next, at a quieter pace. “Goodnight, Father,” she murmured as his strong, old arms pulled her close. “Rest well tonight.”
“Oh, I shall, my girl,” he said. His eyes twinkled as he squinted at her. “You didn’t have a terrible time tonight, now, did you?”
She sighed, pushing aside the immediate thought of the Duke of Thorne. “It was not terrible, Father. But don’t think I’m just going to give in to your and Jane’s pressure to consider a courtship. I think I’ve earned the right to make this decision for myself, don’t you?”
“You have indeed, Lily,” he said gruffly, patting her shoulder. “You have indeed. But remember, we have only your happiness in mind. Mind you think of it yourself a time or two.”
“I will, Father,” Lilian promised. She watched as the coachman helped him off down the hallway before drifting back into the sitting room with her sister.
“I’ve rung for tea, Lil,” Jane said, looking up from where she had tossed herself on the sofa. “Please say you’ll stay and sip and gossip with me about all the delightful things we saw and did tonight.” She tossed her head back against the cushions in a dramatic swoon as she said it, and Lilian laughed.
“I like to see you so happy, Jane,” she said quietly. “I do wish you hadn’t troubled the servants so late, but I suppose it’s not to be helped now. I’ll join you for one cup of tea. Then I’m following Father’s example and taking these old bones to bed.”
“Don’t you dare call yourself old again,” Jane protested, opening her eyes and sitting up. “And don’t pretend this evening was a complete bore for you.” She leaned forward, her brown eyes gleaming with excitement. “I saw you dancing with the Wild Duke. The Wild Duke , Lil? I thought I must be seeing things, but I blinked, and there you still were twirling away in his arms!” Lilian flushed as Jane let out a girlish squeal. “You really look very well together—him so tall and rakish and you so dignified and sweet.”
Lilian shook her head, doing her best to overcome the flustered feeling that wanted to rise within her again. “I don’t see how those things go well together,” she said as calmly as she could. “He asked me to dance, and I simply decided to be polite for once.”
Jane reached up and began to pull pins from her hair, letting it tumble down around her shoulders. Lilian tried not to wince as she recalled how long it had taken her to arrange those curls a few hours past.
“Hmm,” Jane said, giving her another twinkling look. “First a civil conversation and then a polite dance? You may tame the Wild Duke yet, Lil. For which the entire ton will get down on their knees and thank you, no doubt. Especially those with daughters.”
“I’m not so sure he’s the rake everyone thinks he is,” Lilian replied thoughtfully. She sank back into the cushions of the armchair, staring into the flickering fireplace. She saw again the glint of lamplight across the Duke of Thorne’s buttons and the way his eyes had studied her with interest and even—admiration. “The only other woman I saw him dance with was Priscilla Talbot, and he didn’t seem to be making any particular effort to flirt with her.”
“In fact, it was the other way around, I know,” Jane burst in. “I saw them. My, wasn’t she making a fool of herself over him!”
“Jane!” Lilian frowned. “If anything, I feel Priscilla is to be pitied. Rake or not, the Duke’s lack of interest in her is likely to break her heart.”
“I shan’t feel sorry for Priscilla, Lil, sorry,” Jane commented blithely. She was running her fingers through her hair now, looking incredibly young and innocent as her chestnut locks framed her small face. “I know she never had the courage to be outright mean to you , but don’t you remember how you used to stop her from making Nancy and me feel badly about wearing last year’s styles or not being invited to whatever elite ball she’d been invited to?”
“I remember.” Lilian leaned her head back. The pins in her own hair were pinching, but she was determined to wait until she reached the privacy of her own room to let her hair down. She remembered her conversation with the Duke of Thorne about a woman’s armor. Even done-up hair could be protection against feeling or being thought of as vulnerable.
She felt the flush stain her cheeks again as she recalled how she had blurted out her feelings about marriage to him. Somehow, the Duke made her feel both safe and vulnerable at the same time—both delightfully relaxed and strangely tense.
“Lil?”
“Hmm?” Lilian shook herself out of her reverie to find Jane watching her with a thoughtful expression. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“Oh, nothing,” Jane sighed. “Go ahead to bed, sister. I won’t make you stay up with me.” She smiled a blissful smile. “I’ll just sit here and sip my tea and relive every dance with Lord Munro in my head, and then I’ll turn in as well, I promise.”
“Very well, Janey.” Lilian stood up, suddenly anxious to be on her own and quiet her spinning thoughts. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
As she walked up the steps to her room, she found herself wondering if she would be able to fall asleep as easily as she normally did. It had been a most unusual evening. She had a feeling she’d be reliving it herself for a good long time before she drifted off.
Despite her unaccustomed restlessness, Lilian was the first of the family to rise the morning after the ball. Dressing warmly and comfortably in a dress of gray-blue wool, she partook lightly of the breakfast Giselle, the cook, had spread on the sideboard in the dining room. Then, she wandered into the sitting room.
As gray midmorning light spilled through the windows, she sat down at her harp and let her fingers play lightly over the strings, trying to pick out one of the tunes from the night before—the one she and the Duke had danced to, as it happened. There was something about the light, sweet melody that she couldn’t seem to get out of her head.
“Lady Lilian?”
She looked up to see John, who filled dual roles of coachman and butler most days, in the doorway, a peculiar expression on his face. “Yes?”
“You have a caller,” the man said diffidently. “A gentleman.”
“Oh.” Lilian frowned slightly, dropping her arms to her sides. “You’re sure he’s not here to see Father?”
“Yes, my lady. He specifically requested to see you.”
Rising, Lilian shook out her skirt, her mind spinning. What possible reason could a gentleman have for arriving unannounced to speak with her? “Very well, then,” she conceded aloud. “Will you be so kind as to send in one of the maids to act as chaperone?”
“Of course, Madam.” The boney man dropped a stiff bow and exited. Lilian stood by the harp, wishing she’d asked John who exactly was here before he’d left again. It was possibly something to do with Jane’s wedding, she thought. Perhaps Lord Munro wished to speak to her about the ring or the flowers—or it was the clergyman with questions. He would have asked to speak to Jane, though, wouldn’t he?
Annie Smith slipped into the room and settled in a corner chair moments before John reappeared at the sitting room door and ushered a tall, damp, and windblown man in before him. Green eyes caught Lilian’s and held them. Surprise stole her breath.
What are you doing here? she almost blurted, but she bit her tongue just in time. She hadn’t spent twenty-five years perfecting her skills as a hostess to lose them all with one unexpected caller.
“Your Grace,” she said with a slight curtsey. “What a surprise. It appears the weather is still dreadful out there.” And you’ve forgotten your hat again. “Won’t you have a seat?”
“Only if you will,” the Wild Duke said. His tone was brusque, and there was a tension to his bearing that did nothing to ease Lilian’s confusion. His gaze ran over her in a way that made her suddenly, intensely aware of how casually she was dressed and the fact that she had done next to nothing with her hair. And yet, there was no judgement in his expression. Rather there was a sort of probing interest that caught her entirely off-guard.
“Of course,” she replied. She motioned to the sofa and took the armchair herself, folding her hands uncertainly in her lap. “John, would you be so kind as to ask Giselle for some tea and biscuits?”
“I don’t want to trouble you,” the Duke said. “I know this call is unexpected.”
Lilian bit her lip, nodding slightly. Her mind was racing, as was her pulse. “Are you sure you don’t wish to speak to my father?” she couldn’t help but ask.
“I may wish to speak to him after we speak,” he said enigmatically. His tone had grown even more cautious. His brows settled low over those green eyes as they searched hers, causing her heart to speed up even more. Lilian didn’t think she could handle the uneasiness much longer.
“What do you wish to speak to me about?” she asked. The Duke blinked, as if taken aback by the blunt question, but then a smile tugged at his lips. He dropped his gaze to his hands which were clasped tightly enough to turn the knuckles white. He loosened them.
“Forgive me for how sudden all of this is. I’d like to offer you a proposal,” he said.
“As in—a business proposal?” Lilian asked, her own brows lowering. What business of the Wild Duke’s could possibly concern her?
“No, the other kind.” The Duke was still looking at his hands.
“A marriage proposal?” Lilian laughed nervously. “I’m sorry; I’m a bit dull this morning from the last night. I can’t think of any other types of proposals.”
She waited for the Duke to chuckle as well and tell her what she was missing. But instead, he just looked up at her, his green eyes blazing, his face serious.
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“You’re…” Lilian trailed off, shock coursing through her like the Thames in flood season. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” she managed to murmur after a moment.
“I’m asking you to consider marrying me, Lady Lilian,” the Duke said bluntly. He took a breath and hurried on as the flood drained away, leaving Lilian feeling limp with astonishment. “Ever since we talked—well, I feel it may be the answer to issues both of us are facing at this time. You wish to marry someone while maintaining your independence, and I wish to lay to rest certain rumors that have circulated about me. I need to become more credible in the opinions of my peers. A wife would do that for me. At least, it would if you were that wife.”
He lifted a hand, running it through his damp hair in a gesture that was already becoming familiar to her. He had started out strong, but Lilian could sense him fumbling, grabbing for a carefully prepared speech that had deserted him in his hour of need. She was in no position to relieve him.
“I wanted to speak to you first before approaching your father or—really anyone else,” he explained. “No one else has heard this idea but you…and…” He glanced toward the wide-eyed maid in the corner.
“Annie,” Lilian supplied hollowly. Her voice sounded far away. It was almost swallowed by the rushing sound that filled her ears.
“Annie,” he echoed, nodding to the girl. She jumped up and dropped a curtsey before sinking back into her seat, wide-eyed.
The Duke fell silent, waiting for her answer. Lilian was silent as well.
She should be laughing, she thought vaguely. She should be giving him a resounding no and begging him to never bring it up again. But she couldn’t seem to say a word. Nothing had prepared her for the Wild Duke, of all people, to approach her with a marriage proposal after speaking to her on all of two occasions.
“I’m sorry.” The Duke’s voice was deep and quiet. “I see this has come as a shock to you. Please, don’t feel you have to answer anything immediately. Just—think about it, would you? Would you do me that honor?”
Lilian opened her mouth, hardly even aware of what she intended to say. The room felt flaming hot, even though the fire was actually dwindling. Her fingers trembled in her lap. Was this really happening? The Duke’s piercing gaze was an anchor, forcing her to acknowledge that it was indeed.
“I will think about it.”
The statement was simple, but Lilian was almost as shocked to hear it coming from her own mouth as she had been to hear the Duke’s proposal a moment before. She blinked, watching as the tension on his face melted into pleased surprise. His chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath.
“Thank you,” he said. He stood. “I’ll come back tomorrow for your answer.”
“No,” Lilian said quickly. She stood as well. Her head was slowly beginning to clear though her heart was still beating overfast. “You may come back next week for my answer. Please, I—need time to think about this.”
The Duke blinked and nodded. “Of course, yes. I’ll come back next week.” For a moment, he just stood looking down at her. Then, he dropped a slight bow. Lilian nodded, still feeling dazed.
“I’ll see myself out,” he said quietly.
When he had gone, Lilian sank into her chair. She looked over at Annie.
“Am I correct in thinking that the Duke of Thorne just…proposed to me?” she asked, her voice sounding uncharacteristically fragile.
“It certainly sounded that way, Madam,” Annie answered.
“And I told him I’d think about it?”
“You did, Madam.”
Lilian closed her eyes. The Duke of Thorne had just asked her to marry him. After two conversations and a dance. He had presented it as a marriage of convenience, but… of course, she wouldn’t do it. Would she? She couldn’t marry the Wild Duke, a man she barely knew. Could she?