Taming the Wild Duke

Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

E ven with the autumnal gardens dying back about its doorstep, the little parsonage looked somehow even more cozy and welcoming than it had the last time Lilian had visited. Twining her horse’s reins about the fence surrounding the little yard, she started up the stone path to the door. She clutched a small swatch of her riding skirt in each hand, lifting it slightly to clear the ground.

Susan Benshaw must have caught sight of her approach through one of the latticed front windows because the door flew open before she could knock.

“Lilian! Oh, I’m so happy!”

At the sight of Susan’s genuine, smiling face, Lilian felt her shoulders relax. She hadn’t realized until this moment that she was pressing them up toward her ears with tension. She released her skirt, letting her chest fill with a deep, easy breath. Her nostrils filled with the fragrance of cinnamon and apples.

“Good morning, Susan,” she said. “I’m so sorry I didn’t send a message that I was coming…”

“Nonsense.” The clergyman’s wife finished wiping her hands on her apron and reached out, taking both of Lilian’s hands in her own. “How many times do I have to tell you that you are welcome to stop by any time?” Susan’s blithe laugh tugged an answering smile to Lilian’s face as she dragged her into the house and pushed the door shut behind her. “The Good Lord knows my husband’s parishioners do it all the time.”

Lilian tried to ignore the nerves tingling in her stomach as she gave her friend a hug. “You have to be constantly ready for uninvited callers? I would certainly pass away were I required to fill your shoes, Susan,” she said.

“Well, I kind of like it. I’ve always been more of a gregarious person than you, Lil. And it gives me a reason to always keep the parsonage spick and span.”

Once again, Susan laughed. Her brown eyes crinkled, showing faint new lines at their corners. They suited her, Lilian thought, even as she felt a pang at the reminder that Susan had somehow managed to live far more life in her twenty-eight years than Lilian had in three fewer. She’d married, moved rectories, borne a child…

“How is little Thom?” she asked. Susan was already pulling her through the dim front room and into a sun-filled kitchen toward the back of the house. The smell of apples and cinnamon was stronger here. The table was cluttered with bowls and rolling pins, and everything was dusted a healthy dose of flour.

“Growing like a weed,” Susan said. “Here, take a seat. Oh, not that one. This one here.” The first chair Lilian had pulled out was already occupied by a large sack of golden apples. “He’s still the most adorable baby I’ve ever seen,” she confided. “Here, take a look and tell me if I’m biased or one hundred percent correct.”

Stooping over a cushion that had been tucked into one corner of the kitchen, she scooped up a bundle of blankets and carried it over to Lilian. She cooed down at the swaddled infant as she lowered him into Lilian’s hesitantly extended arms.

Brown eyes, so much like Susan’s, gazed up at Lilian’s face. Below them sat a tiny button nosed and a little bow of a mouth. The baby’s warm weight settled against Lilian’s bosom, so small but sturdy. As her face softened with a smile, his own face brightened.

Inexplicably, Lilian felt tears spring into her eyes. She kept her head down so that Susan would not see them. “You are one hundred percent correct,” she said. “He is beautiful. Just like his mother.”

“Oh, goodness. You’ve become as terrible a flatterer as big Thom.” Susan fluttered. Looking up, Lilian saw that her friend’s face was flushed, despite her matter-of-fact tone. “We never used to compliment each other as girls,” Susan continued. Settling into the chair opposite Lilian, she picked up a paring knife and a half-peeled apple. The rest of the peeling curled off in one long piece.

“That’s because we were deathly afraid of becoming silly socialites who only cared about their appearances and the men they hoped to attract,” Lilian said. Her gaze had returned, as if drawn by a magnet, to the baby in her arms. Her lips tightened slightly, but she didn’t ask the question at the forefront of her mind.

As it turned out, she didn’t need to.

“If you’re wondering if you’ve turned into one of those silly socialites, you can stop right now, Lilian Weston,” Susan said with spirit. Lilian looked up to find her friend watching her with a knowing expression. Even with her attention on Lilian, her hands continued to move, paring yet another apple. She dropped the peeling into one bowl and the naked, white fruit into another.

“I have been so caught up in socializing within the ton that I haven’t visited you in weeks,” Lilian reminded her. She shook her head, relieved to find that the unexplained tears had retreated to the back of her eyes, and she could look at Susan without fear of showing her confusing emotions. “Sometimes the last few years feel like a fever dream I’ve only now woken from.”

Susan’s expression softened, and her hands slowed as she studied Lilian’s face. “You did it for your family,” she said. “No one can say that wasn’t a completely selfless and respectable thing for you to do, Lil.”

“I was just fulfilling my responsibility to my mother and sisters,” Lilian murmured. She forced a smile to her face. “I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for being here for me through it all,” she said. “No matter how many weeks go by between my visits, it always feels like we’re picking up just where we left off.”

Susan smiled back at her. Lilian noted that her friend still had the faintest smattering of freckles across her nose. Not nearly as many as she’d had in their childhood, though.

“You’re not as hard to be friends with as you think, dear,” Susan said softly. When Lilian opened her mouth to protest, she shook her head, holding up the hand that still clutched the paring knife. “No, hear me out. I know you think everyone changes for the worse when they grow up, but I’m here to tell you it just isn’t so. You’re still the same girl at heart, Lilian. And so am I. Of course, things feel natural when we get together. How many years have we known each other?”

“Since I was five and you were eight,” Lilian conceded. “Twenty years.”

“Mercy, that makes me feel old,” Susan sighed. Lilian laughed. She shifted the baby in her arms so that she could lift a finger and trace it along the velvet curve of his rosy cheek. His eyelashes fluttered at the contact. Then, his waving hand found hers, and his chubby finger closed around her slender one. Lilian caught her breath.

“I know,” Susan said. “There’s just something so sweet and innocent about a baby. Little Thom cries at all hours of the night and needs changed every few minutes, it seems, but I can’t get over him even yet. Are you still set on never having one of your own?”

The blunt question made Lilian’s breath catch again, and a blush heated her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Susan said immediately. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, it’s all right. I’m just…” Lilian looked up again as Susan rose and went to the oven. “I guess my emotions are a little close to the surface, what with my last sister about to be married. I feel so relieved and at the same time…I’m not sure exactly how to describe it.”

“Lost?” Susan offered. “Like you’ve reached your goal and don’t quite know what the next one is?” She had lifted two pies from the oven. As she set them on the table, the golden juice bubbling from elegant slits in the crust, the sweet, spicy scent washed over Lilian anew.

“I suppose,” Lilian acceded. She tilted her head. “You’re the first person I’ve told this to,” she admitted. “Father and Jane are worried enough about me as it is.”

“You’ve always been a busy girl,” Susan said. “Perhaps now that you feel you’ve fulfilled your duty to see your sisters settled, you can take some time for yourself. Enjoy all of the pastimes you’ve had to postpone for the sake of the ton. ”

“Well, that was the idea,” Lilian murmured. Then, before Susan could ask why her plans might have changed, she rushed on. She wasn’t sure she was ready to divulge the real news she’d come to discuss. Not quite yet. “Speaking of busy girls, though,” she said, “what’s with all this apple pie? Surely Mr. Benshaw won’t be able to eat it all on his own?”

“He might surprise you,” Susan chuckled fondly, “but no. I’m making it for a parish social we’re having this coming Sunday.” Having popped two fresh pies into the oven, she settled back into her chair across from Lilian and cocked her head. “You should come sometime,” she invited. “We have the socials after services, so you wouldn’t have to miss anything in your own parish.”

“I’ll think about it,” Lilian promised. Once again, she felt a flush rising in her cheeks as her mind leapt back to the other thing she had promised to think about. “How is your parish faring?” she asked. “Everyone happy and healthy after the summer?”

“We can’t complain,” Susan said cheerfully.

Lilian’s heart beat a bit more quickly as she approached the topic she both wished to avoid and wanted to have over with.

“Some of the people who attend there are tenants of the Duke of Thorne, are they not?”

“Quite a few, actually,” Susan agreed. “His estates are extensive, and they start up only a mile or two from here.” She gestured toward the window, and Lilian found herself glancing at it, as if she might see the man himself riding by at that very moment.

“And what do you think of them?” Lilian asked. “Or perhaps I should ask, what do they think of him?”

Susan put down her paring knife and apple. “Why, Lilian, don’t tell me you’re still matchmaking! Who are you trying to set up with the Wild Duke?” she asked, her eyes wide and her lips parted in a delighted smile.

“No one!” Lilian desperately hoped her blush was not as obvious as it felt. “I’m simply…well, because of Jane and Lord Munro—who is the Duke’s best friend, you know—we’ve just been in the same vicinity recently, and…he’s not what I expected.”

Susan studied her, as if she could read her like a book.

“You know me,” Lilian stammered slightly. “I don’t like to base my conclusions about people only on the ton’s gossip. I want to know the truth.”

“Hmm. So you come to the clergyman’s wife,” Susan supplied.

Lilian lifted a shoulder, dropping her eyes back to little Thom’s drowsy face. He had released her finger and tucked his thumb into his mouth. His eyelids drooped as he sucked it. “I come to my friend. Who I trust. Who knows people I may never come into contact with.”

“You will if you come to a social,” Susan reminded her. “But all right. Regardless of your reasons for inquiring, I’ll tell you what I know.” When Lilian glanced up, she was relieved to see that Susan had gone back to her apple peeling. Her face, however, was thoughtful.

“In truth, the ‘Wild Duke’ seems to be anything but that when it comes to managing his estate,” Susan commented. “Ever since he took over, the tenants really can’t say enough good things about him.”

Lilian’s heart beat irregularly in her chest. She still couldn’t quite believe she was considering the Duke’s unexpected proposal seriously enough to be seeking out character references. Perhaps it was just habit. Or perhaps she had been hoping that a negative report from Susan would give her the excuse she needed to decline his offer.

“Since he took over?” she queried.

“Upon his father’s death two years ago,” Susan clarified. Her gaze flickered up to Lilian’s, calm and canny. “There’s nothing like the loss of a parent to make a young person grow up and get serious about responsibility.”

“So, you think he is not quite the virtue-less rake the ton makes him out to be?” Lilian questioned. Susan shrugged.

“I know nothing of his personal life,” she admitted. “But a man who wields power well and treats those who depend on him fairly can’t be entirely devoid of virtue, can he?”

“No…no, he can’t,” Lilian murmured. She lowered her eyes, once again reviewing every interaction she’d had or observed with the Duke of Thorne since they had been thrust together at Lord Munro’s tea.

The first time—that day at the tea—he had at first seemed impatient and in a sour mood. But his demeanor had improved over the course of the afternoon. Their conversation had been engaging if at times unsettling. He had behaved toward her like a perfect gentleman.

And then…at the Bennington’s ball, it seemed he had actually sought her out. Once again, she could find no fault with his behavior in those circumstances. She had only seen him dance with Priscilla Talbot and her, and both times had been with perfect decorum.

“Lilian? Are you still here?” She looked up to find Susan watching her with raised eyebrows. “You seem to have drifted very far away for a few minutes there,” her friend said gently.

“I’m sorry, I was just thinking,” Lilian said. “Sorting a person’s character is a tricky thing, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?” Susan cocked her head.

“Well, you have only so many things to go on,” she explained. “Basically, what you see of a person and what you hear of a person. It’s confusing when they contradict.”

“There’s one you left off,” Susan noted. “What a person says himself. I would even dare to suggest this is the very best way to get to know who someone really is.” She leaned her elbows on the table, smiling across at Lilian. “If you’re truly seeing more of the Duke of Thorne these days and want to know who he really is, I would suggest you make the most of your time and talk to him. Is that too scandalous of a suggestion?” she asked with a gentle chuckle as Lilian’s cheeks warmed.

“I’ve heard worse,” Lilian murmured. She managed to smile back at her friend, despite the strange fluttering in her chest. “Thank you, Susan. I knew I could count on you to give me good advice.”

“Finally! You’ve been gone the entirety of the afternoon!” Jane exclaimed as Lilian trudged into the drawing room. She dropped the sewing she had been focusing on into her lap and gave Lilian a searching glance. “Don’t tell me you were riding that entire time.”

“No, no.” Lilian laughed ruefully. “I’m sore enough just from the little I did ride. I went down to visit Susan Benshaw.”

“Oh…was it a nice visit?”

“Very nice.”

As Lilian sank into the other end of the sofa, Jane turned toward her.

“What?” Lilian sighed. “You’ve been looking at me with those big puppy dog eyes ever since the Bennington’s ball.”

“Ever since the morning after the Bennington’s ball,” Jane corrected her. Lilian felt her spine stiffen as she realized. Jane leaned forward, her gaze growing even more intense. “I saw the Wild Duke leaving here that morning,” she said. “I thought it odd, and I was going to ask you about it, but then I forgot. And then I remembered, and it seemed even more odd that you didn’t say anything about it. Since then, I’ve been afraid to ask.”

She pursed her lips, her eyes growing larger still as she studied Lilian’s face. “I know I’m probably worried over nothing,” she said tightly, “but please, won’t you tell me why he was here? It wasn’t about the wedding, was it? He hasn’t brought up some sudden objection to Mun—Lord Munro’s and my marriage?” she rushed on, wringing her hands lightly in her lap. “Because if he has, I hope you told him it was too late. The banns have been read, and nothing he says can change anything, even if he is a duke?—”

“Jane!” Lilian interjected, sitting upright. “No, of course, he has no objections.” She reached for her sister’s hand, shaken by Jane’s apparent anxiety. “No one has objections, Jane. You and Lord Munro are a perfect match.”

“Oh. Well, I just thought—that is, I was worried…” Jane closed her eyes, sagging back against the sofa cushions. “I don’t know what I was worried about,” she finally said in a whisper. “Just sometimes it seems too good to be true, you know? And then I have this absurd wish that we could just be married tomorrow in case something happens before the wedding. I don’t know why.”

Lilian smoothed her fingers over the back of her sister’s smooth, pale hand, her brow wrinkled with concern. Jane had been prone to little anxieties as a younger woman, but this sounded far more serious.

“Jane,” she said again, her tone as soothing and confident as she could make it, “you are an earl’s daughter and an earl’s betrothed—and rightly so. You are beautiful and intelligent and sweet.” Her voice nearly caught as she said the words, and she paused to clear her throat, squeezing Jane’s hand gently. “You deserve absolutely ever good life can give you.”

Jane’s eyes opened. She smiled tremulously. “I’m sorry,” she began, but Lilian held up a finger.

“Don’t. If anyone needs to be sorry, it’s me. I should have told you why the Duke of Thorne called. Actually, I fully intend to. I just…needed a little time to sort it through myself.”

She felt her stomach churn slightly as Jane’s blue eyes widened. Her sister studied her with growing astonishment.

“Did he…” Jane paused, wetting her lip. Then she continued, just above a whisper, her voice growing taut with excitement. “He asked to court you, didn’t he?”

Lilian blinked. “How did you…”

“He did, didn’t he!?” Her fearful emotions from a moment before completely forgotten, Jane fairly crowed the words. She bounced in her seat beside Lilian, grabbing for her hands. “The Wild Duke asked to court you!”

“He asked me to marry him, actually.” Lilian still felt dumbstruck by the way her sister had so quickly come to a conclusion she had never seen coming herself.

Jane squealed, her eyes like two stars. “Oh, my goodness, Lil! And did you accept him?”

“I said I needed to think about it,” Lilian said.

“What? He’s a duke, Lil! From one of the wealthiest and most well-established families in the country. You couldn’t have come up with a better match yourself!”

Lilian frowned, pulling back. “Wealth and family have never been the most important criteria in the matches I’ve made, Jane,” she said. “You know that. Character is equally important, if not more so. And the Wild Duke’s character is highly questionable.”

“Oh, is that was Susan said?” Jane asked, her eyebrows tilting up knowingly. “That’s why you went to visit her today, isn’t it? You’re checking into the Duke’s character, just as you did with Lord Munro and Nancy’s Lord Godwin. What did Susan say, Lilian?” Jane demanded.

“She said—the Duke’s tenants speak very well of him.” Lilian didn’t know why she begrudged to admit it. Jane seemed not to notice. She gave Lilian’s hands a shake that sent tingles up to her elbows.

“Ow!” Lilian exclaimed, snatching them back.

“Wait, we can have a double wedding!” Jane exclaimed. “Can you imagine, Lilian? All of the sisters married by the end of autumn.” She bounced again, her exuberance flustering Lilian nearly as much as the sudden mental picture she had of standing across from the Duke of Thorne, looking into his green eyes as they said vows…

“Certainly not,” she snapped. Jane’s face fell slightly, and she finally stopped bouncing. “I’m not going to marry a man in one month’s time whom I barely know, Jane,” Lilian said, her voice more severe than she intended. “If I agree to anything, it will only be after a proper courtship.”

“But you will agree to a courtship?” Jane looked as if she was holding her breath. My, she is anxious to have me married off, Lilian thought for the second time in as many days. Once again, the thought hurt a little. Wasn’t she good enough for her family on her own?

“I don’t know yet,” she replied slowly. “Jane, he’s called the Wild Duke for a reason. Rumors don’t just spring out of nowhere.”

“Did he seem rakish and shallow when you were chatting with him in Lord Munro’s orchard?” Jane asked, quirking her head to one side. “Or when you dancing with him at the Bennington’s ball?”

“No. I mean, I don’t know. He seemed like a gentleman,” Lilian admitted. “But that’s my point, Jane. I’ve only really spoken with him two times. You can’t know a person after two conversations.”

“Which is why I think you should absolutely agree to let him court you,” Jane gushed. “So you can have many more conversations. You can get to know each other!”

“Why are you so anxious that I say yes to this?” Lilian asked finally, frowning at her younger sister. “I know you want me to find a match for myself, but how can you be so enthusiastic over a man like the Wild Duke?”

To her relief, Jane finally calmed down, her sweet face sobering. She twisted her fingers together in her lap and looked across at Lilian. “Maybe it’s because I haven’t heard as much gossip about him as you have, Lil,” she said. “I know you had to search stuff like that out when you were trying to determine who it would be appropriate for Nancy and me to associate with. But…he’s Lord Munro’s best friend. And the Lord speaks so highly of him. Now, you’re saying his tenants speak highly of him also.”

“You’re saying maybe the ton just got it wrong,” Lilian supplied. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t wondered the same thing herself. Jane bit her lip.

“I’m saying you’ll never know unless you give him a chance.” Watching her, Lilian sensed that there was more her younger sister wasn’t saying.

“All right, what else?” she asked finally. “Do you have other reasons for wanting me married off?”

Jane flushed, reaching again for her hands. “No, of course not. I just—well, I thought I sensed something between the two of you when we were together, first at the tea and then at the ball. A spark or something. You seemed affected by one another. I don’t know. Didn’t you feel anything?”

Now it was Lilian’s turn to flush. “This isn’t about feelings, Jane. The Duke said nothing about feelings. It would be a business arrangement, which is exactly what I would want it to be. He needs a wife to bolster his reputation, and my family wants me to have a husband.”

Jane’s eyes darkened, and she grimaced. “We only want that for you so you will be happy, Lil.”

“I know,” Lilian sighed. “My happiness is just complicated right now. I’m not sure what I want. And that’s why I’m not sure what I’m going to answer the Duke when he comes back one week from today.”