Taming the Wild Duke

Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

L ilian lifted the hem of her gown as she stepped across the dew-wet grass of the garden, heading toward the stables. It was barely light, the sky only beginning to blush with the rose gold of dawn.

She had awakened that morning with a feeling of excitement. Something good has happened, she thought. And then, she remembered. She had agreed to marry the Duke of Thorne. Interesting that her first feeling would be that it was entirely “good.” As she woke up further, all of the more complex thoughts and emotions she had about it began to stir up as well.

Energy buzzed through her body, and she was out of bed in an instant. She needed to be active and—at least for a few hours—as alone as possible. For some reason, she was reminded of a question the Wild Duke had asked her at that first fateful tea…about why she didn’t seem able to find time for the things she enjoyed. Horse riding for instance. Almost at once, she knew what she was going to do.

As she approached the stables, the maid, Annie, stepped out. Her chestnut hair was already springing lose from beneath her cap, and her face flushed as she caught sight of Lilian. Lilian had a pretty good guess at which stable hand had saddled their horses. She smiled as Annie dropped a sheepish curtsey.

“Good morning, Madam,” the maid said quickly. “Lovely morning for a ride.”

“Are you sure you’re all right with accompanying me this morning, Annie?” Lilian asked, halting next to her. “I would have asked Jane, but she stays up so late at night, there’s no way she would want to be out here so early.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all, my lady,” Annie said quickly. “I’m a morning person myself.”

“So it would seem,” Lilian said in a gently teasing tone. Once more, the maid blushed. At the same moment, David emerged from the stable, leading two horses. He held them as the women mounted.

“You’re sure you don’t wish for me to accompany the both of you on your ride, Lady Lilian?” he inquired.

“I’m sure,” Lilian said. “Annie and I will be fine. Thank you.”

It felt good to be in the saddle, riding off as if she hadn’t a care in the world. The breeze tickled her face, and the trees were full of early morning birdsong as she and Annie rode toward the sunrise. It was shaping up to be a most beautiful day.

“Jane is going to be furious when she wakes up and finds I’m not home,” Lilian mused, lifting a hand to shade her eyes against the beautiful glare. “She’ll want to start planning the wedding immediately. She’ll want to talk about how glad she is that things worked out between the Duke and me.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand your desire for a bit of time to yourself,” Annie replied diplomatically.

“One can hope,” Lilian agreed. “I may wish to stop for a bit if we find a nice place,” she added, touching the deep pocket in her skirt where she had stashed the notebook and pen and tiny bottle of ink she had brought along. “Did you bring a book or something to entertain yourself?”

“If you don’t mind, Madam, I’ll probably just close my eyes and drift off for a bit,” Annie said.

“Definitely. I don’t mind at all,” Lilian said. She bit her tongue, turning her attention to the path ahead. They had chosen a route that would take them away from town through some of the surrounding farmland. She desperately hoped that the peacefulness of her surroundings would somehow seep into her soul. Her stomach fluttered with nerves every time her mind touched on the fact it could not seem to stay away from. She had agreed to marry the Wild Duke. The banns were to be read this Sunday.

“Annie,” she asked cautiously, “do you attend church?”

“Why, of course, my lady,” the maid replied, her eyes widening as she glanced over.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in our congregation though,” Lilian commented.

“No, Madam,” Annie agreed, blushing slightly. “That’s because I attend Mr. Benshaw’s church, the next parish over. It’s not that I’ve anything against this one,” she added quickly. “It’s just…there are more common folk over there, and I appreciate the chance to mingle with them.”

“Of course. That makes sense,” Lilian said. She smiled. “I’m actually good friends with the Benshaws. If I could attend there without raising a commotion, I would do so as well.” Her heart warmed at the mention of her friend. Then, she felt another shot of nerves at the reminder that she would have to tell Susan of her engagement.

“What do you mean, Madam?” Annie questioned. “Why would there be a commotion?”

“Oh, just because my family has attended the same parish church for several generations,” Lilian explained. “It’s not that large of an issue really. It would just cause gossip, I imagine.” She tilted her head, a slight chuckle breaking from her lips as she listened to herself. “If there was ever a time for me to change churches, though, I suppose this would be it. My, how the tongues will wag when the banns are read Sunday, and they learn I’m marrying the Duke of Thorne.”

Her face felt warm. She released the reins with one hand to touch the back of her hand to her cheek. It was probably bright pink just then. What stories would her peers concoct to explain the sudden match, she wondered? The Duke seemed confident that her reputation would hold firm—and even do his some good. She couldn’t help but wonder though. People were always quick to believe the worst.

Why am I going through with it then?

The question brought back some of the wonderings that had been crowding her mind ever since the afternoon before. She thought back to the conversation she and Jane had had that evening after Jane had finished her exuberant celebration.

“What made you decide to say yes?” Jane had questioned, plopping down beside her on the parlor sofa with the mien of a woman ready to absorb and enjoy every juicy detail.

“I told the Duke that it was because I have found him to be a man of his word, who will allow me the independence I desire while giving me a home and family,” Lilian divulged, her cheeks warming.

“Good. Now tell me the real reason.” Jane leaned closer, reaching to grab Lilian’s hand and squeeze it with excess excitement.

“That is the real reason!” Lilian protested, pulling away. “I don’t know what else you want from me, Jane. This is what you and Father were conniving for. Now, I’ve given in.”

Jane’s eyebrows rose slowly. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as a bemused smirk tugged at her lips. “You can thank me later,” she said smugly. “There’s no need to get irritated with me now, though, is there? What’s going on, Lilian.”

For a moment, Lilian resisted telling her the truth. But at that point, the turmoil within her had grown to a breaking point. She needed to tell someone, or it would keep her awake all night trying to figure it out.

“All right,” she conceded. “What I told the Duke was true, but there’s more than that.”

“I knew it!” Jane crowed. She leaned forward until her eager, youthful face was mere inches from Lilian’s. “You’ve developed feelings for him, haven’t you? I mean, who wouldn’t? He’s dashingly handsome, gently charming, funny, interesting…and I’m just repeating things you have told me yourself, Lilian, so don’t give me that disbelieving look.”

“I never said those things,” Lilian protested.

“You implied them,” Jane replied, her smile sparkling. “But go on. Why are you not completely happy when you are marrying a man you not only respect but are also beginning to care about.”

“I’m not…” Lilian cut herself off. It was useless arguing with Jane. Instead, she leaned back on the sofa and turned her feelings over in her mind until she could put them into words that would make sense. “I’m not in love with him,” she said first, firmly. “I’ve just come to like him—more the more we know each other and spend time together.” She hesitated.

“At first, I thought that might be a good thing for this marriage. But the Duke’s response to my agreement was…very cool.” She bit her lip as she remembered the moment of silence before he replied. The moment during which her heart had stopped beating and then restarted. “He said he does still want to marry me, and then he just started calmly making plans to have the banns read as soon as possible.”

Jane tilted her head, her mischievous smile gradually fading as she took in Lilian’s downcast face. “You’re not sure you want it to be just a business arrangement anymore,” she ventured to guess after a moment, “and he treated it as if that’s all it was.”

“He’s in a hurry to marry so that he can forward his business ventures,” Lilian agreed. “And I know…I know that’s what we agreed to right from the beginning. Which is why I’m upset with myself for being upset…Oh, I don’t know. It’s fine, Jane. Please don’t look so worried.” She mustered a smile for her younger sister’s sake. It was obviously troubling Jane quite a bit to see her usually so composed and sure of herself older sister at such a loss. “It’s all fine,” she said. “Truly.”

She could tell Jane didn’t quite believe her, but her younger sister had let it go, moving on with the suggestion that they have a double wedding after all: her and Lord Munro and Lilian and the Duke of Thorne. Lilian did not dissuade her.

“My lady?” Annie’s voice pulled Lilian back to the present. She blinked, noticing for the first time in several moments where they were.

“Why, we’re almost to the Benshaw’s parish now!” she exclaimed. “I’m sorry, I started thinking, and time just disappeared.”

“It’s all right,” Annie said quickly. “I just thought we may wish to water the horses. There’s a stream right over there.”

Turning her head, Lilian spotted the stream Annie was talking about. It was a merry little brook with a stony bank, overgrown with tall, autumn flowers. A small bridge crossed over to an open green patch of grass on the other side.

“Of course. That’s a good idea,” Lilian said then she grimaced humorously. “I’m getting a bit saddle sore as it is,” she added in a quieter voice. “Perhaps we could dismount and let them graze a little as well?”

The two women dismounted and led the horses to the stream. As Annie secured their reins to low branches so they could graze for a bit, Lilian wandered onto the bridge. Glancing around to make sure the countryside around them was empty of anyone who would see and gossip, she carefully sat down on the side of the bridge, arranging her riding skirt around her and letting her legs hang over the side.

The sound of a meadowlark singing drifted into her consciousness, followed by the distant bleating of sheep. She closed her eyes, letting the warmth of the sun and the touch of crispness in the air envelop her, massaging the tension from her shoulders. It felt like…poetry.

She slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out her notebook. Carefully, she opened it on her knees. The lines slipped from the tip of her pen and onto the page exactly as they had been scrolling through her mind.

What is this? My heart awakes to joy and pain

As it never has before,

Like a flower pressing upward through the soil

To embrace both sun and storm.

She stopped. The lines were not only weak—they were mawkish. Truly, what is this? she demanded internally. She snapped the notebook closed, taking a deep, shaky breath. Then, she got to her feet.

“Are the horses ready to go?” she called to Annie, who had made herself comfortable leaning against a tree. The girl jumped up, brushing her skirt clean.

“We’re ready if you are,” she said quickly. Then, her eyes widened. She was looking over Lilian’s shoulder. “Madam…” she began. The sound of hoofbeats interrupted her. Turning, Lilian felt a shock of something both pleasant and disturbing as she caught sight of the two men riding toward them. It was the Duke, on a prancing black horse, and another man in working class clothing.

Half of Lilian was glad to see the Duke riding toward her. The other half wanted to run and hide. But she had not run to hide from anything since she was a girl. Straightening her shoulders, she waited for the two to approach.

“Good morning.” The Duke’s voice was deep and soft, strumming Lilian’s emotions to another level of confusion. He quirked an eyebrow as he reined in his horse. Instead of stopping fully, the big stallion continued to prance in place. Lilian tilted her head up to look at him.

“Good morning. This is Belshazzar, isn’t it?”

“Yes…yes, this is he.” Perhaps it was just her imagination, but the Duke looked pleased that she had noticed. “Rand and I were just taking him and Eliazer here out for a good exercise.”

Annie came up with the horses, and Lilian took the reins of her mare, grateful to have something to occupy her hands, so they wouldn’t keep twisting against her skirt front. “It’s a lovely morning for it,” she said quickly. “Elf and Gerome here were just taking Annie and I out for some good exercise.”

The Duke chuckled, a smile finally cracking the firm lines of his face. Lilian’s stomach flipped at the way he studied her, his eyes dark with thoughts he did not share. Finally, turning away, she mounted her horse. Annie followed suite.

“I would offer to escort you home,” the Duke said, his voice tinged with reluctance, “but I’m afraid I have a meeting I must get back to.”

“Of course. Don’t bother yourself,” Lilian said. She kept her voice as cool and breezy as possible. Inwardly, however, all she wanted to do was burst into tears. Was this how it was going to be from now on? The Duke had accomplished his aim of getting her to agree to marry him. Now there was no reason for him to be charming.

She forcibly shoved the thought aside. She was reading too much into the situation—putting her own uncertainties on everyone else. She managed to give the Duke and his companion a slight smile, lifting her hand to wave.

“Well, I hope you enjoy the rest of your ride,” she said. Then, impulsively, she added, “Belshazzar really is a beautiful horse. I can tell he loves to run.”

The Duke’s expression softened further, his grin growing more genuine. “Yes, yes, he does. Thank you,” he replied. His eyes met Lilian’s, as brilliantly green as the countryside around them. Their gazes locked, and it nearly stole her breath away.

She and Annie rode all the way back to the Vonn manor in silence. Lilian didn’t know where Annie’s thoughts strayed, but her own were a puzzle. She continued to shuffle the pieces back and forth until they became words and lines and eventually, the second stanza of her poem.

What is this? My heart heaves and sighs: ocean waves

On a stone-littered shore.

My very breath and pulse and bone in rhythms

I can’t control anymore.

It was still bad, she told herself. But it gave her more sympathy for young poets like Byron. And perhaps young men like the one the Duke used to be, she remembered. The emotion she felt was confusing and somewhat unwelcome. She was genuinely afraid to put a name to it. The fact that it had her writing poetry was a sign she wasn’t ready to confront.