Taming the Wild Duke

Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

L ilian was not in church the Sunday the banns were read. Simon sat sweating in his pew, his eyes flicking to Lord Vonn and Jane. Neither of them looked upset. So, it seemed Lilian was not sick. Was she avoiding him? Perhaps regretting what she had agreed to already? His stomach twisted at the thought.

He could feel the eyes of more than one congregant on him as the marriage announcement was ready. He thought he might have even heard a few gasps. Apparently, the news of their courtship hadn’t spread as far as he would have thought. Or—more likely—no one had really believed it until now.

Aaron elbowed him as the service finished and people headed for the doors and the cool, partly sunny day outside.

“What’s the matter, old chap?” his friend queried. “If you don’t get that sour look off your face, people are going to think Lilian is forcing you to marry her and not the other way around.”

Simon spun around, glaring at the other man. “I’m not forcing her to do anything!” he exclaimed, remembering to drop his voice to a hoarse whisper at the last moment so no one else heard. Aaron reeled back slightly, holding his hands up in a placatory gesture.

“Whoa now, I was making fun. Of course, you’re not! I know that.”

Turning forward again, Simon strode toward the door. Sensing his eagerness to exit, the crowd of churchgoers parted around him. However, he couldn’t help but hear snippets of the conversations he was barreling past.

“Did you have any idea?”

“So, he’s settling down at last.”

“Do you suppose he’s going to her now?”

This last was asked in a breathless feminine voice, half-muffled by the fluttering fans of her giggling companions. His face heating slightly, Simon slowed his step to a statelier tread as he and Aaron stepped out into the slightly hazy sunlight.

Aaron had not said another word since replying to Simon’s outburst, but he kept step with him as they headed for the carriages. Finally, Simon glanced over at him. Aaron raised a dark brow, the mischief already returned to his expression.

“Well,” he said, “ are you going to her now?”

“I don’t know where she is,” Simon muttered, his skin heating a bit more as he avoided his friend’s gaze. “I’m going to wait here for the Earl and Lady Jane and ask them.” He had paused by the Earl’s carriage. Aaron leaned up against it, turning to face him full-on.

“What’s the matter, Thorne,” he demanded. “You’ve been wound as tight as a stringed instrument since Lilian accepted your proposal. Are you regretting giving it to her?”

“No! I mean…” Simon hesitated, running a hand through his already unruly hair. “Things have just been strange between us,” he admitted. “Ever since she agreed.” He bit his lip, searching Aaron’s face for a clue as to what he thought about all this. “We met out riding the other day,” he continued, “and hardly exchanged two words. I deeply wished I could have accompanied her home, but I had to get back to the house for a meeting. She didn’t seem to care though.”

Aaron studied him thoughtfully. “Is that it, then?” he asked after a moment. “It bothers you that she doesn’t seem to care?”

“It shouldn’t,” Simon admitted. “This is meant to be a business arrangement after all. I don’t know why it does all of the sudden.” He began to pace along the side of the carriage. “I suppose it’s just that we’d been…well, I thought we’d been having quite a nice time up until the engagement,” he admitted.

“You were starting to see the relationship for how it could be rather than what it was.” Aaron nodded, a knowing expression on his face. “You’re falling for her, old man.”

“What? No! I mean…” Simon stopped in his tracks, unsure of why his protest had been so vehement. It made him feel vulnerable somehow to find that one woman’s actions could have such an effect on his emotions. “Well, I’m marrying her,” he finished stolidly. “If she’s still around.”

“She’s visiting a friend.”

He and Aaron turned in unison to see that Lord Vonn and Lady Jane Weston had come around the corner of the carriage, accompanied by their coachman. Both of them bowed to Earl, who returned the gesture somewhat tiredly before allowing the coachman to help him into the carriage. Jane lingered a moment longer.

“Susan Benshaw, wife of the curate,” Jane said, smiling. “She and Lilian have been friends forever. Lilian wanted to tell her about the betrothal in person,” she added, addressing Simon directly. “And she had invited Lilian to a social at the parish.”

“Ah, yes. I am familiar with the Benshaws and their parish socials,” Simon said. He could feel himself relaxing slightly already. If Lilian was anxious to tell her friends about her engagement, she couldn’t be regretting it…right?

“Did you hear?” Jane continued. “There’s to be a public ball on Friday evening.” Her gaze found Aaron’s, and her eyelashes brushed her cheeks as she smiled up at him. “Will the two of you be attending?”

Aaron swept a gallant bow. “It would be my honor to escort you to said ball, Lady Jane,” he said. She smiled and blushed slightly. Seeing the two of them interact sent a startling pang through Simon’s chest. He wished Lilian was there, so he could offer to escort her. Would she blush and smile? Or agree calmly and emotionlessly?

Casting his mind back over their interactions in recent days, he found himself hoping that she would at least look pleased. Perhaps hold his gaze for a moment, her eyes two magical pools of hazel mystery.

He blinked, pulling himself from the vision, his own skin heating as he recalled Aaron’s accusation that he was falling for his intended. The woman he had offered nothing more than a marriage of convenience.

“If you would be so kind as to inform your sister that I’d be honored to escort her as well, I would appreciate it,” he said to Jane.

“I will certainly tell her,” Jane said, her smile broadening. “And I’m sure she will be delighted by your offer.”

Why did such a simple statement make his heart feel lighter? Simon found himself smiling back at the bright-faced girl. As she dropped them both a quick, happy curtsey and turned to enter the carriage with her father, Aaron and Simon started toward their own horses.

“You realize, don’t you,” Aaron said, “that my betrothed is your sister-to-be? Once you and Lady Lilian are married, you will have not just one sister but three. Will you feel outnumbered by all of the women in your life?”

Simon chuckled. He recalled the gentle way Lilian had made sure her father’s needs were cared for before they attended the opera together. “Lord Vonn has been outnumbered for a good many years in his own home,” he reminded Aaron, “and he doesn’t seem to mind it in the least.”

“That is exactly how I feel,” Aaron agreed smugly. “The more sisters the better, I say. Why, once we’re both married, you and I will be related in a way, Thorne! I just now thought of that.”

“Brothers-in-law,” Simon agreed. His heart beat a bit faster at the casual way in which Aaron mentioned the marriage. “Shall we begin to hate one another do you think?”

“No chance of that I’m afraid.” They reached Aaron’s carriage, and he swung around with a wink. He reached out to slap Simon’s shoulder lightly. Even just the brief moment of speaking with Jane seemed to have catapulted him to new heights of good spirits. “Don’t worry too much, old chap,” he advised. “Lady Lilian has agreed to marry you. She won’t back out now. Your future is looking very bright.”

As Simon stood and watched his friend drive away, he could only think that Aaron didn’t know how he felt. He couldn’t possibly. Jane was so obviously in love with the Lord, and he with her.

Is that really what I want with Lilian? he asked himself. To be in love with her and she with me? A slight, aching hollow in his heart told him that no matter how much he denied it outright, half of that equation might already be true.

The large public ballroom was full of smoky golden light from the many lamps about the walls. A string ensemble was warming up heartily in the balcony. Those who had already arrived were still in tight knots about the floor, not yet relaxed enough to mingle freely.

Simon himself was so tense, he realized he’d forgotten to breath only when Aaron nudged him, startling him into a quick exhale and inhale.

“They’re here,” his friend said. He immediately began to weave his way toward the door. Simon turned. For a moment, he was frozen, unable to follow his friend’s footsteps as he caught sight of the two women in the entryway. They lingered, removing their wraps and obviously in search of their escorts.

Jane was very pretty in a harvest blue gown with white flowers in her hair. But Lilian was breathtaking. She wore a smoky lavender gown that accentuated her slender shapeliness and made her look as if she’d just appeared from the shadows in a sparkle of magic dust. Indeed, the gown took on a vaguely silver hue as she turned, handing her charcoal-colored fur wrap to the coachman. Her curly hair was heaped and bound on top of her head with two thin silver bands, and a delicate silver bracelet with a glinting charm dangled from her wrist.

Finally, Simon’s feet began to move of their own accord, rushing him toward his betrothed. She looked up as he approached, and she smiled. It was the same warm smile that had come so naturally to her during the days they were walking and talking and visiting horse races together. Simon’s tension eased, and he smiled back, halting in front of her.

“New dress?” he asked, offering her his arm.

“Um—reinvented dress,” Lilian said, laughing lightly. “It was actually one of my mother’s gowns. Jane helped me modify it a bit this week.”

“It’s beautiful,” Simon said. The words felt too simple, especially for the loads of emotions and thoughts that her simple explanation had sent tumbling through his brain.

But Lilian smiled up at him and just as simply said, “Thank you.”

They stepped into the main ballroom together. Simon was immediately aware of the slight hush that fell over the room. He looked up, startled, wondering what had happened. And then he realized. Nothing. The reaction was completely due to him and Lilian entering the room as a couple.

Beside him, Lilian said quietly, through a tightly maintained smile. “I do apologize for skipping out on you Sunday when the banns were read. This is what I wasn’t sure I was prepared for.”

“It is a bit awkward, isn’t it?” Simon asked. She laughed, a quick, golden chime, and a sound like a sigh went through the room, followed by a slowly growing tide of murmurs. “Perhaps we should start the dance and give them something to really critique—or admire. Whatever it is they’re doing,” he said from the side of his mouth.

“Plenty of both, I’m sure,” Lilian said, her voice light despite the underlying tension. “This is the ton after all.” Then she turned to face him, tilting her head to meet his eyes. “A dance would be perfect.”

Simon tore his gaze from hers long enough to catch the eye of the lead violinist in the ensemble. He found that the group was watching them just as keenly as everyone else, so it wasn’t hard. Immediately, the man nodded and turned to his fellow musicians. A moment later, they played an introductory measure and swept into an energetic waltz.

Simon dropped his gaze back to Lilian. Reaching out, he placed a hand on her waist. Then he let his other hand slide down her smooth, bare arm to her hand. Perhaps it was his imagination, but it seemed to him that some pink did spring into her cheeks at the contact. She lay her other hand lightly on his shoulder, and they swung into the dance.

Dancing with her was just as natural this time as it had been the first time. The other occupants of the ballroom seemed to fade entirely away as they moved in perfect harmony, stepping and swaying and twirling. Simon was aware that within moments they were no longer the only ones dancing, but he could not tear his eyes from the face of the woman in his arms.

For a while, they danced in silence. The complex movements of the dance were interaction enough. But as it settled into a simpler motion, Simon spoke.

“Did you enjoy your visit with your friend? And the social?”

“I did.” Lilian’s gaze searched his face, watching for his reaction. “Annie was there as well. And I enjoyed mingling with some of your tenants, actually.” The way she watched him made him feel as if she was testing him in some way. Perhaps probing for some annoyance at the way she had left him high and dry…or some judgement concerning those she had chosen to spend her time with instead.

“There are many good people in that parish,” he said. “I’m honored to work alongside them.”

Lilian’s face softened, her eyes going warm and inviting. Her lips curled upwards, a warm dark red that contrasted her pale skin and dusky dress. Simon was very conscious of the small distance between them. He suddenly wished he could sweep her off the dance floor into one of the many shadowy alcoves beyond it and kiss her.

The image came to him so suddenly that he nearly missed the final step of the dance. Lilian lifted her eyebrows slightly in questioning surprise as they stepped apart and executed the expected bow and curtsey.

“Would you like to take a break before the next dance?” she asked. “Perhaps get some refreshments and a drink?”

Before Simon could answer, someone approaching from the side drew both his and Lilian’s attention.

It was Priscilla Talbot. If she had been trying to choose a color that would draw every eye in the room, she could not have done better than the intense green gown she wore. It swished across the floor as she plowed toward them at a surprisingly quick pace for someone so small. She did not stop until she was directly in front of Simon.

“Hello, Priscilla,” Lilian said. Priscilla ignored her.

“Your Grace,” she said, her brown eyes boring into Simon’s. She smiled tightly—an expression that was almost a grimace. Simon’s brows knit with puzzlement.

“Yes?”

Finally, Priscilla’s eyes flicked toward Lilian. The corner of her mouth tucked upward with the briefest flash of contempt before she zeroed in on Simon once more.

“May I please have a word with you—in private?”

Simon’s frown deepened. It wasn’t as if he had interacted with Priscilla that often in the past, but he had never known her to be anything other than socially correct to the nth degree. She was behaving very oddly.

“I’m here with my betrothed, Miss Talbot,” he replied politely. “I would prefer to remain in her company.” Almost instinctively, he reached for Lilian’s hand, and she let him take it and thread it through the crook of his arm. Priscilla followed the motion with an expression of increasing horror. Her brown eyes widened, and her lips tightened into a tiny prune.

“So, it’s true,” she breathed. “I was so sure it was only a rumor.”

“The banns were read on Sunday,” Lilian said. “Weren’t you in church?”

“I know for a fact you weren’t,” Priscilla snapped. She yanked her gaze away from Simon long enough to give Lilian a scathing look. Following her glance, Simon was surprised to see Lilian simply smile and shake her head slightly. She did not appear to be taking Priscilla’s ire too seriously. Perhaps there was history between the two…

“Please, Your Grace. Now more than ever, I implore you to allow me a word in private,” Priscilla said sharply. Simon jerked his attention back to her.

“I’m sorry, Miss Talbot,” he said carefully, “but we were just about to go get some refreshments. Surely you agree it would be ungentlemanly to leave my companion unescorted.”

At this second refusal, Priscilla’s pale face suddenly flushed crimson. Her nostrils flared, and fire flashed in her eyes. “Ungentlemanly?” she hissed. Simon stiffened. He felt Lilian’s fingers tighten on his arm.

“Are you sure you’re one to speak of what is or is not gentlemanly, Wild Duke? You are a confirmed rake , and everyone knows it. All the girls were warned to stay clear of you, but you know why I didn’t? Because I sympathized with you. I spoke to you and danced with you and would have allowed you to court me when no one else would!”

Priscilla was leaning forward, her face livid, her voice growing more and more shrill as she continued to rave. “I risked everything to associate with you. My family’s good name. My own spotless reputation. And what do you do in return? Completely abandon me for the unwanted spinster daughter of a bankrupt and tottering earl!”

She practically spat the final words. Simon’s chest heaved. His jaw was clenched so hard, it felt as if it was made of iron. Before he could recover enough to reply, Lilian’s calm voice spoke from beside him. Her fingers were digging into his arm, but that was the only indication that she had been at all affected by Priscilla’s astounding attack.

“Priscilla,” she said gently. “Are you all right?” Then dropping her voice a shade lower, she added, “You’re making a scene, and it’s not like you.”

The mild reproach in her voice was almost indiscernible: the carefully practiced admonition of an older sister. That combined with her appearance of being completely unruffled—and perhaps Simon’s stony silence—seemed to be the last straw for Priscilla. Her face, which had been brilliant red until that moment, paled, and she glanced around.

Sure enough, everyone nearby had turned to observe her tantrum. Their eyes were wide, and Simon couldn’t be sure they weren’t judging him just as much as they were judging Priscilla. Especially due to the reputation she had so bluntly cast in his face.

For a moment, Priscilla simply gasped, her gaze skittering wildly across the room as she realized what she had just done. Then, drawing her violently green skirts about her, she cast one last poisonous glare at Simon and Lilian before storming across the dance floor and out of the room. There was a slight movement in the corner, and Simon saw her sisters detaching themselves sheepishly from the crowd to scurry after her.

Simon felt stunned. And he was beginning to feel angry. As he swept the crowd with his own fiery gaze, their stares melted away. The musicians struck up a new melody, and the ball returned almost to what it had been before Priscilla’s outburst. The only difference was the clear circle the other attendees were leaving around Simon and Lilian. And the way Lilian had begun to shake. Simon could feel it through her hand on his arm.

He turned to her, placing his other hand on top of her trembling one. She was looking straight ahead, her features carefully controlled, but he caught the shimmer of water in her eyes. And her lips, which had been smiling so beautifully only a few moments before, were caught in a tight, downward bow.

“Lilian,” he said quietly, “look at me.”

She blinked hard a time or two. Then, her golden eyes turned upward.

“Come on,” he said. Gently, he guided her out of the middle of the floor and down a hallway to a smaller conservatory. Amid the leafy green plants, small tables were arranged for the light meals and hot drinks the establishment served during daytime gatherings. Tonight, the room was dim without nearly as many lighted lamps as the main ballroom. Simon realized belatedly that he probably should have found a chaperone.

They were not the only ones in the room though. A few other couples were tucked here and there among the greenery in private conversation or…otherwise engaged.

“Hey.” Simon tugged Lilian to a bench and gently pushed on her shoulders, forcing her to sit down. He sank down beside her. “Are you all right?”

Lilian brushed at her eye and let out a shaky laugh.

“Are you all right?” she asked. “The things she said—right out in front of everyone…”

Simon shrugged. Anger was burning low in his stomach, but he found that its main cause was not the additional damage Priscilla had just done to his reputation. It was mainly due to the embarrassment she had brought to Lilian.

So this is what it’s like, he thought. To be a part of a couple. To care about another person more than yourself.

Is that truly how he felt about Lilian? In that moment, it certainly seemed so.

“My reputation was already in the pits,” he admitted ruefully. “I’m sorry you got dragged into that though.” Lilian finally looked up and met his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he said quietly.

For a moment, she said nothing, but there was a softness to the way she looked back at him that felt as if it was melting him from the inside out, turning him to hot wax—or lava.

“It’s not your fault,” she said finally. “I told you already. I believe everything you’ve told me about your past. The truth.” Her gaze faltered. “Priscilla doesn’t know any of that. Even if she did…she would have found a way to try and hurt us some other way. She’s a bully,” she finished bluntly. “Always has been.”

She sighed. Hesitantly, Simon reached for her hand, taking it in his own and running his thumb gently across the smooth skin on the back of it. Lilian’s gaze followed the motion. She did not pull away. Instead, she took another deep, shaky breath.

“Those things she said about me and my father…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Simon broke in.

Lilian looked up. “But you should know,” she said quietly. “We’re about to be married after all.” To his surprise, she suddenly slid her other hand across her lap and cradled his between both of hers, absently tracing his fingers, so much longer and thicker than her own.

“After my mother died,” she began slowly, “my father was in a bad place. He just…didn’t care about anything anymore. He made some poor financial decisions, trusted the wrong people… He did lose much of our family’s livelihood—both land and money. When he came to himself, he did his best to get it back, but well, it was never quite the same. People looked at us differently.”

She lifted her chin, meeting his eyes once again. Hers were lit with a quiet challenge. “My mother came from a common family,” she said quietly. “People already looked down on us girls a bit because of that. And they looked at my father with something like pity for letting himself be carried away by his heart. It only grew worse after he showed what they felt was further weakness after her death.

“My father is not weak,” she added with firm assurance. “He is stronger than anyone I’ve ever known in the way that really matters.” She tilted her head. “Perhaps I’ve never been that fond of love poems because I saw what real love looked like firsthand. And it was beautiful and raw and painful and…just so much deeper than so many people seem to think.”

As she fell silent, Simon tightened his hand around hers. Never had he experienced anyone opening up to him the way Lilian was in that moment. The vulnerability and courage that spilled over awakened his heart in a way he couldn’t describe.

“Perhaps you just haven’t found the right love poems yet,” he said when he could speak. His voice came out strangely low and husky. “Because that right there sounds like what the very best literature is made of.”

Lilian blinked and smiled. She seemed to hesitate over whether she was going to say something for a moment, her eyes flickering between his face and their entwined hands. Finally, her lips parted.

“Remember when you asked me a while back if I’d ever tried writing any poems of my own?” she asked, her voice barely audible. He leaned forward to catch her words.

“Yes.”

“Well, I think…”

“Lilian! Your Grace!” There was a flurry of blue chiffon and a gush of flowery fragrance, and then Lady Jane Weston was throwing her arms around Lilian, who half stood to meet her. His hands suddenly empty, Simon stood as well, feeling as if he’d just been yanked out of a warm sauna into cold air. Aaron hovered just behind Jane, his worried glance finding Simon’s.

“We just heard what happened with Priscilla,” Jane was saying, her voice muffled by being buried in Lilian’s shoulder. She popped back up abruptly, holding Lilian at arm’s length. “The nerve of that woman!” she exclaimed. “And after all the ways you’ve been kind and patient with her over the years.”

“We were out in the garden,” Aaron supplied, “so we didn’t see what happened exactly. But everyone’s talking about it now.” He crooked an eyebrow at Simon as if to say, This isn’t the way you mend your reputation, buddy. Simon grimaced back at him to say, I don’t know what you want me to do. It wasn’t my fault.

“I’m all right,” Lilian said in reply to Jane’s frantic queries. “Really, I am. Though, I do think I’d prefer to go home.” Her eyes found Simon’s over Jane’s head, making his heart jump a little. “I’m sorry to leave so early.”

“No, it’s perfectly understandable,” he said. “Perhaps you’ll allow me to drive the both of you home, though?”

Jane turned around, her gaze flicking back and forth from Simon to Lilian. Then, she glanced around the conservatory, seemingly just putting together the pieces. Her scowl slowly dissolved, a look of hopeful delight taking its place. Simon watched with interest as she caught Lilian’s eye, and a look passed between them. Lilian shook her head slightly.

“We would be very grateful,” she said, turning her attention back to Simon.

Aaron cleared his throat. “I’ll see to it that John gets your carriage back to the manor safely,” he said. “As well as seeing to my own of course.”

As Jane turned to him with her thanks and apologies for ending the night, explaining that she simply could not allow her sister to go home alone after what had just happened, Lilian’s eyes didn’t waver from Simon’s. She stepped closer, and he did as well, his chest tight.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For standing by me—and for listening.”

“Of course,” Simon said. It felt foolish and simple the moment it slipped from his lips, but Lilian’s nearness and all of the emotions the evening had brought up within him felt as if it was tying his tongue in knots.

So this is what it’s like, he thought again.