Chapter Four
Lord Kendrick, Duke of Alton
I was more nervous than I could even articulate. The Countess of Tapper had responded to my invitation soon after it was sent. I straightened the hem of my brown suit and squared my shoulders. It was time to meet Lady Lillian Tapper.
The butler opened the door and stepped aside, allowing me to come in. “Welcome, Your Grace.”
“Thank you.” I handed him my hat and gloves, taking in the formal foyer. Opulent sconces in a Turkish design graced the paneled walls. It was overblown for my tastes but fitting for the current trends.
I walked into a drawing-room, the heavy paneling continuing into the room. Several windows let in the sunlight. A maid stood by two women sitting in matching gold fabric chairs near the fireplace. “Lady Tapper, Lady Lillian, the Duke of Alton to see you.”
“Your Grace.” Lady Tapper set her sampler on the table next to her chair and stood. The skirts of her pale pink dress settled around her hips. Excitement lit her pale blue eyes. “What a pleasure for you to call. Allow me to introduce my daughter, Lady Lillian Tapper.”
The light from outside hid from view Lady Lillian’s face.
The lady stood, unfolding her slender frame.
She was wearing a white dress, her light brown hair a riot of curls in an upswept style.
Her face, with its large eyes, long nose, and small mouth, came into focus.
She resembled a baby gazelle I had seen while on safari in Africa.
I experienced an unexpected catch in my throat as I gazed upon her.
Her features were too bold to be classically beautiful, but they worked strikingly well.
The artist in me wanted to sculpt her. “Lady Lillian, a pleasure to meet you.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said with a strained smile, her eyes downcast until I was staring at the top of her head.
“Would you care for some tea, Your Grace?” Lady Tapper asked. She slipped her hand under her daughter’s arm and looped her own through it.
Lady Lillian snapped her head up, a flush on the apple of her cheeks. If possible, her eyes widened even more. She averted her gaze. The shyness she exhibited was painful to behold. Soon I would contribute to her unease, but there was no help for it.
“I was hoping Lady Lillian might care for a stroll in the park. I have recently taken up residence next door and haven’t had the opportunity to explore it yet.
” I couldn’t talk to her in front of her mother, and there was a common green across the street with walking paths.
It wasn’t unusual for a gentleman and a lady to take a stroll together, and by the way her mother beamed, she was accepting of the proposal.
“Oh, yes, Lillian is very fond of walking. I’ll just have her maid fetch her hat and jacket.” Lady Tapper waved to the attending maid, who rushed from the room to do her bidding. “It is very pleasant outside.”
“Indeed, a perfect day for an outside adventure.” I smiled at Lady Lillian, but her carriage remained stiff and unyielding. If the stilted conversation was any sign, the upcoming interview would be more dreadful than I expected.
“I pray your mother is in good health?” Lady Tapper asked, striding toward the drawing-room door. She gave Lady Lillian no choice but to follow along. She towered over her petite mother, but somehow, she seemed vulnerable.
I followed them out of the room, taking in the curve of her nipped-in waist. Given her slight frame, I surmised it was natural.
It appeared Lady Lillian did not favor tight corsets.
I was born into a society with strict rules governing women, but I also understood the freedom afforded by choice.
It was unfashionable and would shock many of my peers, but my father had tried to squash any independent thought I had.
The winded maid shot into the hallway and held out the garments to her mistress. Lady Lillian took the hat and placed it on her curls, exposing delicate wrists as the sleeve of her shirtwaist rode up her arms.
Expectation hung in the air between us. Her mother held the jacket while Lady Lillian slipped her arms into it.
The butler returned my hat to me, and I put it on. I turned my head to see the maid and butler and several other servants crowded in the surrounding grand foyer, all doing some chore. Very curious. As a duke, I was used to people staring at me.
“I promise to have her back soon,” I said, holding out my arm to Lady Lillian. She laid her hand on my proffered sleeve.
Lady Tapper’s lips trembled, and her eyes glimmered with a sheen of what looked suspiciously like tears. “Do not rush back on my account. Enjoy the beauty of the day.”
“With such beauty on my arm, I’m sure I will,” I said, watching Lady Lillian’s profile for her reaction to my compliment.
“Such a kind gentleman to notice.” Lady Tapper put her hand to her heart, a catch in her voice.
I suppressed a rush of shame. From what my mother said, Lady Lillian was a spinster. Lady Tapper thought I was here to court her daughter. If she knew the truth, she would have never invited me into her home.
“His Grace paid you a compliment, Lillian,” Lady Tapper said.
“Thank you,” Lady Lillian echoed in a breathy whisper.
The butler opened the door, inviting in some much-needed air.
I guided her down the stairs to the street.
It was a quiet morning, with few equipages on the road.
It had rained overnight, and shallow puddles rested in the dips in the cobblestone.
I maneuvered her around them, my mind swirling with how I would address the upcoming conversation.
My companion followed my lead but kept her eyes glued ahead, never looking at me. Given the circumstances, it might disgust her to be in my company. Very few people were accepting of my tastes in lovers. Ironic, since a lot of the men in my circle were queer.
Trees lined the park’s walkways. In the middle of the green, a maid and toddler played on a blanket. The cherubic baby laughed, the sound somewhat soothing to my jangled nerves. I glanced at Lady Lillian to see the corners of her mouth tilted upward, her profile to me.
I dropped my hold on her arm as we fell into step, the strain between us palpable. “The baby seems very happy,” I said.
She nodded, and her smile faltered. “Yes, Your Grace.”
The time was at hand, and I could either act the coward and run or stand my ground. I inhaled a deep breath and reached into my pocket to fetch her page. “I found this in my garden. I believe it belongs to you.”
One slim hand reached out and took the folded sheet. She opened it, her steps faltering. “Yes, it belongs to me.”
“You are an author?” I asked, unsure how to steer the conversation into unchartered waters. I wanted to be direct and ask her outright what she saw. It wasn’t precisely a genteel topic of discussion, though. She was skittish, and I couldn’t take the chance that she’d bolt.
“I wish to be, yes.” She picked up the pace again, this time lengthening her stride. Color dotted her cheeks, and a tick formed under the pale skin of her jaw.
“From the title, it appears you have written a gothic novel. I enjoy reading.” I had an extensive library of books, from the classics to some rather raunchy tomes I purchased at underground bookstores in London. One publisher in particular specialized in books that appealed to my queer side.
“I mean, I have written a book, but I’m not published. Therefore I’m not an author just yet.” The timbre of her words was soft and breathy. Maybe it was nerves, or it might have been her natural voice. “But I’ll be soon. I just have to write a few new scenes.”
“That is excellent news.” Perhaps I could help her in that arena if she promised to remain mute about what she saw.
“No, it isn’t.” She bit her bottom lip and turned grave eyes to mine. “Mr. Moran wishes for me to write material that I’m not familiar with.”
“Moran, as in T.J. Moran?” The cogs in my mind spun faster, and I had to choose my words with care.
“You have heard of him?” she asked with a hopeful gaze, her voice picking up strength in her excitement.
“Yes, I have several works from his publications. Forgive my boldness, but the things he publishes are not suitable for an innocent like you to read, let alone write. However did you become acquainted with him?” Lady Lillian was turning out to be a surprise.
Whether it was good or bad was left to be determined.
“I sent out twenty-nine inquiries, and he was the only positive response. I visited him yesterday after, well, after ... and he told me I had potential, but he wouldn’t publish me unless, well, unless I added new material.” If it were possible, her face turned a vivid shade of pink.
“After you what?” I asked, desperate to hear her say the quiet part out loud.
Silence followed my question. She linked her fingers in front of her, the rigidity back in her frame. Birds chirped from the branch above, and a squirrel darted from behind a tree. Life was going on all around us, yet my world hinged on her answer.
“After I dropped the paper from the balcony. I’m sorry.
” She brought her hand up and squeezed the bridge of her nose.
“I did not intend to snoop. I ... I saw you sculpting, then I saw him, and I ... oh my goodness, I ... I ...” Hysterical laughter shook her entire body, and she buried her face in her hands.
“I’m so sorry. I never meant to spy on you,” she got out between guffaws.
I stood next to her on the walk and waited for her to compose herself. The maid who accompanied us gave me a questioning look, but I merely shook my head to indicate her services were not needed.
After a few minutes, Lady Lillian squared her shoulders and tilted her head back.
The motion jutted her small breasts out, and they strained against the fabric of her jacket and shirtwaist. With a sigh, she righted herself.
“Pray forgive my outburst. The situation from start to finish has been absurd.”
It could mean prison or scandal for Gavin and me. “I know you are shocked, but I beg you to keep what you saw between us.”
She squared her shoulders with a perceptible shudder, the internal struggle visible in her tense frame. “I’ll agree to your request, but I require something in exchange.”
Anger began to simmer inside my chest, and a biting resentment surged through me as the implications of her statement took root in my mind.
I clenched my fingers in the soft leather of my gloves, willing my voice to remain calm.
“Do you intend to blackmail me into marriage or some other arrangement?”
“No, well, I mean yes, I suppose.” She fiddled with the thumb of her glove and stared down at her feet.
“I need a favor, well, I’m not sure favor is the right word.
I mean, it is asking a lot, um, but yes, for our purpose, let’s say favor.
I think you are the perfect person to help me in my endeavor. ”
My stomach sank, but I nodded. Ladies in the court had done more underhanded things to snag a titled husband. Just because she looked like an innocent didn’t mean she was one.