Chapter Eight
Lady Lillian Tapper
The duke hadn’t lied. My body was on high alert, my skin feverish.
Each page was a new revelation. The male protagonists were on the trail of a murderer in Scotland.
The story wasn’t much different from mine, with long looks and implied love growing between the male protagonists.
I flipped each page with eagerness, entrenched in the narrative.
Brilliant.
The author was brilliant and brought each character to life. I turned the page, and my pulse jumped, the words leaping off the page. In the course of their investigations, sometimes, their adventures left them isolated.
Night had fallen, and they were ... oh my, they were kissing.
My eyes couldn’t track quickly enough while my face flamed hotter. Kissing turned to touching, and soon the chief detective was falling to his knees. Flashes of Lord Kendrick and the model jumped into my head. Surely the characters wouldn’t follow their lead—
“—Lady X?” Colt entered the room, his footfalls silent on the thick carpet.
I jumped and slapped the pages shut, my cheeks on fire. It was unconscionable to be interrupted in such a critical part of the book. “Oh, Colt, you frightened me.”
“My apologizes.” He bowed slightly, inquisitive amber eyes skimming over my face. If he noticed my flushed state, he was too much of a gentleman to comment. “I was checking to see if you were close to finishing. You said you had to leave at four. It’s quarter to the hour.”
Blasted supper party. My mother was trying to pair me up with yet another of my father’s cronies after I assured her that Lord Kendrick wasn’t courting me.
Her disappointment had been profound. She hadn’t given up on finding me a spouse.
I had. I glanced down at the book and debated if I should defy her.
My mind had been entrenched in the story, and my body, well, needless to say, I wanted to read on.
“I have another fifty pages to finish, but I suppose there is no help for it.”
With a frustrated sigh, I stood and handed him the book. I wished with all my heart I could take it with me, but Lord Kendrick had been emphatic. After reading the salacious last few chapters, I understood why.
“Lord Kendrick would like you to stop by his studio for a few minutes before you leave.” He moved to the cabinet and locked the book in its place.
The brown suit he wore flattered his lean frame.
He was taller than me, a plus, and handsome in a reserved manner.
From my observations, he was the most normal member of the household.
Granted, I had seen limited staff members.
Never in my life would I have expected to see a manservant dressed as a pantomime.
After tucking my notes into the briefcase, I held it to my chest. My brother had given the leather briefcase, now worn, to me.
Guilt hit me. I should never have mentioned the incident in the nursery to Lord Kendrick; it was a family affair and nobody else’s business.
“He mentioned he was working on a vase for his cousin.”
“He fired it last night, but you will see it. Please follow me downstairs. The studio takes up most of the lower level.” He allowed me to precede him down the narrow staircase, and I caught a faint whiff of clean soap.
“How long have you been in the duke’s employ?
” I asked. Colt was very pleasing to look at, and my curiosity had been piqued by his seeming normalcy.
Conversely, the look he had cast Lord Kendrick in the library was anything but normal.
It had been heated, rather like the man in the park’s had been.
Viewing Lord Kendrick and his model in action opened my eyes to a new world.
It was possible that Colt was enamored of the duke. He was a very alluring man.
“Since I was out of university. My father was his father’s man of affairs. I took up the reins for Lord Kendrick before he inherited the title.” His breath turned choppy from descending the stairs while talking.
“You are of a similar age?” I knew from my mother that Lord Kendrick was thirty. Colt appeared to be around the same age.
“I’m older by a year and six months. Give or take a day. We will cut across the grand foyer. We repurposed the old drawing room for the studio.” He strode across the marble floors with quiet footsteps. Lord Kendrick must pay well for Colt’s clothing was topnotch; his leather shoes of fine quality.
My heels made a steady click click on the surface. The entrance was devoid of the typical bric-a-brac most grand houses showcased. A diminutive man in a plaid suit exited from a door hidden in the wall. He sported an enormous walrus mustache. He offered me a bow in greeting. “Lady Lillian.”
“Frank is the butler,” Colt said.
“However do you get your mustache to curl in such a manner? You appear to be smiling, even though you are not.” I was staring and unable to stop. In the duke’s household, I was bombarded with the bizarre, and I found I enjoyed it.
“Wax, my lady, and thank you for the generous compliment.” He smiled at me, and the mustache lifted higher.
“We are on our way to see Lord Kendrick.” Colt’s eyes twinkled with amusement, and he glanced down at his feet, but not before I saw the wry grin on his lips.
Frank opened a simple wooden door to what I assumed was Lord Kendrick’s inner sanctum. The large room was filled with floor-to-ceiling shelves. An earthy aroma of clay and wood smoke pervaded the space. Unglazed pots rested on clay-stained shelves just ready to come to life.
Lord Kendrick was bent over a pottery wheel.
I had seen a local man in my home village make household pottery like plates and cups, but the large factories drove them out of business.
The potters had been old and paunchy. The duke worked the vase, his fingers covered beige with clay wash.
With his sleeves rolled up and his hair pulled back, he looked like the artisans I had seen depicted in old paintings.
“Your Grace,” Colt said, approaching his employer with sure steps.
I lagged behind. The overwhelming content I had absorbed in my reading saturated my mind. In forty-eight hours, my entire life was turned upside down. It was surreal yet exhilaratingly real.
He looked over his shoulder and nodded in greeting. The clay pot on the wheel was short and squat. The surface was smooth and a deep rusty color. “Lady X, how goes the research?”
If anyone had told me I would be reading salacious literature in a duke’s home so I could write salacious literature, I would have died of laughter.
Yet here I was, doing the unthinkable. Worse yet, I wished to experience what I was reading.
The bigger question was would I have the nerve to go through with it. “I’m almost finished with the book.”
Eyebrow lifted, he cast me an inquisitive stare. “How do you like it so far?”
The flush that had died down returned in a flash.
I willed it back, wishing for once to maintain my dignity.
I glanced at Colt and fought the uncomfortable shyness from making an appearance.
It was a hard subject to discuss with the duke, but I had become comfortable in his company.
Colt was still a stranger, albeit a kind one.
“It is very good. The story, well, it is well thought out. I’ll have to finish it another time. I have to go.”
“I understand. I’ll be out tomorrow, but you are welcome to come to finish the book. Simply send a note around to Colt.” He cocked his head, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Before you leave, I have one question to ask.”
“And that is?” I instantly had a sense I should never have taken the bait. Too late. I maintained eye contact, although it was torture. He was more experienced in the ways of the world than I was, which gave him an advantage. It was an unfair benefit men had over women.
“Do you have the fever?”
“Lord Kendrick ...” Colt chastised, his brow furrowed at the inappropriate ribbing.
Mortification raged inside me at the crude question. Tears blurred my vision, adding to my anger. I turned on my heel and stormed across the floor.
“Lady Lillian,” Lord Kendrick called out.
I ignored his repeated requests to stop and kept moving.
The room was impossibly large. I had known the conversation would be awkward, but I hadn’t expected him to be so cruel as to humiliate me in front of Colt.
I made it down the hall and outside to the back garden when the duke caught up with me.
“Lady Lillian, please stop. I’m covered in clay, and if I touch you to stop you from running away, I’ll get you dirty.” He walked beside me, his strides matching my furious ones. His plea was spoken with exasperation and contriteness. “Please, I need to apologize. I was out of line.”
In deference to his apology, I halted near the gazebo, a few feet from where the pedestal the model had stood on was located. The rich red highlights in the duke’s hair showed in the sunlight. It was early spring, and a chill still rested in the air. “Yes, you were.”
“You are crying,” he said. Wiping his hand on his trousers, he lifted a long finger and removed the moisture from my face.
“I am, but not for the reasons you think. I cry when I’m upset.” My explanation was convoluted. I wouldn’t run into such embarrassing issues if I was normal.
“That’s the usual reason people cry, but I’ll concede the battle on this one. I have upset you enough. I’m sorry for my crudeness.” He smiled at me, the dimples in his cheeks hard to resist. The earthy scent I first associated with him was the clay he used for his craft.
“I cry when I’m mad. And when I’m sad. And sometimes when I’m happy.” I shook my head, my earlier temper deflated by his overwhelming presence. Shoulders slumping, I sighed.
He lifted my chin and looked deep into my eyes. “You are a sensitive soul.”
I would lift onto my toes and kiss him if I were bolder. I wasn’t bold. Birds chirped in the trees, and the humming of bees on a nearby bush gave a well-needed serenity in the garden. Tension held me enthralled, however.
Lord Kendrick rubbed his thumb along my bottom lip, his stare a heated blue. The pull between us strengthened, and I swayed toward him, unable to stop the momentum.
“Oh bloody hell,” he said before dipping his head.
For a second in time, I stared, my own lids lowering. My pulse raced, and my heart pounded so hard, I was afraid he might see it. The first touch of his mouth was a soft caress, gentle and warm. I placed my hand on his chest, heat seeping through the wool of his waistcoat.
He played his lips over mine once more, applying pressure.
I slid my hand up his chest, my heels rising of their own accord.
Head tilted, I parted my lips, channeling the description from the book I had read.
He glided his finger from under my chin along the entire length of my neck.
I leaned into his touch and moaned as he danced his mouth over mine, his palm at the nape of my neck.
Books could describe the act, but nothing prepared me for the beauty of my first kiss.
“It is four o’clock,” Colt said from somewhere behind us.
Lord Kendrick lifted his head, a dazed look in his eyes. My own emotions reflected his. It would seem that I wasn’t the first woman he’d kissed or man. Yet he was my first kiss, and I would cherish it forever. “You had best leave.”
“Yes, I have to go.” I put my hand to my mouth, my knees shaking. I hated leaving. “Or I could beg off dinner and make some excuse that I was sick, and then I could sneak back here.”
He shook his head, and genuine regret rested in his tense expression. “It is best if you didn’t. I stand by my earlier argument, no matter how painful it is. I can’t bed you, no matter how much I wish otherwise.”
I wanted to argue further. My body was on fire, and it was because of him.
“Good night then.” I exited the gate and entered the familiar garden of my family home.
None of my family ever ventured outside; thus, I wasn’t afraid of being caught.
Confusion continued to befuddle me. It was too soon to fall in love with him.
Wasn’t it? My infatuation for him was growing at an rapid rate and now I would have the memory of his kiss to confound me further.
Every opportunity I had to be in his company was a gift and every second out of it felt like an eternity.