Chapter 18
“You wish Lilian to come and live here at Greyhaven Park?” Nathaniel queried, rather surprised at this request. “Really?”
It was a little before noon, and he had to admit that when his new wife insisted on speaking to him alone as soon as he came downstairs, he had hoped for a rather different conversation.
In a green summer dress with golden-brown ringlets pinned at the nape of her neck, Cecily looked neat and pretty this morning. Only those dark, flashing eyes revealed the fiery passion he longed to unleash.
How easily he could release her hair from its pins and slide her dress down her shoulders as he fed her kisses and words of desire he knew would arouse her.
Looking around and seeing no one about, it even crossed his mind to sweep her off her feet and carry her upstairs right then, if she appeared receptive to such a gesture.
In this mood, her request to move Lilian to the main house caught him completely off guard, and thoughts of bedroom games were immediately and entirely pushed from his mind.
“Of course, I do,” she said. “I am Lilian’s stepmother now and should oversee her upbringing. I cannot do that while she is living somewhere else, can I?” Her voice was calm and firm, her deep brown eyes determined.
After considering her request with a raised eyebrow, Nathaniel nodded and shrugged. He could not quite imagine what it would be like to live with Lilian every day, who seemed to shriek, shout, and hit out more than other children. How long until he was driven back to London?
“You must do as you think best,” he told Cecily. “As you say, you are her stepmother now, and I will trust your judgment.”
“Thank you. I shall go and arrange the move with Mrs. Barnes. I dare say we can have Lilian here by tomorrow morning. Now, how will you tell her?”
“I thought you said that you would arrange matters with Mrs. Barnes,” Nathaniel reminded her with a frown. “Do you not wish to tell her yourself?”
“I was referring to Lilian, not Mrs. Barnes,” Cecily clarified, with an expression of consternation. “It is a big change, and she ought to hear it from her father. It might be a lot for a child to take in, and she may become overexcited…”
Nathaniel considered that too, blowing out a long breath as he shook his head.
“Lilian is always so… upset around me. You have seen how she is. If we don’t want her overexcited, then Mrs. Barnes or Miss Osborne ought to speak to her.”
“But you are her father,” Cecily said slowly, as though he was drunk or slow of understanding. “She becomes overexcited around you because she does not feel she has enough of your company or attention.”
“I do not think that is true. Sometimes I don’t think she even likes me,” Nathaniel mused. “Why would she wish to be around me at all?”
“Because you are her father,” Cecily replied. “She loves you, even when she’s angry. Do you really not see it?”
He did not, and only regarded her with silent bemusement.
“Very well then, I will talk to Lilian with Mrs. Barnes, since she can handle her better than I do. Can you at least be at the door to greet her when she arrives? It’s important that she feels comfortable and cared for.”
“Yes,” he agreed, wondering what kind of scene they might all expect when Lilian arrived. “I will be there.”
As Cecily made for the door, Nathaniel’s eyes followed her with a hint of regret over his thwarted desire.
What a conversation for their first day of marriage! Had she not thought about him at all last night? They were only just married, for God’s sake, and he could have sworn that the blood ran as hot in her veins as his.
“Nathaniel?”
At the door, Cecily had stopped and turned back to him, her face now softer as she spoke his name.
“I wanted to thank you for yesterday, for everything really,” she said. “I slept very well, thanks to you.”
“You… are my wife,” he returned simply, unable to think of any other response. “I trust you will not find me a hard man to live with or to please.”
At that, Cecily flushed most becomingly, her eyes meeting his for a moment in instinctive appeal before she turned again and hurried away.
* * *
“But where is His Grace?” Mary asked as she stood beside Cecily on the top step of Greyhaven Park at nine o’clock the following morning. “You did tell him that Lady Lilian was arriving at nine?”
“You heard me telling him at dinner last night,” Cecily answered with frustration. “There was no room for misunderstanding. We all talked about being here at the front door together to welcome her at nine—the Duke and me, Mrs. Barnes, you, and Patrick.”
“Him!” Mary huffed moodily, rolling her eyes at the handsome young man standing a few feet away who nonchalantly pretended not to see her. “I don’t see why he is needed.”
“Patrick is very good with Lilian, and he is her uncle,” Cecily replied firmly. “But it’s Lilian’s father I’m presently concerned with. I know he is a late riser, so I didn’t expect to see him at breakfast, but this is unacceptable! Mrs. Barnes, has the Duke perhaps gone out?”
“No, Your Grace,” the housekeeper answered with a sigh. “His Grace has not left the house. Mr. Greene, our senior footman, tells me that he went upstairs at two o’clock this morning and has not been down since.”
At the far end of the drive, a small but elaborately painted open-top carriage could now be seen approaching, drawn by four small ponies and carrying Miss Osborne and Lilian. A small white dog sat on the child’s lap.
A horrible thought came to Cecily that her husband’s absence might be some peculiar game of his.
What if he had been expecting her to go to his room last night, since she had not done so the night before?
She knew now that the door between their rooms was unlocked.
Might his absence be some kind of punishment for failing to fulfill her wifely duty?
But, aside from the fact that this did not ring true with everything she had seen of his character, he had reportedly not gone to bed until after two o’clock.
While she had been pacing in her nightgown and wondering whether to push open that door, he had probably been downstairs playing billiards or reading a book.
If he had wanted her, he could have come to her. She could only presume that he didn’t want her, now a most disappointing thought.
She turned to the footman who was hovering nearby in case of need.
“Mr. Greene, has the valet gone up to the Duke this morning? If not, can he be sent up now?”
The footman gave an embarrassed cough and looked at Mrs. Barnes, who seemed to have complete oversight of the household in the absence of a butler.
“Mr. Rogers does not go upstairs until His Grace rings,” the footman told Cecily.
“I see,” she responded, understanding that none of the staff felt authorized to disturb the Duke so early in the morning, not even for the arrival of his daughter. “Well, we must make the best of things for now. Lilian is here.”
As the elaborately painted little carriage pulled up, the dark-haired girl scrambled out and ran to the steps, despite her governess’s futile protests.
“Welcome to Greyhaven Park, Lilian,” Cecily greeted her, coming partway down the steps to receive the child.
Lilian ran right past her, up the stairs, and into the house, barging past Mary on the way and then protesting loudly when Patrick scooped her up.
“That is not how a lady behaves, Lilian,” he told her in a gentle but surprisingly firm tone. “You must greet your new stepmother and aunt properly. If I set you down, will you do that?”
Lilian wriggled and shoved at him, her dark blue eyes blazing furiously. “I don’t want a stepmother or an aunt. Where’s Papa? You said he would be here! You told me that!”
The last sentence was spoken accusingly to Mrs. Barnes and Cecily, who had indeed assured her of this when they had met at the dower house the day before.
Cecily and the housekeeper looked at one another. Briefly, Cecily considered sending Lilian upstairs to rage at the Duke. That would certainly serve him right! However, it would be very unfair to the hurt, angry little girl.
“Maybe we made a mistake with the time,” she suggested.
Mrs. Barnes nodded quickly. “Yes, maybe your father thinks that you are arriving for luncheon or teatime, Lady Lilian,” she added soothingly. “I’m sure we’ll see him soon.”
This weak attempt at diplomacy failed utterly.
“I hate you!” Lilian shouted at Cecily, her tears spilling over as she pounded at Patrick’s shoulder with small fists. “I hate this house, and I hate all of you!”
“She bites,” Patrick warned when Cecily tried to approach. “Be warned.”
Mary pulled her sister back from the wild little creature.
“There now,” Mrs. Barnes spoke up, coming over and stroking Lilian’s unruly dark hair despite her thrashing. “You don’t really hate us, Lady Lilian. This is going to be your new home, and all your things will be brought over this week.”
“Yes, you’ll have a bedroom here, and a room for your lessons, and a playroom,” Cecily continued in the same vein.
“There won’t be room for all my toys,” Lilian objected, although she had calmed a little. “Unless I have the biggest room in the house. I want all my ponies here, too. I only brought four today, but there are more.”
“Shall I take you upstairs and show you your rooms?” Cecily offered as Patrick set the girl down. “It’s one of the nicest rooms. Miss Osborne said you have stayed in it before and liked it.”
“You’re not my mother, and I don’t have to do what you say!” Lilian yelled before Cecily could get any further with her prepared speech. “I want Papa!”
Rolling his eyes, Patrick pulled a bag of sweetmeats from his jacket and offered it to the angry child. Lilian took a toffee and chewed on it too aggressively to continue her rant.
Patrick’s approach was hardly a sustainable way to soothe children, but Cecily had to acknowledge it was a temporary fix.