Chapter 18 #2
“I think that Miss Osborne and I had better take Lady Lilian upstairs and get her settled in,” Mrs. Barnes suggested tactfully, looking to the rather limp and wilting governess.
“It might also be better if Lady Lilian has luncheon in the nursery today rather than in the dining room. We don’t want any further disappointment. ”
Cecily nodded her agreement, biting her lip. Further disappointment, like the Duke not turning up to luncheon either.
Poor little Lilian!
“That is the most spoiled and difficult child I have ever met in my life!” Mary huffed, once the party of three had vanished to the second floor and Patrick had drifted away. “I’ve never seen such behavior.”
“Lilian isn’t bad. She’s only very hurt,” Cecily demurred. “You should understand that better than I, Mary. You also grew up without loving parents around to take care of you.”
“I had you,” Mary said with a dimpled smile, but then pulled a face again. “But even if I did not have you, I don’t think I could have been half as badly behaved as that little brat. I can’t believe you’re not angry, Cecily. She was so disrespectful.”
“Oh, I am angry,” Cecily assured her, feeling her fury boiling up from her stomach to her throat and then her eyes. “Only not at Lilian. Tell Mrs. Barnes to send Rogers up to the Duke’s suite in half an hour.”
She had had enough. The servants might be reluctant to wake up their slumbering master, but she was not. Of all the careless, hurtful, and baffling things she had seen the Duke do so far, this had to be the worst.
“I will relay your message to Mrs. Barnes. But what are you going to do, Cecily?” Mary asked, wide-eyed. “His Grace might be very angry if you disturb him.”
“I could not care less,” Cecily replied, her foot already on the bottom step and her mind prepared for confrontation. “Some things must be done.”
Ascending the stairs rapidly, she headed straight for the Duke’s suite.
* * *
“How could you!” Cecily snapped, finding the door to the Duke’s bedroom unlocked and storming inside without warning. “How could you do that to your daughter?”
An incoherent groan came from the bed as she flung wide all the curtains and let the blazing sunlight in upon the large carved-oak bed where a dark-haired man was now pulling himself into a sitting position beneath the sheets.
“What are you doing?” the Duke asked her in a sleep-roughened voice. “It is hardly late in the day by my standards.”
“Your standards are hardly high,” Cecily retorted and then gasped as she turned back to face the bed. “Oh! Good God! You… You!”
The Duke was evidently naked, most of his lower body covered by a rumpled sheet, but his entire well-muscled torso, arms, and one of his legs were visible.
For a brief moment, Cecily felt as though she had been set on fire as she stared at him incredulously. Then, realizing what she was doing, she spun around again, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the wall as her heart thumped in her chest.
“You are utterly shameless!” she hissed. “What kind of person sleeps naked? And at all hours of the day?”
“I’ll do as I like in my own house, my own room, and my own bed,” he answered, now a little more sharply, having collected his wits. “Now, you’d better tell me the meaning of all this.”
“How can you even ask?” Cecily spluttered. “You have duties and responsibilities! Your daughter arrived this morning, and where were you? Do you have any idea how upset she was?”
At this news, he groaned again, but this time with consciousness and feeling.
“Hell! I forgot it was today.”
“You forgot? Why didn’t you ask the servants to remind you? You could have told Rogers to dress you for nine this morning, but you didn’t. You wanted to forget.”
The Duke fell silent. Then he spoke in a voice that was both detached and a little weary. “Yes, I sometimes want to forget… but not Lilian. As you said, I ought to have asked to be woken. I apologize. This is unacceptable, but I did not want to hurt her.”
“It’s no good apologizing to me,” Cecily huffed. “It’s your daughter who has been hurt and let down. You must go and talk to her as soon as you’re presentable. I have said that Rogers should come upstairs in half an hour.”
“I shall speak to Lilian,” the Duke sighed, not inclined to argue, whether he agreed with her or because he couldn’t be bothered.
“Do you promise that you will?” Cecily pressed. “Promise me on something you actually care about, if you care about anything.”
“I have always kept my promises to you, and I always will,” he responded with a warning edge to his voice. “Do not doubt my word.”
Whatever his faults, he spoke truly, and Cecily had to accept what he said. The Duke had indeed never broken his promises to her.
“I do not doubt you,” she told him, and then tried to explain further the complicated emotions that had driven her to this unfortunate confrontation. “I am only confused by you, and driven to temper by things I do not understand.”
Watching her attentively, he seemed to listen and to understand what she was saying.
“Hand me my shirt from that chair, if you would,” he requested mildly, seeming as though he intended to rise immediately.
Cecily picked up his shirt and held it out toward the bed while keeping her face turned away. Rather than taking the shirt, however, the Duke took hold of her, one hand grasping hers and the other reaching for her waist.
Within seconds, she found herself in his arms on the bed, pressed against the hot, bare skin of his torso.