Chapter 4 Dinner with a Duke
DINNER WITH A DUKE
After giving Glenda a brief narrative of her prior association with the Duke of Cortland, Lilly struggled to dismiss him from her mind.
She’d known there was always a possibility of seeing him in London, but not in a million years had she imagined running into him along the road!
Even seeing him covered in dirt, nearly a decade later, she’d known who he was the very moment she’d caught sight of him.
And when he’d spoken, his voice had thrown open the portals of time and swept her into the past.
She’d nearly fainted.
But that would not do. She was the responsible one here, the matron, a guardian. She mustn’t succumb to the momentary urge she’d had to throw herself into his arms tragically. No propriety existed in such wantonness. Nor could she lambaste him for his cruel and heartless desertion years ago.
She’d addressed him as though he’d merely been an old acquaintance—one who’d aged better than a fine scotch.
And now, while Mary assisted Glenda into her gown for dinner, her stepdaughter peppered her with endless questions. Lilly must put an end to this. It was as though Glenda was pouring salt into a festering wound.
No, it was worse.
Lilly had not been prepared for this. She ought not to have mentioned the failed courtship. She should have dissembled, told Glenda she’d had nothing but a passing acquaintance with the duke. It had been foolish to mention anything more than that.
“Cease with these questions.” She spoke harshly. “It was not meant to be. I returned to Plymouth and married your father.” Voicing the details of her and Michael’s affair and remembering the agony of his rejection had resurrected her broken heart. She’d rather not contemplate such anguish again.
“You are lucky Father took pity on you! Otherwise you and Grandmother would not have had a home after Grandfather died.” Lord Beauchamp had never been discreet about his lack of regard for Lilly.
It had undermined her relationship with her stepdaughter from the very beginning.
It had also eroded her position with the servants.
Lilly glanced into the small looking glass above the bureau and tucked in a few strands of hair that had escaped her chignon.
She wondered what Michael had seen when he’d looked at her.
Did he see her as the matron she now was?
Did he remember what they had shared? Had that long-ago spring meant anything at all?
Obviously not, or he would have contacted her.
He would have sent her a message. Returning to Plymouth at the end of the season had been the most miserable and humiliating time of her life.
Just the thought of it, even nine years later, made her breathing hitch, her chest tight.
Lilly changed into a periwinkle-blue evening gown with a modest neckline and long sleeves.
Although somewhat worn, it was the best she had for now.
Aunt Eleanor had suggested she invest in a new wardrobe and put herself on the marriage mart as well, but Lilly adamantly refused.
She would never again give the caring of her person over to any man.
Common wisdom and the law suggested women were better off when they had a man to manage them.
Lilly knew better. Although men were stronger, and more powerful, they were also rather idiotic as far as women were concerned.
As much as she had loved her father, he had been wrong.
Beauchamp had been cruel, and Michael had…
well, he had been inconsistent. No, Lilly was free to manage her own life.
She would not relinquish this opportunity.
That being considered, she still wished she had something prettier for tonight. Not that she needed to impress Michael, but she didn’t want to appear unfashionable while dining with a duke.
Glenda chose to wear one of the new dresses that had been made for her debut this spring.
The very pale pink chiffon had barely-there puffed sleeves and tiny butterflies embroidered along the bodice.
She wore new satin slippers, and Mary had styled her hair in an elegant upsweep with several chocolate-colored curls falling decoratively down her back.
When the ladies exited their room, a maid escorted them downstairs to the duke’s private dining area. Rising from his chair, Michael then bowed formally as they entered. He now looked very much, a duke.
The mud from earlier had been washed away, and he was now dressed in evening finery. At the sight of his soft, clean hair and summer-blue eyes, Lilly’s mouth went dry.
He had a manner of smiling without actually moving his mouth. His lips might barely twitch, but laughter lurked in his eyes. It was part of his natural appeal.
He did this as she sat down.
Awareness buzzed through him the moment Lilly entered the room. This surprised him. But it oughtn’t.
She seemed small, beside her stepdaughter. Petite, quiet, and mysterious.
The younger girl, bold and unself-conscious, had no such inhibitions.
She took one look at him, flushed crimson, and made a deep curtsy.
“Your Grace. I am so very honored to have been invited to join you this evening. Such a distinction to dine in your exalted company. Our limited conversations have become tedious, as you might have guessed, what with it always being just the two of us.”
Lilly rolled her eyes heavenwards and made a half curtsy. When she finally allowed her gaze to settle upon him, he nearly laughed at her expression. She’d not meant for him to see her roll her eyes.
Lilly, apparently, was still unsuccessful at hiding her emotions.
She hadn’t changed all that much, then.
The servants rushed forward and pulled out the dining chairs for each of the ladies.
“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Beauchamp.” The younger girl stifled a giggle and blushed profusely at his comment. It had been this way with marriageable misses everywhere since he’d become the duke.
He couldn’t help but watch Lilly.
Her gaze darted around the room, as though she’d rather look anywhere but at him. He was grateful she had been here, at the inn, to clear up the issues surrounding his identity, but he also resented her presence.
For years, anger had burned inside of him. She’d married another man. She’d not waited for him to return. During the darkest time of his life, she’d failed to honor their pledge to each other.
And yet, most unfortunately, Michael was still drawn to her. Lilly’s striking silver-blond hair and warm golden eyes captivated him all over again.
She now belonged to another man. She had a stepdaughter. The girl must be her niece.
When they had courted, Lilly had told him about her dead sister’s widower and the motherless girl.
“It’s been a long time.” Michael spoke softly, unable to look anywhere but at her. He willed her to meet his gaze as he spoke. Lilly stared down at her bowl as a servant ladled some stew into it. Had she forgotten so easily?
She answered, still not looking up. “I trust you are well, Your Grace? Today’s adventure notwithstanding?”
Michael thought he could read the emotions in her eyes. Ah, but he had been wrong earlier. She was, in fact, better at hiding her emotions now. Meeting his gaze at last, she donned a mask of some sort. This was a different Lilly. This was the Baroness Beauchamp.
Michael searched her face before answering. He too, could be nonchalant. “I am doing well, yes. And despite today’s calamities, I find myself most fortunate, indeed. For here I am, dining with two very lovely ladies.”
Glenda blushed and then found her voice once again. “Was it terribly frightening when the highwaymen attacked you? Were there dozens of them?”
“It happened rather quickly, actually.” Anger flared as he mentally revisited the heist. “Too quickly in fact. The robbers jumped from the trees overhead, onto the coach, and before we could do much of anything they had driven off with it.” Shaking his head, he muttered, “Failed to carry my pistols today, idiot that I am.”
Two little lines appeared on Lilly’s forehead as she frowned. “Do you think the attack was random?” she asked astutely.
Michael contemplated his answer carefully. “It would appear so, but one can never be certain.”
The mask slipped, and a flicker of concern crossed Lilly’s once-again-expressive face. “Did they attempt to harm your person?”
“Not directly. But stranding a person in such a remote part of the highway doesn’t take much concern for their safety in mind.
” He chuckled. He didn’t wish to discuss his concerns right then.
Some close friends in London would help him shed light on this outrageous attack.
Hugh Chesterton, the Viscount of Danbury, would assist him in ferreting out information.
This was no discussion to have with ladies.
“But all is well.” He reassured her. Her concern had seemed very real. “Where is that delightful little pup I met earlier? She does not sit at the table with you?” He would tease a smile from her.
Ah, there it was, his heart jumped at the sudden glow. “Miss Fussy stays in the room for supper.” Her grin tugged at something inside of him. “The morning and noontime meals, however, are a different story.”
“And will Miss Fussy be making her come out as well?”
Lilly responded in kind. “Not until she’s been to the modiste. She lacks the proper wardrobe currently. But then, of course, she shall be presented to the queen—”
Glenda interrupted. “What rubbish!” The poor girl apparently lacked a sense of humor.
“Lilly, don’t be ridiculous.” After sending a disgusted look in Lilly’s direction, she turned her attention back to him.
“Don’t give her any ideas, Your Grace. My stepmother has a rather unusual attachment to her dog.
I told her we should not bring Miss Fussy with us to London.
She creates rather a nuisance at times. Even so, Lilly refused to leave the dog behind. ”