Chapter 4 Dinner with a Duke #2
This was apparently not the first time the two women had had this discussion. Michael observed as Lilly stilled and dropped her lashes. “That’s enough, Glenda.” The words were spoken softly, and yet they allowed for no argument. It was clear to Michael that Lilly loved her dog.
“I’ve a few hounds myself—somewhat larger than Miss Fussy.
” Cedric and Norris likely outweighed Miss Fussy by more than ten times her own weight.
“Wish I’d had them with me today. I expect they’d have taken care of those bas—those highwaymen.
” He held his dogs in great affection. Lacking open space for them while in London, Michael had left them in the care of his steward back at Summers Park.
Michael suspected the small dog brought Lilly a great deal of comfort. She had been tenderhearted toward animals before. She’d greeted the occasional dog they’d come across while walking in the park, and at Edgewood Heights…He imagined her dog received a considerable amount of devotion.
Which reminded him. Lilly was married. There would be a husband at home or awaiting them in London.
“You are traveling alone, I take it? Is the baron in London already or does he plan to follow you later?” When the ladies glanced at each other, Michael felt compelled to add, “I was acquainted with your aunt several years ago, Miss Beauchamp, in London—before she married your father.”
The responses to both his question and his statement were very different than he had expected.
Miss Beauchamp gasped and then turned accusingly toward Lilly.
“You promised not to tell anybody! Are you trying to ruin my season already?” And then the girl let out a wail, hastily excused herself, and ran sobbing from the room.
Lilly, dry-eyed, set her fork down and calmly stated, “That would be quite a feat, Your Grace, for the baron has been dead for over a year now.”
What the devil? What had he said to send Lilly’s niece running from the room? And the baron was dead?
Lilly was a widow?
Lilly stared at the closed door and sighed.
“It must remain a secret that I married my brother-in-law. Although of no matter at home, Aunt Eleanor has advised it may not be quite the thing in London. It was illegal after all.” She raised one delicate shoulder and grimaced.
“Glenda will realize I told you about it before. I ought to go after her but…she tends to find more comfort from her maid these days…”
Once Glenda’s wailing had receded completely, those two little lines appeared upon Lilly’s forehead again. Of course, she must have realized they would now be dining together alone.
It was perfectly acceptable. She was a widow, after all. In the past, this opportunity for them to be alone together would have been terribly romantic. Without another word, she delved back into the tasteless stew.
He forced his mind to return to her other revelation. “I am sorry for your loss.” There had been no sorrow or regret in her voice when she’d announced the baron’s death. Regret at the news of Beauchamp’s passing eluded him as well. Lilly again avoided looking him in the eyes.
It was strange, sitting here with her. What had her marriage been like?
Had Beauchamp loved her? Had Lilly given herself to her husband with the same passionate abandon she’d shown with him?
Did she have other children? Did she have a lover?
Who had Lilly Bridge become? Nearly a decade had passed. He didn’t know Lilly Beauchamp at all.
And yet, she was Lilly. As in that moment in the Willoughby foyer, the pull between them still existed—for him, anyway.
He forced himself to remember the aftermath.
She was also the woman who hadn’t waited for him.
The woman who had bolted from town when he’d promised to return.
She’d abandoned him when he’d needed her dreadfully.
Lilly placed her fork on her dish and folded her hands in her lap. “Thank you,” she said, oh so politely. “We expected his passing. He had been ill for many years.”
And then, finally, she met his gaze. “It has been so very long, but I am sorry for the loss of your father and brother, as well.” Upon this topic, she would be sincere.
Michael took a drink of ale and swallowed hard. He had rather hoped to hear these words from her long ago.
Upon returning to her aunt’s town house in London to claim her, Michael had been handed a short missive.
The butler had appeared disapproving. The missive had informed him of Lilly’s betrothal.
Letters he’d later sent to her home in Plymouth had gone unanswered.
He’d stopped writing when her father finally sent him a response.
He’d demanded Michael refrain from any further attempts to correspond with the baroness.
“She is a married woman.” The bold statement had been underlined twice.
At that point, Michael had travelled to Summers Park and seized hold of the duties required of him as the new Duke of Cortland. Keeping busy helped him to erase her from his mind. Erasing her from his heart hadn’t been so easy.
With the ducal seat near Exeter, Michael had struggled knowing she was not so very far away. But she had married.
And that, even more so than the miles that separated their homes, had removed her from his life forever.
“Thank you.” He brought himself back to the present. “It was a difficult time for many. Over half the servants at Summers Park succumbed. Scarlet fever is a ruthless enemy.”
Michael’s statement shocked her. Her father had only told her Captain Redmond had become a duke.
He’d convinced her she’d been jilted. She’d known nothing of a scarlet fever outbreak!
And now, she listened in dawning despair as Michael casually described the conditions he’d come upon when he’d arrived at Summers Park that fated summer.
Would she have resisted her father if she had known this?
Surely she would have! Not knowing what had become of Michael, she had begged her father to allow her to stay in London—to no avail.
Aunt Eleanor was to depart for a summer house party in the country, and her mother had been eager to return to Plymouth.
Her father had insisted that as a duke, Michael would no doubt look higher for a wife.
The season is over, and the time for this nonsense is past. He had insisted on the betrothal and her quick wedding to Lord Beauchamp. He’d been anxious to have her settled.
Her father’s concern had had merit. For he had shortly after become very ill with a cancer. He’d died that year on Boxing Day, one day after Christmas. By insisting upon her marriage to the baron, her father had secured a home for both Lilly and her mother with Lord Beauchamp.
“You haven’t yet married?” Lilly asked, even though she was sure she would have heard something if he had.
Nearly a full minute passed before Michael responded. “I am to marry in June.”
It made no sense, but it seemed as though a part of her heart died all over again upon hearing his words.
She recovered quickly. “Ah, then, felicitations are in order.” She sipped at her watered-down wine and then set the glass back down. Her hand shook slightly.
“Tell me about her.” She would not spare herself these details. Let me put this part of my heart to death once and for all.
“She is Lady Natalie Spencer, daughter of the Earl of Ravensdale,” he stated baldly.
Lilly waited for him to embellish upon his announcement, but he did not. “I remember the Countess of Ravensdale as a charming woman. She was a good friend of my aunt’s.” Lilly searched her memory. “I know they have several sons, but I don’t believe I ever met any daughters.”
“There is just the one. She came out last spring.”
“She must be very special.” Lilly felt as though the words would choke her. Oh, God, the girl must be close to Glenda’s age.
Michael grimaced and then covered it with a wry smile. “Oh, she is.” His voice sounded tinged with…irony? Perhaps he’d rather not discuss Lady Natalie with Lilly.
But Lilly could not let it go. “How did you meet?” she persisted.
Michael’s eyes narrowed. “The usual. Last season at a ball…” He lifted his chin. “The Willoughby Ball, in fact.”
“Oh.” Lilly wasn’t sure how she ought to respond to such information.
That broken part of her heart now felt as though the heel of a boot was grinding it into the ground.
Lilly pinched her lips together and stared at the top button of his jacket.
It was a burnished gold. The backs of her eyes burned. Had he intended to strike out at her?
He smiled a bit vindictively at Lilly’s apparent loss for words. “Both ironic, and yet fitting, don’t you think?” he said.
Ironic and yet fitting? Gathering her composure, she responded, “Whyever would you say that?” And then she met his eyes with a hard stare of her own. She had been harboring the notion that they would not address the past this evening.
Was he really going to do this?
If so, he’d have to do better than that. Her eyes challenged him. If his eyes could be ice, then hers could be fire.
Michael crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, his cold gaze fixed upon her. “I believe,” he said chillingly, “that was where I’d thought I’d found my future wife once before.”
Blinding fury exploded within her. How dare he!
How dare he! Standing up, Lilly pushed her chair back abruptly, not caring when it fell over.
“I certainly hope you act with more honor this time then, Your Grace, as you failed to follow through with your promise on that first occasion!” She did her best to keep the tears in her eyes from overflowing.
His words had been brutal. She should hate him!
Instead, confusion and shame threatened to engulf her. Knowing now, something of the ordeal he’d experienced with his brother and father, she second-guessed herself.
Had their separation been a betrayal on her part? Had her immaturity, and not his lack of honor, brought about the end of their courtship? Had he suffered as well?
Her conscience berated her for impugning his honor, but his cruelly delivered comment had hurt.
She would not relinquish her anger yet. Before losing her composure completely by bursting into tears, Lilly walked to the door, spun around quickly, made a hasty curtsy, and said, “Good night,” in a wobbly voice.
There must have been a strong draft in the corridor, however, for the door slammed closed violently behind her.