Chapter 21 Temptation
TEMPTATION
What with the work Michael was attempting to accomplish in Parliament, he had little time to visit his fiancée.
Furthermore, he lacked much desire to do so.
But it was expected of him. Her father expected it. Her mother expected it. Hell, all of society expected it.
And Lady Natalie was a lovely girl. She’d done nothing to put him off. In fact, he’d realized she wasn’t nearly as empty-headed and frivolous as he’d feared.
No, it was nothing she’d done.
So, when she requested he attend a picnic she’d scheduled with her brother and Miss Glenda Beauchamp, he felt duty bound to accept. He set aside an entire day, rearranging meetings and appointments so he could participate.
She had failed to inform him, however, that Danbury and Lilly would be attending as well.
Seeing Lilly in society, even from a distance, had been difficult. She stirred a restlessness inside of him. And something else—something he was reluctant to identify.
But he was an engaged man. Contracts had been signed, and it went without saying he would dance attendance upon Lady Natalie. He was a grown man—a duke, for God’s sake. He would be pleasant and sociable. He could control his urges for a few hours.
Nonetheless, upon arriving at Lady Eleanor’s townhome in the Earl of Ravensdale’s newest open carriage with Lady Natalie, her brother, and Danbury, Michael looked to the sky hoping for rain.
Not a cloud in sight. In fact, the morning air promised to turn unseasonably warm as the day progressed.
Planned to take place at one of Ravensdale’s smaller properties, the picnic would be held a little over ten miles outside of London. The earl had told Michael he would be doing him a favor by inspecting the general condition of the estate. He also told him he was pleased to hear of the excursion.
Although modern and expensive, the carriage wasn’t quite large enough to seat three gentlemen wide, which placed Michael snugly between Lady Natalie and Lilly.
Facing him was Glenda, who had Mr. Joseph Ravensdale on one side of her and Danbury on the other.
They were to ride thusly for over ten miles… good God!
His left side, cozily packed next to Lilly, sizzled with awareness. On his right side, where his fiancée pressed against him, he felt…nothing. Between the two ladies as he was, Michael sat buried in sweetly scented petticoats and skirts.
Danbury’s eyes gleamed with laughter as he observed his friend’s predicament, but Michael merely shook his head. And then nearly laughed himself.
For Miss Beauchamp chose that moment to open her parasol and nearly took out Danbury’s left eye.
Completely oblivious to the viscount, she placed it upon her shoulder and turned to address Mr. Spencer.
“I daresay…” She paused. “Joseph…” A blush crept up her neck, turning her ivory skin a delicate pink.
“This phaeton is marvelous! It was so thoughtful of your father to suggest it instead of a closed coach. It’s such a beautiful day! ”
“A bit cramped for six people,” Danbury muttered.
The younger couple ignored him.
Joseph Spencer seemed to appreciate Miss Beauchamp’s tantalizing blush when she’d spoken his name.
“Simply beautiful.” He returned her adoring gaze.
Mr. Spencer then shifted nonchalantly and placed his arm possessively along the back of the bench, draping it casually on Miss Beauchamp’s person, somewhat hidden by the parasol.
Danbury rolled his eyes.
Lilly failed to notice the untoward act. And as the official chaperone, she was the obvious person to demand Spencer remove his arm.
Nobody made any mention of it.
Lady Natalie then opened her parasol but rested it on the open side of the carriage. If she had decided to place it upon her other shoulder, Cortland’s eyes would be at risk as well.
“I think, perhaps, ladies carry stealthier weapons than our outriders, Cortland.” Danbury mockingly glanced at the parasols. “They cover it in lace and pretend it is a part of their wardrobe, but at a moment’s notice, they can whip it open and unhand the burliest of ruffians.”
Lady Natalie smiled prettily at the viscount. “The ruffians are not nearly such a menace as the rakes who disguise themselves as gentleman.”
“So a man must be either one or the other?” Danbury asked, raising one eyebrow.
“But of course. Consider my fiancé, His Grace. He is always a gentleman.” She placed her hand on Michael’s arm. “I have never had any cause for concern because he has always acted, and always will act, with the most honorable intentions. For that, I am an extremely lucky lady.”
Danbury laughed heartily at this, causing Lady Natalie to pout. “What is so funny?”
Michael glared at Danbury. “Nothing, nothing at all,” he reassured her. “Lord Danbury simply has something of a questionable sense of humor.”
But inside, Michael agreed with the irony of Lady Natalie’s declaration, if not the humor of it. While his fiancée sat daintily on his right side, his left hand ached to hold the hand of the lady on his left. Lilly’s tiny hands were folded politely in her lap. He felt her shiver slightly.
“Are you cold, my lady?” Michael asked her.
Lilly glanced around at the other passengers. “The wind is still a bit brisk. I imagine as the sun climbs higher I will be fine.”
Michael leaned forward and removed his jacket with as much dignity as one could while smashed into a carriage, holding six, that likely was intended to hold only four.
Not giving Lilly a chance to protest, he draped it over her shoulders. At first hesitant, she touched the lapels as though uncertain as to whether she ought to accept his gesture. But then a cool gust of wind blew down the narrow street.
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
Michael was satisfied to see her burrow into it snugly.
“You see.” Lady Natalie spoke pointedly to Danbury. “Always the gentleman!”
“Was he a gentleman when you knew him before, Lilly?” The young Miss Beauchamp had been paying attention to the conversation after all.
Upon her words, Michael felt Lilly sit up straight again.
But before she could speak, his fiancée turned to look at them both. “The two of you have a prior acquaintance?” Her eyebrows rose. She did not look angry, merely intrigued.
“Years ago.” Lilly’s answer was vague, obviously wishing to downplay the connection.
But Miss Beauchamp was not so cooperative…rather somewhat gauche, instead. “The duke was her beau.”
“Glenda!” Lilly admonished her stepdaughter. And then to Lady Natalie. “His Grace and I were friends. It was a very long time ago. Heavens! I was barely Glenda’s age.”
Lady Natalie tilted her head to one side, and her eyes narrowed slightly. Most definitely not as empty-headed as he’d thought.
“He courted her before he was the duke,” Miss Beauchamp supplied.
“I’d just returned from the war.” Michael could not help but remember. It had been the most tumultuous year of his life.
“He was not a rake.” Lilly surprised him with her statement. “He was a gentleman, even then.” Upon her words, he felt a stabbing sensation somewhere near his heart. He’d acted most dishonorably.
He could not help but meet her eyes. She was being sincere. She was not mocking him, nor was she speaking sarcastically.
“I’ll bet the viscount wasn’t such a gentleman back then!” Lady Natalie laughed. Danbury took no issue with such a declaration.
“Of course I wasn’t, my lady. Whyever would I want to be?”
Lilly did not participate in the remainder of the conversation, which mostly consisted of Danbury and Lady Natalie bantering between each other over who of the ton were and weren’t either gentlemen or rakes.
They both finally agreed that Viscount Castleton was worse than even Danbury.
He must be! He was the Earl of Hawthorne’s son and heir.
Lilly allowed their conversation to drift over her as she relished the warmth of Michael’s jacket.
Michael had never smelled strongly of any cologne, so a person could only know his scent if they were close to him.
Feeling herself a pathetic fool, she inhaled the distinct scent that was him—cleanliness, sandalwood, and the outdoors.
She savored it. She savored his closeness.
Snuggling deeper into the jacket, Lilly closed her eyes.
She would only rest for a moment. Lulled and relaxed, it felt as though hardly any time had passed at all when the carriage slowed.
Lilly roused herself as the driver turned, taking them up a long and elegant drive.
This must be London Hills, the Earl of Ravensdale’s estate.
Glenda could not and did not contain herself from gasping charmingly as they passed the lake and home that came into view.
Encircled by lush greenery, tucked under an assortment of lofty trees, the three-story house was fashioned of limestone the color of butter.
The manor was built on a rise, surely providing magnificent views in all directions.
Southerly facing, the perfectly placed windows and arbors reflected unfettered sunlight.
Lilly caught glimpses of whimsical statues of various types of birds positioned between a few charmingly situated walking paths.
One path led to a lily pond with the statue of a youthful boy with his hand aloft, a small bird perched upon his wrist.
The grounds appeared to be in pristine condition. “I thought your father said he hadn’t done much with this estate and needed us to itemize maintenance issues.” Michael spoke to Lady Natalie. “But at first glance, it looks to be in perfect repair. And it certainly isn’t ‘small.’ ”
Lady Natalie had a smug look on her face.
“The property consists of just over eighteen acres. It passes through the women on my mother’s side of the family.
My mother’s older sister did not have any girls.
She passed away a few years ago, and it has been put in trust for me along with annual funds for upkeep.
” She turned to Michael. “It’s listed in the contracts. ”