Chapter 23 Awakening
AWAKENING
The early morning sun barely peeked through the trees as Michael rode along Rotten Row in a peacefully deserted Hyde Park.
He’d been so busy the past several weeks, he’d not ridden as often as he needed.
The whirlwind of meetings and dinners and other social obligations had pulled him into a vortex of sorts, leaving him feeling somewhat out of control.
Enough.
Presently his state of affairs had been manipulating many of his actions and decisions. He needed to reexamine the forces involved in his situation.
What was important? What mattered most? Upon returning from London Hills, Michael had been a man pulled apart by his conscience and his sense of honor as a gentleman.
From the moment he became the Duke of Cortland, Michael had made a vow to himself.
He would live up to the example both his father and older brother had shown him.
Although he had not been included in much of the training Edward had been given, he understood the major principles upheld by the Cortland dukes for seven generations.
First and foremost, do nothing to bring shame upon the title while managing the land in a manner such that the tenants and their families prosper. Honor the pledge of loyalty to England. And lastly, provide for the succession of the title.
Somehow the responsibility of caring for his tenants and providing for a succession had become synonymous with marrying Lady Natalie. His promises involved his honor and his standing in society.
But long ago he had made another promise.
Not publicly, or even formally, but in act and deed he had promised himself to Lilly. He had made this commitment before he had become a duke, and his change in status had not nullified it.
He’d thought she’d abandoned him. Did her marriage relieve him of the promise? And then he learned something about himself.
It didn’t matter.
None of it mattered.
The bigger issue was this: Could he extricate himself from his more recent promise without causing harm to the duchy, Lady Natalie, and for Christ’s sake, England?
First, he considered his estates and his tenants. His obligation to help lower the price of food would be less crucial after the votes had all been cast. Ravensdale had been intentionally stalling to buy time to sway undecided members of the realm. They needed three more votes.
This could be accomplished without his marriage to Lady Natalie. However, it would have to be done before he cried off. That gave him a little less than six weeks.
If he could pass his amendment, then he would have done what he could for his country.
Which left Lady Natalie.
Lady Natalie was a beautiful, accomplished, and tenderhearted young woman, who, he was quite certain, was not in love with him.
In fact, he believed ruefully, she was not even attracted to him.
They treated each other almost as siblings.
Assuming the vote could be presented in time, it was quite possible she might be convinced to jilt him. This was not completely impossible.
Then there was Lilly, the only woman he’d ever loved.
His dearest Lilly, a woman, essentially, alone in the world. Her deceased husband had not provided adequately for her nor for his own daughter. The only family they had left to depend upon was a quirky old woman.
Nearly a decade ago, he had made a promise. He’d promised Lilly his love, his name, and his heart. Years ago, he’d had every intention of honoring his promise.
But he had not.
He was being presented with a second chance.
Feeling invigorated by his decision, Michael leaned forward and urged his horse into a gallop in the direction of his offices. He had work to do.
Lilly sat back upon her heels and examined her work. With the sun barely peeking over the horizon, she had donned an old day dress and come outside to work in the garden. Sleep eluded her.
Over and over again, her mind returned to the moments she’d shared with Michael. Unable to help herself, she remembered what she’d felt when he’d touched her, when he’d laughed with her, when he’d looked into her eyes.
You must know I love you. I never stopped loving you.
She remembered the feel of his body pressing her into the soft grass beneath them.
You are the master of my heart, of my body.
Lying in bed, remembering how they had been together the previous day nearly stole her breath. She’d even been tempted to touch herself, closing her eyes, imagining his hands.
Continuing to rest on her heels, she placed her hand upon her stomach, over her womb.
In spite of society’s expectations, in spite of her position with Glenda and Aunt Eleanor, an aching part of her soul wished Michael had released his seed into her body—that they could have made a child together.
During all her time with Lord Beauchamp, it was the one thing he could have given her which would have taken some of the sting out of being married to him—of living her life without Michael.
Carrying Michael’s child would have involved numerous complications. She would become a fallen woman, shunned by all of society.
But she would have found a way.
She chastised herself for thinking thusly.
But she had remembered something. She had remembered when she’d wiped at her thigh, there had been some…some of it had seemed to be coming out of her.
Agitated at her own thoughts, she pulled at some weeds and broke up a large clump of dirt.
What if she were?
She would leave London—move to a small village far away. Her aunt and Glenda need never be exposed to her condition. Society need never know. As a widow, she could alter the date of her husband’s death. People might suspect the truth, but she could live with that.
Upon this thought, she threw the clump of dirt at a large tree.
What a fool to think such things!
He’d protected her, and rightfully so. They’d made love twice, and on both occasions, he’d withdrawn. She needed to dismiss such fanciful and ridiculous thoughts from her mind forever.
She needed to move forward. Her future was going to be a pleasant one. As, it seemed, was Glenda’s.
They were expecting a visit from Mr. Joseph Spencer soon. Of course, this was not something a person could depend upon, as Lilly knew all too well. But she was hopeful for her niece.
Furthermore, she’d received no further threats from Lord Hawthorne.
Glenda and Mr. Spencer seemed in love. It would be an excellent match for her niece, and then Lilly could relax, knowing her sister’s daughter was cared for. Heavens, she sounded like her father now.
Hmm, Lilly thought. Negotiating the marriage contract was likely going to fall upon her. Perhaps she ought to obtain some legal aid. She had no experience with such and did not want to make a mistake that would come back and haunt either Glenda or their children years from now.
She tilted her head to the side as a thought occurred to her. Could she perhaps have a very small sum included to provide her with a minimal income so she could live independently? She most definitely was thinking like her father now.
Was that ethical? Was it even legal?
Not that she minded being beholden to Aunt Eleanor, but there would be relief in having some financial independence.
A woman had very few options.
She was either owned by her father or her husband.
Having neither, Lilly, finally, was in ownership of herself. And with that ownership came responsibility. She intended to honor that responsibility far better than her father or husband had.
As Lilly resumed her work, another thought loomed.
When—if—Glenda were to marry Mr. Joseph Spencer, there would always be the chance Lilly would encounter both Lady Natalie and Michael—as a married couple. They would be duke and duchess then. They would have children.
Lilly nearly gasped at the thought.
Lady Natalie was close to Aunt Eleanor. In fact, Lilly had learned Lady Natalie was Aunt Eleanor’s goddaughter. Good Lord! She addressed Lilly’s own aunt as Aunt Eleanor!
There would be no reprieve.
Lilly must make her own way. She loved her aunt, but she, herself, was going to need some time to get over all of this.
And if, by some miracle, she were carrying, she could never tell Michael. Even though it would be her deepest desire, she could not allow herself to do so. For if he knew, then either one of two things would happen.
Most likely, he would carry her off to Gretna Green for a hasty marriage to protect her and the child.
Unfortunately, later he would realize he had ruined all of his political plans as well as relationships with the Earl of Ravensdale and other peers.
He would come to realize he had shirked his responsibility to his tenants and dishonored his title, in his own eyes anyway.
He was a man of honor.
In the hours they’d traveled together on the way to London not so long ago, he had gone on at length about how exorbitant corn prices were harming people who had worked and lived on his land holdings for generations. He was deeply committed to this duty to them.
In the long term, if Michael shirked his duties as duke, he would ultimately come to resent her. And then their love, most certainly, would result in ashes.
She did not wish to find herself—ever again—tied to a man who resented her—a man who did not respect her.
And what of Lady Natalie? She would be jilted and heartbroken. Well, perhaps not heartbroken, but what would she think of Lilly? Would she believe Lilly had intentionally betrayed her?
The second course of action Michael could possibly take would be unendurable as well. Because it was possible he would go on to marry Lady Natalie anyway. He could perhaps offer to set Lilly up as his mistress.
Except she did not truly believe he would ever do that to Lady Natalie.