Her expression was not what he would expect from someone about to confess undying love. In fact, her expression worried him. His smile slipped, his own brows furrowing.
“What is it? You can tell me anything, Lilith.”
“Yes, well, this isn’t anything. This is something quite specific. It will change how you see me.” She squeezed his hand then pulled hers free, wrapping her arms about her shoulders, tugging his coat tightly around her. “Oh, bother. I haven’t the words. Yes, I do, but I don’t know how to say them.”
He waited.
She stared at him, her eyes dark and unreadable.
The hopeless bonnet remained askew, hanging from her neck by the trusty ribbon. Her skin glistened where the sun caught water droplets. She smelled of the salty sea. His eyes, those treacherous, roaming eyes, dropped to her lips. Full, scarlet, kissable. Unwittingly, he licked his own lips, his tongue dry.
“I like you, Walter. I want you to know that before I—” She stopped mid-sentence again.
Taking her bottom lip between her teeth, she reached out a hand to touch his arm. A light touch, her palm resting on his upper arm.
“I’m afraid you won’t look at me the same way after I say this.”
He breathed a ha. “Nothing you could say would change how I feel about you. If we’re being honest, I’m fond of you, Lilith. More than fond. The truth is—”
“Shh.” She touched a finger to his lips. “Don’t say another word. Please.”
He chewed the inside of his cheek, not at all sure he understood the direction of the conversation.
And then he did not need to understand. As she had done the last time they stood in the threshold, she placed both hands on his chest and leaned against him. Instead of kissing his cheek this time, she kissed his mouth.
Her lips puckered against his, warm, moist, and yielding. He inhaled sharply through his nose and parted his lips to taste her. Tentatively, his tongue licked her, tasting salt with a lingering hint of honey. Her hands moved up his chest to wrap around his neck, threading her fingers through his hair, knocking the tricorn from his head as she pulled him closer. Invitation offered, he accepted by wrapping his hands around her waist and pressing her to him, a shock of cold wetness to his warmth.
With an eager tilt of his head, he slanted his mouth over hers and parted her lips, his tongue plunging into fathomless depths. She was no submissive party to this kiss. Clinging to his neck as though she might fall, she explored his mouth, licking, stroking, undulating, suckling until he whimpered.
His body pulsed, fully aware of every curve and crevice it touched. Hands gripped and caressed her hips, rocking her against him.
Good Lord! What was this madness? He was a man bewitched!
Moving his hands up to her shoulders, he awarded them both a tender end to an unexpectedly passionate kiss before relinquishing her mouth and pushing her gently away. As much as he would love to continue to whatever end that might have led, this was not the time, place, or way. She deserved more than frenzied madness.
His hands on her shoulders, hers around his neck, they stared at each other. Her pupils were so dilated, her eyes appeared black, a stark contrast to her reddened lips and flushed cheeks. Though she looked outwardly like a woman who had been thoroughly kissed, her eyes told a story of a woman distracted, worried, heartbroken. Why the devil would she look heartbroken? Did she fear rejection? She need not for his heart was full! He was ready to go down on bended knee!
Touching the backs of his fingers to her cheek, he asked, “Was that what you wanted to tell me, or was there more?” This certainly would change their friendship, and it certainly would affect how he looked at her.
She opened her mouth to speak then shook her head. “Kiss me again.”
He shuddered a chuckle, a man invited to kiss a goddess. Walter leaned in to press his lips to hers in a slower, gentler kiss, a chaste display of his affection as he brushed his mouth against hers.
When he pulled away, she banished her doleful expression with a smile. Without a word, she bent down to retrieve his hat and positioned it back on his head, pushing it down snugger than it needed be. Her smile growing broader with each passing moment, she reached up to fix her bonnet.
“Good heavens!” she said, her hands exploring the mess of tresses frizzing a halo around her head. “I must look frightful!”
“Indeed, you do,” he said.
“That was not the least gentlemanly of you to say. You should have said nothing could mar my beauty. Don’t they teach you compliments when you learn to converse politely?” she teased.
“But you see, I know you well enough not to be daft enough to lie. Let me try again. How about this? You are stunning even when bedraggled. I suspect there is no condition in which you would look anything but extraordinary. No, make that breathtaking.”
“Oh. Yes, that will do nicely.” Slipping her arm through his again, she tugged him onward.
They made it as far as the conservatory doors before Roddam caught up to them, jogging past them in a wet, sloshing state.
Shaking his head, he showered them in a rain of droplets. “Imagine Liz’s surprise when I wake her,” he said with a wink before dashing ahead of them to torment his wife.
Chapter 9
“And then—brace yourself,” Lilith said with a dramatic pause, “he tied their braids together.”
Walter’s mother hooted with laughter.
“When they stood, the poor girls were knotted together until Miss Tolkey could untangle the mess.”
Though Lilith was turned to face his mother, her eyes flicked his way. However brief the glance, Walter felt himself undressed beneath her gaze. If this continued, he may rethink the wisdom of leaping head first into the frigid ocean.
“I daresay, if he had been a child of mine, I would have strung him by his toes,” Mama said, touching Lilith’s arm. “Go on! Go on! Tell me more.”
The family gathered in the parlor several days after Walter and Lilith’s private moment. Roddam and Lizbeth played cards at the table—Liz clapped and preened enough to appear to be winning. Uncle Cuthbert walked his granddaughter around the room, singing quietly. Mama and Lilith exchanged anecdotes of naughty children. Walter sat with them, relaxed against the chair back, one leg crossed over the other, hoping his mother would not share another when-Walter-was-young tale. She had already shared enough to turn his ears pink for a week.
He was not the only one wooing Lilith. His mother was doing her part with impressive skill.
Neither Lilith nor Walter had spoken about the kiss. They remained, however, well aware of their shared intimacy. She could not look at him without blushing, and he could concentrate on little else. Each day, she sought him out for conversation. The times she did not, he sought her. In the back of his mind, he wondered if she had wanted to tell him something else that day, but she made no mention of there being more, and so, he assumed she had only wished to tell him, and show him, how much she cared for him. Her nerves and melancholy before the kiss were attributed to fear of rejection. Courtship, thus, progressed.
Had she been a young girl, he would have proposed by now. Lilith, though, was a grown woman who knew her own mind. He wanted to give her ample time to know him and to accept him, to assure them both that this was a good match into which they willingly entered without reservation, especially given that he suspected her time at the orphanage had left her more vulnerable than she would admit. Intentional delay or not, he knew he needed to speak with Roddam soon.
To everyone’s surprise, the butler stepped into the room and announced with a formality Walter had not yet heard from the man, “His Grace the Duke of Annick and Her Grace the Duchess of Annick.”
Heads swiveled to the door with more than a few excited exclamations.
The immaculately dressed duke, laced and frilled in a gold and peacock-blue ensem
ble, swaggered into the room. Behind him sauntered Walter’s prissy cousin, Charlotte, wearing an exquisite dress that shimmered as though gilded, her chin held high in hauteur, a smile of condescension on her lips.
“I say, old man, where is my reception? Where is my grand entrée? I expect fanfare, pomp, something after traveling the length of some fifteen miles,” Annick announced, his stare fixed on his cousin Roddam.
Lord Roddam rose from the table, his features brightening in greeting. “Well, well, look who has finally graced us with his presence. You do realize our daughter was born over two weeks ago, not two days ago?”
Annick waved his hand, the rings lining each finger clicking together. “Being a duke is hard work.”
Lizbeth approached Annick, her arms outstretched to take his hands in hers.
Everyone rose to greet the duke and duchess with exchanges of hugs, cheek kisses, or handshakes. Annick bowed deeply to Walter’s mother and kissed the air above her knuckles before kissing both her cheeks.
“Has it only been since June that I last saw you?” Annick said to her. “It feels a lifetime that I’ve been deprived of your company.”
She made a showing of blushing and tittering.
Walter grasped Annick’s hand in a hearty shake, happy to see his old Oxford mate. The family had stayed at the ducal estate for the first part of the summer, but that did not lessen his pleasure at seeing a friend.
Annick turned to Lilith who stared at him with pursed lips. “Ah, cousin. I had hoped you would be here. I warned Charlotte, if we delayed so much as a single day more, you might have returned home. I am charmed you stayed. A certain lady will have two doting aunts to spoil her.”
Charlotte joined him, smiling to Walter, kissing her aunt’s cheek, and touching Lilith’s arm.
“I had hoped I wouldn’t miss you,” Charlotte said to Lilith. “We’ve not had the best of luck crossing paths this year to get to know each other, but I hope to remedy that. You are, after all, my sister’s most favorite person in the world. Well, next to me that is.” She giggled at her own jest.
The duke turned back to Roddam “Now, if you would be so good as to introduce us to the new arrival.”
However much Walter would have liked to strike up a conversation with Annick, the visit was for his hosts, the center of attention being the new baby, and so he sat ever so slightly apart from the others.
Uncle Cuthbert, cradling a Freya who had miraculously slept through the hubbub, introduced his granddaughter to her aunt and uncle. They cooed and exclaimed over her, as expected. Before long, everyone grouped off, Cuthbert, Roddam, and Annick sitting together with Freya, and Lizbeth, Charlotte, and Mama gathering together to squeal over whatever ladies squealed about.
Lilith, too, sat apart, discomfited. She picked at the embroidery on her dress before smoothing out non-existent wrinkles.
They were in a similar position, Walter discerned. They were both family but not of immediate relation. He was a mere cousin to Charlotte and friend to Annick. She was likewise a mere cousin to Annick and near stranger to Charlotte. And so, they sat apart, both looking in, neither feeling the need to interject.
“We’re off to Vienna until the new year,” Charlotte was explaining to Lizbeth and his mother. “His newest opera debuts, you know. And yes, before you say a word, we’ve considered all you’ve said about the turmoil in France, but Drake assures me Vienna is perfectly safe. We’ll return before you know it and shan’t miss a moment of the Season. Will Freya come with you?”
“Yes, of course. Lilith is helping me interview nurses. With a nurse present, Freya will have full-time care in London,” Lizbeth said. “But April is forever away! You will hardly know her by then.”
“Don’t be a silly goose.” Charlotte tittered. “I promise to visit every other day until we leave. Or maybe every three days. Let’s see, shall we? And we’ll be back at least a month before parliament resumes to travel together to London. I would have been here sooner, only, well, we needn’t bore you with family drama. It’s Mary, you know. She and Mama Catherine haven’t been getting on lately.”
Walter drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, not hearing much else of the conversation. Lizbeth, Charlotte, and Mama chattered on about Annick’s sister, Mary. Roddam, Annick, and Uncle Cuthbert carried on their own conversation with occasional attentions to Freya when she stirred.
He looked to Lilith again. She looked back at him. He waggled his eyebrows. She looked down at her hands.
Well, dash it all.
With everyone focused on their own group’s conversation, no one would notice Walter changing chairs. He walked over to Lilith. Taking the seat next to her, he leaned towards her with an elbow on the arm rest.
“You appear delighted. Are they not your two most favorite people in the world?” He grinned devilishly.
“Sebastian always has a kind word about our cousin, and Lizbeth says her sister and I will become fast friends once we’ve become better acquainted. Would you find me rude if I said I doubt their judgment?” She swept a hand over her ear to tuck her hair back, though no strands had fallen.
Walter laughed. “They take some getting to know, but I believe you can trust your brother and sister-in-law’s assessment. Annick is all show with a heart of gold, and Charlotte is naïve but caring. Give them a chance.”
“Funny. That’s the command my brother gave regarding you and your mother.”
He raised his eyebrows. “And the verdict?”
“He was right. And you know it. But I can’t see how those two can be anything but arrogant. The few times we’ve interacted, they’ve been nothing less than pompous.”
“You won’t believe me when I tell you, but neither is arrogant. They put on airs, yes, but you couldn’t have better people on your side than those two.”
She scowled. Her demeanor reminded him of when they had first met. She held her spine just as straight, her hands just as clenched, and her lips just as pursed.
“Once, when Charlotte was maybe ten years old or so, she and Lizbeth came to stay at Trelowen for a couple of weeks, as they often did. There, in my favorite tree—you know, the climbing tree—the girls found a nest with baby birds and, naturally, told everyone at the estate. One of the groom’s boys ran out the next day and knocked it out of the tree. Charlotte was so distraught, she made us all play nursemaid to baby birds until they were healed, fat, and feathered enough to fly away. Now, does that sound like an arrogant woman to you?”
Lilith’s smile accompanied a soft laugh. “No, but she was only a child. People can change.”
“Yes, they can, but not their fundamental core, not who they are inside. As it’s said, a leopard can’t change its spots.”
Before she could respond, Annick approached. So engrossed in their conversation, Walter had not seen Annick move from his seat.
“I say, what a delightful coze the two of you are sharing,” Annick drawled.
Walter indicated the nearby chair. “Join us. We were remarking on how men become arrogant when they inherit ducal titles.”
Lilith choked on air.
Annick threw back his head and laughed. “Too right you are.” With a flourish, he sat next to Lilith. “Ah, Collingwood, my good man. She’s a striking beauty, is she not? It will be up to us to ward off the rakehells in eighteen years. I’ll keep the sabre sharp.”
“I pity the boy who looks at her sideways. He’ll have a formidable gang against him, and between us, I wouldn’t want Roddam as my enemy,” Walter said.
“The problem is,” Lilith said, “no one prepares girls for the world. Parents hide them away until they come of age. The girls are uselessly innocent and uneducated, all in the name of virtue. Rakes and other nasty sorts prey on them, such easy victims, taking no time at all to convince the girls they’re in love, if they even bother to do that much. The girls are so ignorant of th
e world of men, they don’t know the signs to watch for, can’t tell a soul about the attentions they’re receiving, and don’t realize until it’s too late that they’ve been outmaneuvered by a skilled seducer.”
Annick propped his chin with his palm, and Walter sat back in his chair. Well. Goodness. He had not realized how passionate she felt about the topic. Then, why would she not? She taught children on into adulthood, and he wagered that as a midwife, she saw her fair share of unpleasant situations.
“And you propose what exactly?” Annick asked.
“Educate them. Teach them not only about the marriage bed but how to defend themselves against would-be ravishers and rogues.” Lilith’s eyes were trained on Freya, blissfully unaware of the evils of the world.
“Revolutionary words, cousin. I can see why you and Lizbeth get along. And what of you, Collingwood? Do you think women should be kept ignorant or taught as schoolgirls about the old Tib and Thomas?”
Walter had not realized until asked a direct question that his jaw was clenched, and his fingers ached from gripping the arm of the chair. This was not appropriate conversation for mixed company. He was horribly embarrassed. What was he to do? Excuse himself? After years of knowing Annick, he was not surprised how blasé the man was to be having such a conversation. And after a month of knowing Lilith, he should not be surprised, but it did concern him ever so slightly.
He did not want to change her. He liked her as she was, but for heaven’s sake, she was saying these things in front of a duke. Yes, Annick was her cousin, but that did not make him any less of a personage in the peerage. Would she know better than to say such things at a dinner table in London during the Season? She could say all she desired to him and to family, and he did appreciate her forthright nature, but polite conversation would be expected with others—could she be polite? Would she? Was it from her own ignorance of polite society or her refusal to conform?
Dash it all. He did not want to change her, but this was inappropriate.
Running a finger between his neck and cravat, which felt too tight, he said, “Such is at the discretion of the governesses and parents, I say.”
The Baron and The Enchantress (An Enchantress Novel Book 3) Page 14
