What the Duke Desires
Page 4
He cast a quick glance at the young woman on his opposite side. She was now chattering at her mother, who was still chewing, staring straight ahead, as if she had mastered the ability to block out the constant stream of noise. He shuddered. If he married Lady Amanda, he wondered if he would eventually do the same.
“It’s no bother,” Anne reassured him softly. She smiled at Lady Amanda and then dropped her voice to a whisper. “She does prattle on, doesn’t she?”
He stifled a laugh into his napkin, but did not rise to the bait and reply.
“Actually, I wanted to inquire after you,” Anne said. “You seem distracted. Are you well?”
He looked at her once more. Yes, Anne was everything perfect in a bride, and yet she was still likable and intelligent. Sometimes Rhys’s intended was Simon’s only lifeline that he could find both suitability and happiness in the same woman.
In reality, he simply didn’t want to end up in a marriage like the one between his parents. His mother and father had been separate people, with a strange current of animosity forever coursing below the surface, though they were never so common as to hash it out where others could gawk at their discord.
If it had taught Simon anything, it was that he needed more than just “appropriateness” when it came to a woman he would spend the rest of his life with. The woman who would raise his children and stand beside him at events, not to mention bear witness to his most private moments. His greatest hope was that he might find a wife who inspired a sense of connection, and perhaps, if he was lucky, passion.
“Your Grace?” Anne pressed, her brow furrowing.
Simon shook off his thoughts and smiled. “I’m fine,” he said. “Thank you. Just distracted by the details of this gathering, I suppose.”
“Well, there is much to consider. Rhys tells me you are searching for a bride amongst the ladies. This time in earnest.” Anne leaned closer, conspiratorial. “Is there one who has caught your eye?”
He couldn’t help but laugh, as her question to him was the same as Rhys’s earlier in the day. He found his gaze flitting down the table to Lillian. For the first time since they had been seated for supper, she was staring back at him, eyes slightly narrowed as if she was looking at something she didn’t particularly care for.
She blushed as she realized he was staring at her and turned her face away.
“She is very pretty,” Anne said.
Simon blinked as he returned his attention to his companion. “Who?”
Anne stifled a laugh. “Miss Mayhew.”
Simon looked at her with a sheepish shrug. “Rhys has already regaled me with reasons why she would never be an appropriate bride.”
Anne continued to smile, but Simon thought he saw a brief flash of strong emotions in her green eyes. Anger, perhaps, mixed with a deep sadness he had never seen in her normally steady and happy face. Then it was gone. She picked up her fork and tapped it against the vegetables on her plate without looking at him.
“You and Rhys are like brothers, I know you trust him and have faith in his judgment.” She looked up. “As you should in many things, for he is intelligent and can offer very good advice. But when it comes to matters of the heart…”
She trailed off with a heavy sigh before she continued.
“Don’t listen to him. He can be enormously stupid about them.”
Simon blinked in surprise. He had never heard Anne come even close to making a disparaging remark about Rhys. He wasn’t sure how to respond to it now. He opened his mouth, but she glanced up with a smile, as if the conversation had never happened, and motioned to the man seated to her right.
“I know you were interested in the plight of the child workers, Your Grace. Did you know that Lord Hartvale here has been putting together information about just that issue?”
Simon nodded as the man began to speak about a topic he was truly passionate about. But even as he listened to Lord Hartvale, he found himself looking down the table at Lillian.
Anne was right. When it came to love or marriage, he and Rhys had opposing views on the subject. And since he would only have one chance at happiness with a bride, he would be foolish not to pursue the first strong interest he had felt toward a woman in a long time.
After all, he had two long weeks to get to know Miss Mayhew. Perhaps during that time he would uncover why she glared daggers into his chest, even as she blushed when he smiled in her direction.
Chapter 4
The last thing I wish to do is picnic. It isn’t why I’m here,” Lillian said with a groan as she watched Maggie tie the sash on Gabby’s gown. After the maid was finished, she gave both girls a quick curtsy and exited the chamber.
Her friend turned on her. “You must be more careful, Lillian, the servants do talk below stairs, you know.”Lillian snorted out laughter. “Good, perhaps I can show them whatever evidence I uncover about Roger Crathorne and let them talk. Their gossip is how the ton hears half their news.”
“Lillian…” Gabby’s tone was a warning.
“Very well,” she said through clenched teeth. “I understand your concerns. Still, I have no wish to tromp through the estate and spend an afternoon listening to the woman coo over Simon and purr over his father’s memory. It was ridiculous enough at supper last night. Even his best friend’s fiancée was laughing at every word Simon said like he was the most interesting man in the country.”
She folded her arms as an unbidden image of the very pretty Lady Anne Danvers entered her mind. The young woman had a beautiful smile, and Simon had seemed quite engrossed in their conversation.
Her friend’s eyebrows both lifted gently. “I see.”
The two words hung heavily between them and Lillian stared at her friend in confusion. Whatever did that tone mean?
Finally Gabby shrugged one shoulder. “Well, if you do not wish to attend, I could give your excuses. A slight headache should free you from any obligation to join us.”
Lillian lifted her fingers to her brow dramatically. “I do feel a twinge of pain.”
Gabby laughed before she reached out and squeezed Lillian’s arm. “Very well. I shall make the explanations. But will you promise me one thing?”
Lillian tilted her head. “Yes?”
“If you suddenly recover from your ache and decide to search the house…”
Lillian laughed, for it seemed Gabby knew her far too well for her own good.
Gabby continued, “Be careful. Yesterday the servants were busy and the guests resting. That was as quiet as this house will likely ever be, and yet you were still discovered by Lord Billingham. Once the guests are gone today, the household servants will be more alert to someone roaming the halls. I wouldn’t want to see you get yourself into trouble.”
Lillian nodded. Her friend was only voicing the worries she herself felt. When the opportunity had arisen for her to come here and search, she hadn’t really thought through what that would entail, entirely. She had no experience in intrigue, and in actuality she wasn’t certain she could find what she sought.
“I will be very careful,” she promised. The last thing she needed was for someone to mistake her search for an attempt at robbery or some such nonsense.
“I must go down now. Wait at least a quarter of an hour before you start on whatever your plans are.” With a quick kiss on Lillian’s cheek, Gabby hurried from the room.
Lillian moved to the small sitting room that was part of their chamber and sank into a chair beside the fire, so she could watch the time tick by on a clock that sat on the mantel. It seemed to take an age for each moment to pass.
Finally she threw herself from the chair and began to pace restlessly, moving up and down the chamber in long strides as she cast glances at the clock every few moments.
Ten minutes had gone by since Gabby departed. Lillian had promised to wait a quarter of an hour before she started on her search, but it had been a while since she heard any of the guests buzzing about. Surely they were gone and she was safe.
“Miss Mayhew,” he said, staggering back a step. “That was very smart of you, were you awaiting my arrival?”
He grinned, but Lillian didn’t return the expression. What was he doing here?
“Of course not,” she snapped, then tempered her tone. “I thought you had already departed for the picnic.”
He cocked his head slightly. “I was told you were unwell.”
Lillian took a step back. Was Simon actually concerned for her? That was ridiculous! He barely knew her, and it wasn’t as if she was an important guest. From the way his mother had shot daggers at her last night, she wasn’t even a wanted one.
He had to care about all those things, so why did he continue to pursue her?
“There was no need for you to check on me,” Lillian said, wrinkling her brow.
“I wanted to.”
With those three simple words, Lillian was completely set on her head. Once again, she was struck by how genuine he seemed despite all her misgivings about him.
She stared at him blankly, only managing to squeak out, “Oh.” She shook away her shock. “Well, I hope you did not hold up the party for me. It is only a headache, nothing to worry yourself about.”
He shrugged, but made no move to turn away. “The party went ahead with my mother and the Duke of Waverly. I am to join them after I’m certain of your health.” He looked at her a little more closely. “But I could easily stay with you. I don’t know if I can enjoy myself when one of my guests is unwell.”
She folded her arms. Well, that would certainly ruin all her plans. “Stay with me in my chamber? Goodness, Your Grace, you do know how to ruin a girl’s reputation.”
A little high color stained his cheeks, and momentarily there was a flash of something dark and sensual in his eyes, but then he smiled again, that infectious expression that she hated herself for wanting to return.
“Not in your chamber, of course. That would be entirely inappropriate.”
His response belied her assumption that he was after her virtue. Wouldn’t a true cad jump at the chance to seduce her while everyone was away?
She looked at him evenly. “So you are suggesting that I come downstairs and sit with you, despite my headache?”
His eyes narrowed, but there was no malice in them. Just a challenging light that matched her own. From the sparkle in his expression, he enjoyed sparring with her. Unfortunately…she felt the same way.
“Well, that wouldn’t really make sense, either,” he admitted with a low chuckle that seemed to reverberate in her very blood.
“So you would like to go downstairs and sit, while I stay here and rest?” she asked, unable to suppress a small smile. “You are correct, Your Grace, I’m sure that will make the pain go away.”
“I see that my exalted title inspires no respect in you,” he said with another deep chuckle.
She stiffened at the reminder of that title, but managed to maintain her smile. “None at all, my lord.”
“Still, even if I only sit downstairs while you convalesce, at least I’ll know that I didn’t abandon one of my lovely guests in her time of trial.”
Lillian rolled her eyes. It seemed he could not be deterred. And yet if he stayed here, she could make no search and would only pace around her room, feeling his presence like a heavy cloak.
“Truth be told, I’m starting to feel a bit better,” she said with a small sigh. “Perhaps it would do me some good to take a walk in the sunshine and breathe fresh air.”
“Are you certain?” he asked, and that genuine concern that so troubled her lit his eyes again.
She nodded. “Quite.”
He cocked his head to examine her for a long moment and then said, “Well, then I think that is a very good idea. The group is likely moving slowly to accommodate some of the older chaperones, so we should be able to catch up quickly enough.”
Lillian nodded. “Very well.”
And as she slipped into the hallway at his side, she tried to tell herself that she had no choice but to join him. She also tried to tell herself that a little thrill that he wanted so much for her to do so did not work through her.
When Simon offered his arm, Lillian pretended she didn’t see it. It was obvious it was pretended because her gaze flitted very pointedly toward him before she darted it away and began to walk down the hallway toward the staircase.He cocked his head as he lengthened his stride to catch her. There was that dichotomy again. Their conversation a moment before had been thick with smart banter and he had greatly enjoyed engaging with her. It seemed she had felt the same, but now she refused to touch him. He might explain that as missish shyness, if he hadn’t felt a sense that dislike and interest were warring within her.
He wondered which one would win in the end and if he would ever determine the cause for her reticence.
Not today, likely, so he put the thought out of his mind. They walked down the stairs and out the front door, where he led her down the winding drive and finally off the path through the green countryside.
Once they had walked a little while, Lillian seemed to relax a fraction. She drew in a deep breath. He did the same, smelling the fresh combination of green grass and soft late spring breezes. After so many winter months in stuffy, cold, closed London, this respite was heaven.
It seemed the same was true for her, for her eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment and she let out a tiny sigh of pure pleasure that seemed to ricochet through his body. He shifted uncomfortably. Clearly he needed a woman if a mere sigh could inspire him to lust.
As if she sensed him looking at her, she cleared her throat. “We have been lucky in the weather these last few days. The roads were dry and there isn’t any mud despite everyone walking this way earlier today.”
Simon almost laughed. It seemed she was determined to strike upon the dullest subject possible. She had done the same yesterday when she pretended a disinterest in books. Did she really think she could cover up her delight at his library or the obvious intelligence she possessed?
And did she do so to snare him or push him away?
“It is uncommonly good weather,” he agreed. Before she could continue upon this tedious topic, he hurried to fill the gap in conversation. “I remember you saying you have a brother, Miss Mayhew. Younger, is he not?”
Apparently that was not a good subject, for her spine stiffened and her steps became jerky. After a long silence, she said, “Yes. My brother, Jack, is younger than I am.”
“And where is he now?” he pressed, watching her reactions very carefully. She was like a porcupine, spines extended, making it clear she wanted him to stop, to go away, to be warned.
Her jaw worked like she was grinding her teeth. “London, Your Grace,” she bit out. As he had a few moments earlier, she filled the small gap in conversation before he could ask more. “But what of your family? I’d be very interested to hear about them.”
Simon cocked a brow. Rhys had mentioned that her younger brother was a wastrel, and it seemed that fact was discomforting to her. Still, he wished he could coax out any hint of confidence. Any tidbit of information that he did not have to wring out of her.
He sighed. Perhaps if he shared a bit about his own family, it would help her open up in the future. Give her some reason to have faith that he wasn’t prying, but truly interested.
Certainly he had nothing to hide.
“I also have one sibling, although mine is an older sister, Viscountess Naomi Westford. She will join our party one week from now.”
She nodded. “I’ve seen your sister at events, though we have never met formally. She is a very pretty woman.”
He smiled. “Yes. Naomi was a diamond of the first water when she came out. T
he years have not stolen her beauty, but her kindness and charm are her greatest attributes. We have always been close.”
Lillian turned her face as if to examine the waving blades of grass as they passed. “And of course everyone knew of your father.”
His smile faded a fraction. “Yes. He was a great man and a most excellent father. I do miss him and I sometimes worry about the shoes I shall fill now that I am duke. I worry I won’t live up to his example.”
Her gaze darted to him. “I’m sure it will not be as difficult as you think.”
He looked at her. There was a certain sharpness to her tone that almost seemed sarcastic, but she wasn’t looking at him as they walked, so he dismissed his initial reaction.
“I hope you are correct. We shall see once the House of Lords begins meeting in a few weeks. I’m to give a speech on the opening session.” He pushed away the twinge of nervousness that accompanied that thought.
“And what of your mother?” Lillian asked. “I’ve not yet had occasion to speak to her personally since our arrival.”
Simon sped his step. Normally he would have been happy to change from the anxiety-inducing subject of his career in the House of Lords, but the topic of his mother was hardly a pleasant one.
“Ah, look,” he said, relief washing over him as they crested a hill. “There are the others.”
As they neared the group and he raised his hand to wave, the entire mass of heads turned to face them almost in unison. Simon flinched. In all his life, he had never grown fully accustomed to the attention his title brought.
It seemed Lillian was uncomfortable with the inspection as well, for she instantly took a long step away from him. Without looking into his eyes, she murmured, “Thank you for your concern today, Your Grace. And for walking me here. I see Lady Gabriela and our chaperone. I shall join them. Good afternoon.”
Before he could speak to argue, agree, or say farewell, she darted away, practically sprinting from his side to join her companions. And as he joined the group himself, seeking out a spot beside Rhys and Anne, he couldn’t help a small smile. Miss Lillian Mayhew was a fascinating creature indeed, and spending extra time with her today had done nothing to deter his interest in finding out more about her.