His Unlikely Duchess

by Amanda McCabe

  Money. How she wished she lived in a little cottage somewhere! But then she would be someone else and Aidan would be someone else, and they couldn’t escape who they really were. He needed her money. That was the cold, hard truth. Would it drive him back to Lady Rannock in the end?

  ‘Lily, come and look at this,’ Violet called and Lily turned back to her sisters, who were helping the Duchess unpack all the gifts that were pouring in. She made herself smile, not to put a pall over her sisters’ excitement. Not to let the Duchess see how she really felt.

  She went to study the clock Violet held up, a confection of porcelain cupids and lambs cavorting around an ivory face and gilded hands. ‘It’s from Mother’s family in South Carolina,’ Violet said. ‘Where do you think they found it?’

  ‘Probably dug it out of an attic, after hiding it from the Yankees or something,’ Lily said with a laugh. She watched as Violet found a space for the clock among the silver candlesticks, the Sèvres tea service, the red leather seating chart from Lady Heath so she could conduct her own proper dinner parties, the gilt punchbowl engraved with the Lennox arms. There was even a gift from the Prince and Princess of Wales, matching dressing cases fitted with enamelled bottles and pots and brushes, their initials in gold on the green leather. They sat beside Lady Paul’s hideous mosaic vase.

  Lily stopped to study a small silver statue, an image of Diana the huntress. It looked familiar and, when she peered closer, she saw it was an exact copy of the goddess who crowned the folly in the garden.

  She reached for the card.

  To Aidan, with such brilliant memories, much affection and hope for the future,

  Your Melisande, The Rannocks

  Your Melisande. To Aidan, not to the Duke of Lennox. Not to her, Lily. She curled her hands into tight fists to resist tearing the card apart, knocking the statue to the floor.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Rose asked, so worried, so observant.

  Lily remembered seeing her strolling the gardens with Lord James, and dancing with him at the party, and she didn’t want anything to mar her sister’s happiness. ‘Not a thing, Rose darling. Tell me, what do you think of this punchbowl?’

  As they examined the table of gifts, Stella swept in with a bright smile and another jewel case in her hands.

  ‘Another gift delivered, Mrs Wilkins?’ the Duchess said. She wrinkled her nose at Lady Paul’s vase and nudged it to the back of the table. ‘Roderick shall sag under the weight!’

  ‘Yes, people have been generous, haven’t they? So kind,’ Stella said. ‘But this is a special gift, Lily, from your father and me, and it just arrived.’

  Lily and the twins watched as their mother opened the box with a flourish and light burst forth as if she had released the sun.

  ‘A tiara!’ Violet gasped.

  ‘Not just any tiara. It once belonged to an English queen, they say.’ Stella lifted it out from its satin cushion and Lily saw it was a floral diadem, an intricate pattern of flowers and leaves that built up to a crest. All perfect, pure white diamonds with sapphires and rubies at the centre of each bloom.

  ‘Good heavens,’ the Duchess murmured. ‘It will be perfect when you are Mistress of the Robes, Lily.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Lily whispered. Just the prospect of being a duchess was intimidating enough; she didn’t want to think about being the foremost royal attendant, too. But her mother was already carefully placing the tiara on Lily’s head, turning her towards a silver-framed mirror, another gift. ‘It does suit you, darlin’.’

  Lily stared at herself. She wasn’t sure it did suit her. It seemed to weigh her down, pressing her lower and lower into the Axminster carpet. She remembered Aidan storming out of the house without a backward glance and she sank even further.

  ‘Oh, do let me try it,’ Violet begged and Lily happily removed it and crowned her sister with it instead. It gleamed in Violet’s red curls and she didn’t seem weighed down by it at all. She strolled the length of the room, giving regal waves that made Rose giggle. What a fine duchess her outspoken sister would make! ‘I shall take your photograph wearing it, Lil.’

  ‘I feel terribly inadequate now, my dear Lily, but there is this,’ the Duchess said, gesturing to an open box marked Garrard’s on the far end of the table. Resting there was another tiara, a meander pattern in old diamonds. There was also a necklace and earrings, not nearly as sparkling as Stella’s gift, but lovely. ‘The Lennox diamonds. They could use a good cleaning, I dare say. I wore the necklace at your party last night, but now they are yours.’

  Lily reached out and touched the earrings, recognising the pieces from so many of the portraits around the house. She supposed she, too, would have to be painted in them. The old and the new, like crossroads in front of her. She couldn’t go back now. She would have to find a way to make Aidan love her, and not just her money.

  * * *

  Lily leaned on the terrace balustrade, staring out at the gardens. The lawns were filled with the sound of busy gardeners, getting everything ready for the wedding day, the rush-caw of birds wheeling in the clear blue sky, but she didn’t really see any of it. She was too overwhelmed by it all: the gifts, the wedding, Aidan’s anger as he’d stalked out of the house.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the ever-present shadow of Roderick behind her, its ancient stones and forest of chimneys, and felt almost as if she was drowning in it all. This would be her responsibility soon. She’d been sure she was up to it all, with Aidan beside her. But what if he was not there with her, as she had dreamed? Not really. That look on his face when he had stormed out of the house...

  Was it the money? Had her father not done as Aidan asked? Or maybe it was something more. Something like the beautiful Lady Rannock.

  Was she living in some fool’s paradise?

  She heard a footstep and turned, expecting her mother or the Duchess, come to drag her back to open more gifts, to approve more invitations. But it was Aidan himself, smiling tentatively.

  ‘Lily,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ve come to...well, to apologise for my churlish behaviour earlier. It was most uncalled-for. I was just in a ridiculous temper.’

  Lily bit her lip. ‘I do often see people leaving Papa’s office looking startled. He’s not an easy man to do business with, I fear.’

  Aidan laughed ruefully and ran his hands through his hair, leaving it rumpled. Lily longed to run to him, to smooth those tousled waves, to kiss him, but she folded her hands tightly in front of her and stayed very still.

  ‘That he is,’ Aidan said. ‘But I suppose he didn’t become “King Coal” by being soft, or by being careless as my own father was. And he loves you—he wants you to be happy. As I do.’

  Lily smiled. Maybe happiness was possible here, after all? Did she dare hope? ‘Yes, I know.’

  ‘And do you think you might be happy here?’

  Lily hesitated, not sure how to answer. She glanced over the busy lawns, the summer house.

  Aidan shook his head, looking a bit sad now. ‘Would you walk with me? Perhaps we could go to see the chapel.’

  ‘The chapel?’

  ‘Yes. It’s where we’ll be married, after all, and you haven’t had the chance to even look at it yet.’

  Lily’s mother had pressed for a grand London wedding, or even something at fashionable St Thomas Church in New York, but the Duchess insisted all Dukes of Lennox had wed at Roderick itself. Lily herself loved the idea of a country wedding, but it was true she hadn’t yet seen the chapel. And Aidan did look so eager to make amends, it quite tugged at her heart.

  ‘I’d like that,’ she said and they walked together down the terrace steps through the gardens, past the roses and the herb hedges, the hurrying gardeners.

  ‘Do all grand houses in England have their own chapels, then?’ she asked.

  ‘Not all, of course. Most were knocked down or changed to drawing rooms or
something during the Reformation. But Lennox Dukes, as I think I mentioned, were once Catholics and never quite got over it, I think. We’re all christened and married there.’

  Lily thought of babies with Aidan’s green eyes, and Lady Paul’s loud insistence that Americans were good at birthing sons, and blushed.

  They climbed up a rather steep, grassy hill beyond the lake and Aidan took her hand to help her up. It felt so strong in hers, so steady.

  ‘There it is,’ he said, pointing to a building in a clearing, set amid a churchyard of ancient mausoleums and tilting, weathered stones. It was very old and very charming, all mellow grey stone with a square Norman bell tower and covered porch, just as she imagined an English church should be. They made their way up a flagstone pathway and Aidan pulled open the heavy, creaking, carved wood door.

  A rush of cold air, scented with smoke and beeswax and roses, rushed out. It felt like a magical place, ancient, out of a fairy story or tales of King Arthur, and Lily held her breath as she stepped inside.

  She saw right away it would be the perfect place to be married, where so many couples had begun their lives together before. The ceiling was arched, lined with age-darkened beams, while the walls were painted a pale celestial blue that matched the carpet runner under her feet. Pale blue velvet cushions lined the pews and a blue altar cloth, embroidered with gold, was draped under an old silver cross. Stained-glass windows were interspersed with brass and marble memorials to past Dukes. At the other end was a gallery high overhead, with an organ and choir lofts.

  Lily ran her fingertips over the polished back of a pew. ‘It’s so perfect,’ she whispered.

  Aidan smiled and his shoulders seemed to relax as if he was relieved. ‘Then you approve of the wedding plans?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ she said, feeling for the first time that the wedding was indeed hers—hers and Aidan’s. It was only what would come after it that was a small, nagging doubt at the back of her mind. ‘It will be quite beautiful.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‘Oh, Doris, aren’t we nearly done?’ Lily beseeched, standing very still as she and two other maids fluttered around her. ‘It feels as if we’ve been here for hours.’

  ‘And so we have, Miss Lily, but what did you expect?’ Doris said, pinning and tucking and clucking. ‘It’s your wedding day!’

  Her wedding day. Lily couldn’t believe it had already come. So quickly, in a blur of preparations so vast there had been hardly a moment to be alone with Aidan. When she was with him, her doubts faded; when they were apart, when the ducal duties reigned supreme, she wasn’t sure.

  But now it was all too late. In just an hour, she would be his wife. If her gown was ever finished.

  She forced herself to stand statuelike as another ruffle was tucked into place.

  ‘She’s in a terrible hurry to see her bridegroom!’ Violet teased, as she straightened her own hat. She and Rose, ‘helping’ by sitting about and rearranging Lily’s dressing table, looked so pretty in their bridesmaids’ dresses of white silk with blue sashes, shepherdess’ straw bonnets with blue streamers to match. They also wore matching lockets engraved with the Lennox crest, gifts from Aidan.

  ‘Of course she is, who could help it? He’s so handsome,’ Rose said.

  ‘As handsome as your Lord James?’ Violet teased some more, making Rose blush. ‘He’s sure to be here today, watching you walk up the aisle! You must be sure to throw your bouquet Rose’s way, Lily.’

  ‘We’re just friends, Vi,’ Rose answered, fiddling with Lily’s silver brushes. ‘He loans me books.’

  Lily remembered when once she, too, had considered Lord James. It all felt so far away, such a long time ago. Ever since she had danced with Aidan she had thought only of him. But did he think only of her? Or did her money stand in the way—and Lady Rannock?

  ‘All right, Miss Lily, now you can look,’ Doris said and turned her towards the full-length looking glass.

  ‘Oh...’ Lily sighed. ‘Is that really me?’ The gown was from Worth, of course, made to her mother’s design and Lily’s measurements at top speed, sent from Paris and escorted by its own tailor to perfect it. It was heavy, creamy white satin with asymmetrical ruffles of Valenciennes lace, beaded with seed pearls in patterns of lilies across the skirt and on the tight sleeves. A six-foot train fell in pleats from the shoulders, so weighty it seemed to drag her backwards. Perfect for presentation at Court, her mother had said.

  Doris had carefully curled and pinned her hair, crowned with her mother’s tiara gift to anchor the long, tulle veil that billowed around her like a cloud.

  ‘Oh, Lily...’ Rose sighed.

  ‘I doubt this stuffy old house has ever seen such a beautiful bride,’ Violet said. ‘Let me get my camera!’

  They were finished just in time, for there was a loud knock at the door and one of the maids let Lily’s father in.

  ‘Well, now, I knew my girls were pretty,’ he said, hugging the twins. Rose straightened his gardenia buttonhole. ‘But who are these three beauties?’

  ‘Oh, Papa,’ Lily said. She tried not to cry as he carefully kissed her powdered cheek. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’

  ‘Where else would I ever be on my first baby’s wedding day?’ he said. He smiled gently as he touched the lacy edge of her veil and Lily thought of her parents’ own marriage, the distance between them. Surely it hadn’t always been thus? Her mother had said she loved her rough miner husband at first. Surely Lily could avoid such a fate, if she always held on to the memory of their beginning and how sweet it could be?

  ‘Now, Lily Marie,’ he said. ‘You’re sure this is what you want? All this duking business?’

  Lily smiled. ‘I do want Aidan. He’s a good man, Papa, I’m sure of it.’ She thought of Lady Rannock and the Diana statue, but she shook such doubts away. They had no place on this day, no place in her mind.

  ‘Then he must be, because I know how smart my girl is. Just know this isn’t all you have. You have me and your sisters, and your home in America. And I’ve made sure you’re as safe as can be here. Good man or not, cash in the bank is what we should rely on.’

  Lily swallowed hard. She didn’t want to think about ‘cash in the bank’ and how much Aidan needed that, any more than she wanted to think about Lady Rannock and the past. This day was about the future. ‘I know, Papa.’

  He offered her his arm and Lily took it, glad of its familiar strength as they made their slow way down the corridors and the grand staircase. Doris and the twins carefully lifted her heavy train, guiding it past the potted palms and arrangements of pink and white roses everywhere, the servants having gathered to watch her walk past. Even though the Roderick Castle chapel was only across the rose garden, a carriage waited to convey them there, its top lowered and bedecked in more roses.

  The bells tolled merrily at the chapel, which looked so different in the daylight, so bright and welcoming. The Bishop who was to perform the ceremony stood on the covered porch, along with Lily’s mother. Stella was resplendent in sky-blue brocade edged with black lace and she dabbed at her eyes with a lacy handkerchief beneath the tulle veil of her hat.

  ‘Such a splendid, sunny day, my darlin’,’ she said as she watched Lily alight, Rose straightening the train behind her. ‘Happy is the bride the sun shines on!’

  ‘I do hope you’re right, Mother,’ Lily said. But there was something glorious about the light through her veil, the warmth on her satin-covered shoulders. Something hopeful in it all. She could surely make her life what she wished it now. She was free. She could help her sisters. And Lady Rannock would soon be gone.

  ‘Of course I am! You’re going to be a duchess. What could be more splendid?’ She straightened the tulle folds of Lily’s veil and sniffled. ‘Now, I shall go to my seat and the bells will cease tolling. That’s when you’ll hear the organ fanfare and begin your procession. Don’t let your father
walk too fast. Isn’t that right, Bishop?’

  ‘Indeed it is, Mrs Wilkins. The music was certainly well chosen. If only my offices had you to organise them!’ He offered his arm to escort her into the church.

  Lily took a deep breath and waited as her skirt was smoothed, her bouquet of gardenias from the Roderick hothouse handed to her by the housekeeper. It seemed an age before the bells quieted and they heard the organ. The twins walked ahead of her and her father led her to the blue-carpeted aisle. He did try to walk too fast, ahead of the music’s rhythm, and she had to press her fingers into his sleeve to slow him down.

  The church was a bower of flowers, every pew decorated with sprays of pink and white roses trailing white satin bows, the walls lined with potted palms, arches of gardenias and roses echoing the soaring ceiling. The congregation, all satins and lace and feathered hats, stood on tiptoe to peer past the arrangements and watch the bride approach. Lily could hardly breathe, everything looked so hazy behind her veil.

  The sunlight poured from the high windows, red, blue, green, gold, and fell on Aidan as he watched her walk towards him. His hair gleamed like old gold and that wonderful smile touched his lips.

  She could see no one else then, her sniffling mother, the serenely smiling Duchess with Lord Shelton on her arm, Lady Rannock with her beautiful face hidden behind a pink lace veil standing with Shelton’s tall cousin. Lily could see only Aidan. Her soon-to-be husband.

  They reached him at last, and her father passed her gloved hand to Aidan. Hers trembled, but his was steady, warm. Reassuring. She saw the sun gleam of his smile through her veil and was suddenly sure she was in the right place.

  ‘Dearly beloved,’ the Bishop said as they stepped forward towards the altar, into their new life.

  * * *

  ‘To the bride and bridegroom!’ Lord Shelton said, raising his glass high. ‘To many happy days to come.’

  ‘And to you and my mother,’ Aidan said, with an answering tilt of his own glass. ‘We’re sure to have another wedding in the Roderick chapel before the year is out and I shall be the one giving the bride away. To the future Lady Shelton!’