His Unlikely Duchess
Page 22
Her gaze caught on the silver Diana statue, positioned between two Meissen vases. She remembered the card that came with it, Aidan and Lady Rannock in the summer house, wrapped in a past she couldn’t share.
Before she could stop herself, she reached out and knocked the statue from its perch. Diana tumbled to the carpet with a loud thud, her bow snapping off.
The door opened suddenly and a maid appeared, as if waiting outside for any sign. ‘Your Grace! Is everything well?’
Lily took a deep breath and smoothed her hair. She was being ridiculous and she knew it had to stop. ‘Quite. I just had a bit of a clumsy accident, I’m afraid, and I broke this statue. Can you take it to Donat to be repaired?’
‘Of course, Your Grace,’ the maid said, wide-eyed as she swept up the unfortunate Diana.
* * *
Aidan reached for his onyx cufflinks as he finished dressing for dinner and glanced quickly into his shaving mirror. It was most odd—even after months back in England, as Duke, and now a married man, master of Roderick Castle, he didn’t recognise himself in his proper evening dress. He still felt like Aidan, tramping through jungles in old dungarees and cracked boots, sleeping under the stars.
How very odd life was, he thought with a laugh. He’d never envisioned anything like this. It wasn’t meant to be his destiny. When facing rampaging lions or venomous jungle snakes, he’d never been cowed. Never felt out of place. But now, dressing for a respectable dinner at the vicarage, with his wife, he felt completely displaced.
He thought of all the tenants like the Halls, of the eighty servants at Roderick. He thought of Lily. How hard she’d been working since they came home, how much everyone already seemed to love her. She deserved the best he could give her. But what did he really have? A crumbling old house and endless work. Not to mention duty dinners at vicarages.
She deserved all that was fine and beautiful. Could he give it to her? Could he, this new Aidan he was only just getting to know himself, really be worthy of her? He remembered too well the hurt look on her face when he stormed out of the house after meeting with her father before the wedding, her confusion when he cut their dinners short, pleading paperwork.
He would find a way to make it all up to her. He had to.
‘Will that be all, Your Grace?’ his valet asked.
Aidan glanced at the watch that had been Lily’s wedding present to him and nodded. ‘Oh, yes. We can’t be late.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Aidan was sure Lily was still asleep early the next morning when he made his way past the door of the Duchess’s Chamber. He heard only silence beyond. The light filtering past the curtains on the corridor windows was still yellow-grey, the day barely beginning, and surely Lily wouldn’t have opened her eyes. His new habit was to rise very early and see to business; he realised with surprise that he didn’t yet know what Lily’s ‘habits’ would be. They had barely landed on their feet at the estate after those giddy days at Brighton and he had to admit he wasn’t sure what to do next. Lily seemed to feel the same and he didn’t know how to get past that.
His previous life was very different—travelling where he liked, meeting who he liked. And his only vaguely distant idea of what being a duchess entailed came from his mother, her shopping and parties. He had a difficult time imagining that would make Lily happy. But what would? What could he do?
During the day, when he went out to examine the estate, the crumbling fences and tracks that needed to be replaced, he tried to imagine Roderick his way. Their way. Lily’s way, really, since the money was hers. Yet he didn’t know how.
To his surprise, Lily wasn’t still abed, even after their dark, enjoyable hours together. There he did know how to make her happy, at least. She sat at the round table of the Yellow Breakfast Room, dressed in a crisp white shirtwaist and blue serge skirt, pearls at her neck and ears, her head bent over a notebook as she sipped coffee and scribbled notes.
She glanced up and smiled at him, strangely shy after what they had been doing mere hours before. She did look rather different that morning, businesslike, serious. He noticed the room, too, looked suddenly different, furniture rearranged, different paintings on the yellow and white walls.
‘Good morning, Aidan,’ she said, a faint pink blush staining her cheeks. ‘There is coffee in the pot. Shall I ring for more toast and eggs?’
‘Coffee will do.’ He poured out a cup and sat down across from her, trying to peek at her notebook. What was she devising? ‘You’re up early today.’
‘I thought I might ride out with you later. I’ve been corresponding with Papa’s accountant...’
She had been taking over estate business? Was that what her father meant by leaving the money in her hands? ‘The accountant?’
There must have been something in his tone that made her glance up at him sharply. ‘Of course. It’s our money, is it not? Our decisions on how to improve Roderick. I wanted his advice, but now I want to see it all for myself. I hope you don’t object?’
Aidan was surprised. Roderick was surely his responsibility. But he had to admit he liked to see Lily’s confidence growing. ‘Not at all. As you say, it’s your—our money.’ He poured out more coffee, considering his next words carefully. ‘What are some of your ideas?’
‘As I have already mentioned, I had thought perhaps a school. For the local children. The village school must be far away, especially in the winter, and there doesn’t seem enough space there. If we had our own school on the estate, we could hire our own teachers, have a curriculum that could be useful to them here at Roderick.’
‘And where would this school go? Roderick is large, but there needs to be room for new farms, as well.’
Lily frowned, as if worried he might disapprove. ‘It need not be large. I’m not thinking it must be Eton.’ She slowly reached for the toast rack. ‘You don’t...mind a school, do you, Aidan? I am still learning so much and I don’t think...’
He suddenly felt like a heel for making her doubt her idea. He didn’t want that at all; he never wanted that for her. It was all new to him, as well. ‘Not at all.’
She shuffled the pages of her notebook. ‘I also noticed that many families are taking care of aged relatives, which must be difficult when everyone is working. Perhaps there could be a place, near the village, where they can join others for the day sometimes, talk, play cards, have a bit of tea, maybe listen to a lecture or two? Your mother said she liked to read to tenants’ parents sometimes, but this doesn’t seem like a long-term solution...’
‘What a fine idea,’ he said, surprised and a bit chagrined he had not thought of such a thing. His focus was always on improving the land, making the agricultural lands yield more. Maybe Roderick could be made theirs?
‘Shall we ride out, then? I just need to change into my habit,’ she said, tidying her papers. He nodded; he could tell he had a long way to go to keep up with his wife, but maybe things would work out all right after all.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lily studied herself in the mirror and hardly recognised herself. She looked so much...older. Her eyes burned dark in her pale face, her hair heavy on her brow. Was that really her, bookish Lily Wilkins? Or was she transforming, like an insubstantial wraith, before her very eyes, into the Duchess of Lennox?
At least she knew her gown was her own, for this, the Dowager Duchess’s engagement dinner. In New York, among the Knickerbocker set the Wilkins could never claim, brides wore their wedding gowns in the season after the wedding as tradition. Her mother had insisted she do the same, so Doris had trimmed the high neckline lower and shortened the sleeves, and removed the train to put away for her future Court presentation.
She wore her pearl collar necklace and the Lennox diamond tiara and earrings. She reached up and touched it, feeling the sharp, cold edges of the stones through her glove. It didn’t seem to belong to her. Would it ever?
She turned away from the mirror and reached for her fan. As she took up the ostrich feathers, there was a knock at the door. Hope rising in her that it might be Aidan, come to have a quiet, reassuring word, she called, ‘Come in!’
But it wasn’t Aidan. It was her mother, sparkling in maroon satin and a parure of rubies and topazes, her eyes shining as she kissed Lily’s cheek.
‘My darlin’ girl,’ she said happily, fairly fluffing her feathers as ‘mother of the Duchess’. ‘How pretty you look. So regal. I’m so very proud of you!’
Lily made herself smile. ‘Thank you, Mother. I’m so glad you could be here tonight, even though the twins had to stay with Lady Heath in London. I’ll miss you all so much.’
‘I would never abandon my baby as she takes her first steps in such a new life! Your father does want me to return to him in New York before the winter season, but there’s plenty of time for that. I’m here if you need me, though I know you do not. We did bring you up to be equal to any challenge.’ She wandered about the room, studying the silver brushes on the dressing table, the flowered hangings of the ancient Duchess’s bed, the porcelain shepherdesses on the mantel.
Lily wondered if she was equal to it all. ‘What will you do before you go home, Mother?’
‘Oh, travel a bit, perhaps! Violet and Rose should see more of Italy and get a little more polish. Violet is such a hoyden! Not that Rose needs polish, of course.’
‘In what way?’
Stella sat down on the blue velvet sofa by the fireplace. She smoothed the black braid passementerie on her skirt. ‘She tells me Lord James Grantley has proposed.’
‘Proposed?’ Lily cried. ‘So quickly?’
Stella smiled smugly. ‘Your own engagement was swift, as well, Lily. I can’t stop true love in my children. I remember that from my own youthful heart!’ She fluffed a needlepoint pillow. ‘He’s called on her often since your wedding, taken her to the theatre, out driving. Even to the British Library, which pleased her no end, though I don’t think it very romantic. All those dusty books! But Rose is so happy.’
Lily sat down beside her mother, remembering her own old thoughts about the kind Lord James, her joy and worries for her sister. And that small, selfish gladness that Rose would stay in England with her. ‘Will Papa agree?’
‘I’m sure he will. It’s not as fine as your match, Lord James being a younger son and all, but he suits Rose. That girl is so quiet, so buried in her studies, I’ve rather worried about her.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ Lily said softly. ‘They’ll do well together.’
‘And now two of my girls are happy! Lily, I’m so pleased. Now, we just have to find someone for Violet.’ She sighed with a frown. ‘That might not be so easy. All she does is sit behind that camera all day now.’
Lily thought of Lady Heath and Stella’s ‘gifts’ to her friend for such adept matchmaking. ‘I’m sure Lady Heath can help you.’
‘I’m sure she can! What a good friend Eleanor has been. Now, darlin’, shall we go down? They’ll be expecting you, the Duchess! Everyone says you’re doing such a fine job here.’
‘I hope so! You go ahead, Mother. I’ll be there in only a moment.’
Stella took her hands and suddenly kissed her cheek, surprising Lily. ‘Oh, my girl, I am so proud of you. You will be such a fine duchess. And maybe soon I may be a grandmother?’
Lily felt her cheeks turn hot and she looked away before she could let thoughts of what happened between her and Aidan in their quiet bedroom intrude. ‘I don’t know, Mother. But you will be almost the first to be told.’
Her mother patted her cheek and hurried out of the room, leaving her spicy Parisian perfume behind. Lily smoothed her hair and her gloves, fluffing up the lace of her wedding gown. A baby—would that be true one day, soon? Her own child, hers and Aidan’s?
Flushed and shy, she tiptoed to the connecting door to the Duke’s Chamber. He had come through it before, in the dark and quiet of night, her husband, her own. ‘Aidan?’ she called softly and knocked. She couldn’t hear any sound from beyond. Had he already gone downstairs?
Feeling foolish, she spun around and hurried out of the chamber. Whether or not she yet felt like the Duchess, she had to make sure everything was as it should be downstairs and she shouldn’t mope after her husband like a schoolgirl. She passed the rows of guest rooms—the Chinese Chamber, where the Dowager Duchess was lodged, next to Lord Shelton in the Primrose Chamber, all the Countesses and Earls, old Lady Paul. At the end of the corridor was the Mauve Room, where Lady Rannock had been lodged. Lily had thought the silvery shades of the room would suit her.
A burst of merry laughter floated from behind the closed door, the clink of glasses. Lily heard the murmur of voices, Lady Rannock’s high and gleeful, and the answering tenor of a man. She could make out no words, but the tone of the chuckle sounded rather like... Aidan. But that couldn’t be, could it?
She backed away, her face burning, her stomach queasy. She dashed away as fast as her heeled satin shoes could carry her, bursting out of the corridor and into the Elizabethan gallery. That heat of embarrassment turned icy cold, a chilly knife at the centre of her. Could Aidan really be with Lady Rannock?
She paused for a moment at one of the windows to catch her breath and compose herself. She pushed open the rusty old casement and let in the evening air, filled with the sweet scent of roses and cut grass, the sound of gardeners retiring for the evening. The sun was low in the sky, gilding everything.
Had she been fooling herself all these weeks? When Aidan proposed to her, when he rowed with her on the lake and made her laugh? Those golden days in Brighton? Had that all been something of a dream?
No, surely she was not as blind and silly as all that. Those days with Aidan were real. Aidan was her husband, he cared about her. They had just been buried in duties, in finding their way, since they had returned to Roderick. He was often tired, as was she. Overwhelmed. They would find themselves again.
As long as he did not find Lady Rannock first? Or find her again?
‘Your Grace?’ Donat said.
Lily drew as deep a breath as her stiff silk bodice would let her and made herself smile before she turned to the butler and his impassive expression.
‘Yes, thank you, Donat,’ she said. ‘Are all the guests in the White Drawing Room? Is the Duke down yet?’
‘Not yet, Your Grace. Her Grace the Dowager Duchess and Lord Shelton are there, as well as Mrs Wilkins and a few of the others.’
Lily nodded. ‘Please do have a footman remind His Grace, then, and possibly bring in more sherry?’
He cleared his throat. ‘The Dowager Duchess would say...’
Lily was rather tired of the servants always telling her what the previous Duchess would say. ‘Sherry, Donat, thank you.’
She left the gallery and hurried down the stairs to the drawing room. It had been restored to its old ways after her wedding breakfast, every velvet hassock and marble plant stand, every portrait, back in its old spot. The Dowager Duchess and Lord Shelton were chatting with the other guests near the terrace doors, open to the lovely night, laughing over their sherry.
‘Oh, Lily, my dear, I so love what you have done in here,’ the Duchess said, gesturing to the one painting Lily had moved before airily kissing her cheek. Her dark green satin and chiffon gown glowed richly, just like the new emerald tiara in her hair. ‘I would never have thought of that Dutch landscape there!’
‘It’s so beautiful, such a h
appy scene,’ Lily said. ‘I wondered if it was too dark for it on the staircase.’
‘Well, it is kind of you to host Shellie and me for our engagement dinner here. We do so appreciate it, don’t we, my dear?’
Lord Shelton, who was flirting shamelessly with Lily’s mother and an auburn-haired countess, bowed low and said, ‘Oh, yes, my love, quite marvellous.’
‘Roderick Castle is always your home, of course,’ Lily said. Would it ever feel like her home, too? She’d had such hopes on her wedding day. She just had to keep trying. ‘Your notebook on housekeeping has been so valuable to me.’
The footman offered her a glass of sherry. As she took it she noticed Lord Rannock standing by the open doors, swaying and red-cheeked as if he had been imbibing of the sweet wine rather freely. His wife was nowhere to be seen.
The Dowager Duchess waved Lily’s words away with her fan. ‘I simply wanted to share all my years of work, Lily darling, all that trial and error! It should not go to waste. Of course, you are such a quick learner. American girls always are.’
‘And sons!’ Lady Paul shouted and banged her stick on the parquet floor. ‘They’re also good at having sons, I hope.’
‘Of course,’ Lily murmured and waved to the footmen to make sure Lady Paul had more sherry immediately.
‘Now, where is my own son?’ the Dowager Duchess asked, laughter in her voice. ‘I was hoping you two would play for us on the piano before dinner.’
‘Here I am, Mama,’ Aidan said as he strode into the drawing room, so tall and golden and smiling. ‘I am sorry to be late for your special dinner.’
He kissed Lily’s cheek and she smiled, feeling warm again. He bowed over her mother’s hand and Lady Paul’s, making her giggle like a girl, just as Lily felt herself. Lily only then noticed Lady Rannock slipping into the drawing room behind Lord Clarendon, her slim figure sheathed in a silver lace gown that changed and shimmered with every movement. She went to her husband, who grabbed her hand hard and whispered into her ear, making her frown. Was he admonishing her for being with Aidan?