Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

L illian stared at the nearly empty cup of tea on the table before her, her appetite dwindling. Her thoughts remained on last night when she had stood at her window and watched the Duke as he stepped up into his carriage. He had noticed her at her window, and they shared a moment filled with tension and exhilaration. Never in her life had Lillian felt emotions quite as strongly as she did for the Duke of Yarmouth. She was well aware of the rumors about the Duke, but not certain whether she believed them to be true. Timothy had made it clear during dinner that they were mere rumors made up by an unknown person, but her mother seemed convinced that they were true.

“You are awfully quiet this morning, sister.”

Timothy’s words brought Lillian back to the present moment and she shifted her gaze to her brother.

They were seated at the breakfast table, the rain clattering against the windows, and there was a chill in the air. Lillian was certain that it was the aftermath of the terrible evening they had experienced. She had desperately wished to stay at the dinner table, but her mother had not allowed her to. It was frustrating and reminded her that she would never have control of her life. Perhaps marriage was the escape she needed from her mother’s controlling ways.

“Usually, you would be talking non-stop.”

Lillian shrugged her shoulders gently and sighed.

“What did you, Father, and the Duke speak of, after I was so forcefully removed from the dining room?”

Timothy shook his head.

“Our conversation is not for such delicate ears as yours, Lillian.”

“Please, Timothy?”

“I cannot, even if I wanted to.”

“That is not fair,” she muttered.

“Do not fret. There is nothing to worry about.”

Lillian shook her head.

“I am not worried. I am curious.”

“Curious about what?”

“Did the Duke do those things that were printed about him in the newspaper?” she asked.

“Of course he did not.”

Lillian’s brow furrowed and she rested her hands on her lap.

“How can you be certain?”

“Lillian, I have known him for a long time, and he is not the type of man who would do such things. He is a good man and a good friend. He would not lie to me.”

“Everyone tells lies.”

“And you have experience in this?” Timothy asked.

“You lied to Mother by not telling her that you had invited the Duke.”

“I did not lie. I merely answered vaguely.”

“A lie of omission is still a lie, Timothy,” Lillian pointed out. “You were fully aware of Mother’s probable reaction if she found out that you had invited the Duke to spend Christmas with us.”

“I apologize. Is that what you wish me to say?”

Lillian sipped her tea and set her cup down on the table.

“I wish you to tell me the truth.”

“I will not disclose what we spoke of at dinner, sister.”

Lillian shook her head and cleared her throat.

“That is not what I mean. I wish for the truth. Did the Duke do all of those things?”

Timothy turned to Lillian and looked directly at her.

“I swear to you, Lillian. Yarmouth did not do those things. And how could he? He has been in Cornwall for two years. He has not even set foot in London in that time.”

“And you are certain of this?”

“He and I have been corresponding since he returned to Cornwall. Each week I would receive a letter from him and write one in return. There is no possible way that he was anywhere close to London.”

“He did not gamble himself into financial ruin?”

“He did not.”

“And he did not visit undesirable haunts?”

“Not at all. The Duke is a man of integrity and morals. He may visit Brooks with me, but his only vice is his tenacity,” Timothy answered.

“Why is he in London, apart from joining us for Christmas?” Lillian asked.

“He is determined to find the writer of the article and restore his reputation.”

Lillian tilted her head to the side, studying her brother’s face. She had always been able to tell when her brother did not speak the truth, and today, she was certain that everything he had just said to her about the Duke and the false rumors was the truth.

It was quite a relief to know that. She did not wish to have feelings for a man who had gambled away his fortune and visited places that any respectable man did not set foot inside. She did not even wish to think of it, but Timothy’s confirmation of his innocence certainly eased her worries.

“And how would he do that?” Lillian inquired as she crinkled her nose.

“He visited the printers of the newspaper to see if they could give him any information about the man who brought the article into the printers to be published. But unfortunately, that enquiry yielded little in the way of results.”

“He found out nothing?”

“Only that the person paid triple the normal rate, in coin.”

Lillian’s brow furrowed and her lips pursed momentarily.

“A wealthy member of the ton is not very much to go on, Timothy.”

“Indeed.”

She stared at her empty cup of tea and her shoulders straightened.

“I would very much like to help.”

“Help with what?”

“With finding the person responsible.”

Timothy nearly choked on his tea and looked at Lillian in shock and surprise.

“That is preposterous.”

“Why? I can be resourceful if given the chance,” Lillian grinned and raised her chin, her lashes fluttering.

“I do not doubt that for a moment, sister, but Mother will never allow you to do that. She is far too set on finding you a husband.”

“Lord Bertram, I assume. She has been speaking of him non-stop. It is rather annoying,” Lillian sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Lord Bertram? She honestly thinks that he is the best suitor for you?” Timothy uttered in disgust.

“Indeed.”

“I can now understand your defiance.”

Lillian narrowed her eyes and wondered what Timothy was not telling her about Lord Bertram. At the mere mention of his name, each time, Timothy’s jaw tightened, and his eyes were dark with animosity.

“What is it about Lord Bertram that you do not like, brother?”

Timothy shifted in his seat and his jaw tightened in its usual manner when the subject was brought up. He straightened his waistcoat and softly cleared his throat, attempting to appear nonchalant.

He failed miserably.

“He is not the right suitor for you.”

Lillian rested her elbow on the table and her chin on her hand. Usually, her mother would not allow her to rest her elbows on the table, since that was not what a proper lady did.

“And since when has that become a concern of yours? I was convinced that you and Mother were trying to marry me off to the first gentleman who came calling.”

“That is not true. I have always had your best interests at heart. But I must disagree with Mother. Lord Bertram is not a suitable husband for you. For another young lady, perhaps. But not for you.”

Timothy had been a protective older brother since Lillian could remember, but never before to this degree. There was definitely something Timothy was not telling her.

“Lord Bertram also attended Oxford. Do you know him from there? Were you friends?”

“No, we were most certainly not friends. And why do you have all these questions?” Timothy asked with clear discomfort.

“I only wish to know why you think that he is not a good suitor.”

“You will not have a fulfilled life with him, Lillian, and that is all I will say on the matter,” Timothy said.

Lillian studied him for a moment, hoping he would change his mind and tell her what he knew, but much to her dismay, he did not.

At this rate, she might never know.

“Timothy, I-”

“Lillian, darling,” Lady Welsford entered the room theatrically, a bright smile on her face.

Lillian turned away from Timothy and hastily removed her elbow from the table before her mother saw it. But she did not appear to notice anything, especially not the guilty expression on Lillian’s face, or the annoyed expression on Timothy’s.

“Mother, you are in a cheerful mood this morning,” Timothy said as he rose to his feet.

“I am indeed. There is a gentleman caller for you this morning, Lillian.”

Lillian’s shoulders tensed and she gazed at her mother.

“Who is it, Mother?”

“Lord Bertram,” Lady Welsford beamed and clasped her hands together. “Isn’t that delightful?”

“Very much so, Mother.”

“Come along then, Lillian. Let us not keep the gentleman waiting.”

Lillian bit her lower lip and sighed. She rose from the table and smoothed the skirt of her pale green day dress.

“Let us not.”

Lillian followed her mother into the drawing room, and the memory of the Duke flashed before her. The Duke was incredibly handsome, and yesterday he had been dressed in formal attire with an air of sophistication surrounding him. His dark brown hair had been meticulously styled and Lillian’s skin tingled from the memory.

As she stepped inside, Lord Bertram turned from where he stood at the window.

“Lady Lillian,” he beamed, his eyes intently focused on her.

“My Lord, how lovely it is to see you.”

“You look radiant this morning, I must say. “

Lillian nodded tightly, forcing a smile.

“You are too kind, my Lord. Shall we sit?”

Lord Bertram motioned to the sofa, and they sat on opposite ends. Lady Welsford lingered in the background, and Lillian was rather grateful. She did not wish to be alone with Lord Bertram, especially since Timothy knew something about him that he did not want to disclose to Lillian.

“I brought you a gift, Lady Lillian.”

“You did not need to do that, my Lord, Indeed, that is a little… presumptuous of you…” she insisted.

Behind her, she heard a small rustle which indicated that her mother had just stiffened, not entirely happy that Lord Bertram had done something that wasn’t quite proper.

“I wanted to, Lady Lillian. When I saw it, I knew that I had to get it for you.”

Much to Lillian’s surprise, Lord Bertram revealed a small wooden carved box and handed it to her. It was not very heavy, and Lillian’s curiosity was too much to contain. She lifted the lid and stared at a lovely brooch of a dragonfly, with a green gemstone set in the center of its body.

She gasped softly and lightly fingered the delicate brooch.

“It is beautiful. I have never seen anything like it. Thank you, my Lord. But what prompted this gift?”

“When your mother invited me to Welsford House, I was relieved, and delighted of course. I did not think that I would ever have the opportunity to call upon you, Lady Lillian.”

“My mother speaks of you a lot, so it does not surprise me that she invited you, my Lord,” Lillian pointed out.

“That is certainly a relief to hear. She appears to be more fond of me than your brother is.”

“I do not understand it either. Were you and Timothy not at Oxford together?” Lillian asked. “I asked him, and it seems that he does not wish to give me a straight answer. I do not know why.”

“Simply because we attended the same university does not make us friends. Perhaps your brother is protective of his sister, and only wishes the best for you.”

“I am not certain of anything any longer,” Lillian said and gazed at the brooch. “Thank you for the lovely gift, my Lord. It is truly beautiful.”

“Not nearly as beautiful as you, Lady Lillian.”

Lillian lowered her gaze shyly and her cheek colored. It was not every day that she was called beautiful by a prospective suitor, much less one sitting on the other side of the sofa with her.

“You are too kind with your words.”

“Lady Lillian, I believe that Lady Montague is hosting a festive ball the evening after tomorrow. If you and your family are planning to attend, I would like to reserve a spot, or even two, on your dance card, if that pleases you, my Lady.”

“That would be delightful. I do enjoy dancing,” Lillian nodded.

“Wonderful. I look forward to it.”

Lillian smiled at the lovely gift Lord Bertram had given her and shifted her gaze to him. His light brown hair was swept back away from his face, and the stubble on his cheeks and chin was barely there, and very neatly groomed. He was impeccably dressed in his daywear; his coattails and breeches were the same shade of dark grey. His crisp white shirt and cravat perfectly contrasted with the emerald-green gem in his cravat pin and complimented his skin tone.

She was not certain why Timothy did not approve of him, as he seemed to be a decent man with wealth almost as vast as her own family’s. He spoke to her in a kind voice, and he was a rather attractive man.

But much to Lillian’s dismay, she realized that she felt nothing in his presence. He was not the Duke.

Nor would he ever be.