Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

“ T imothy, I do not even know what to say.”

Lillian was on her way to the drawing room, clutching a new book that her father had gifted to her when she overheard her mother hissing those words. She stopped abruptly in her tracks and pursed her lips. The sound came from inside the study, and the door was only slightly ajar. Not enough for Lillian to see inside, but she could hear the conversation well enough.

Timothy had invited a guest to dinner that evening, as he had announced a few days earlier, and clearly, Lady Welsford was not pleased about it. She had been in a foul mood ever since she’d been told of it. It started to make sense to Lillian now as she listened. She came to the conclusion that this irritated mood was the reason her mother had been so incredibly rude to the gentleman outside the modiste.

“When you informed me that you had invited a guest for dinner, and to spend Christmas with us, I never dreamed that it would be him.”

“But Mother, why on earth should it matter? He is a good friend and, since his mother passed away, he does not have any family left.”

“I am certain it is not such a tragedy as you make it out to be, my darling,” Lord Welsford pointed out.

“Indeed it is. What if people were to find out that he is here? What would that do to our reputation?”

“Mother, you are exaggerating.”

“I most certainly am not. That man-”

“That man is my friend, and I will not allow you to speak of him in such a manner.”

Lillian’s brow furrowed and she stood closer to the door. Were they speaking of the Duke of Yarmouth? Had Timothy invited the Duke of Yarmouth to their family dinner?

“Have you read what was written about him? He gambled away his fortune, which now has him in financial ruin, not even to mention the haunts that he frequents. I will not allow anyone to disgrace this family. We certainly do not need a scandal on our hands.”

“Mother-”

“Is it not enough that neither you nor your sister are yet married, and I am still without a grandchild? Must you torture me by bringing into my home a man who does not have even a shred of decency in his body?”

Lillian’s brow furrowed and she stepped away angrily. She knew that her mother was upset that she had not found a husband yet, but Lillian had not realized that her mother was ashamed of this. It shocked her that her mother was disappointed and felt ashamed that her adult children had not married. That was the very first time that Lillian had heard her express any anger and shame towards Timothy about not being married yet. She had always felt that her mother placed pressure upon her to marry, and not on Timothy. But it seemed that their mother was equally ashamed of both of her children.

Not wishing to upset herself any further, Lillian stepped away from the door of the study and quietly made her way downstairs. The drawing room had always been her favorite room to unwind and clear her head. Since it was a quiet room as well, she did most of her reading there. In contrast, it was also the place where she met countless callers who expressed an interest in courting her. Although she had not received a single proposal from those suitors who had called, she realized that perhaps it was time to set her pride aside and give such things a chance.

Perhaps Lord Bertram was not as bad a choice for a husband as she thought. He was certainly a handsome gentleman, with deep brown eyes and a quirky smile which gave Lillian rather mixed feelings. He was well-spoken and had impeccable manners. But he did not make her skin tingle or cause her heart to race as the gentleman in front of the modiste had.

Lillian had to accept that, quite possibly, no other man would have such an effect on her.

If only she knew his name.

But what use would it be? After the way that her mother had glared at the man, he had most certainly been instantly put off by her behavior, and would not make any attempt to find out who she was.

Lillian sighed as she stepped into the drawing room, and found her usual reading spot waiting for her. It was a chaise placed in a secluded corner, hidden away from initial sight. She sat on the chaise, made herself comfortable, and began to read. She soon became so immersed in the pages of her new book that she did not even notice the footsteps approaching the drawing room. Or the person who entered.

“Oh, pardon me. I was not aware that someone was here,” he apologized.

Lillian instantly recognized the baritone voice, and her head snapped up. She gasped quite loudly and rose to her feet. Placing her book down on the chaise, she subtly tidied her hair. She could not believe her eyes and blinked numerous times to ensure that she was not seeing things that were not there.

The gentleman was equally stunned as he stared at her. The same hazel eyes that pierced her being and made her heart race were now looking at her with both shock and relief.

“It is you,” he uttered, his voice as smooth and luxurious as velvet.

“Me? I mean, indeed. And it is you, my savior from outside the modiste’s.”

“I would hardly refer to myself in such a way. I simply did what any gentleman would do for a beautiful young lady in distress.”

“You think that I am beautiful?” she asked, unable to contain herself.

“Strikingly so.”

Lillian gasped softly and subtly smoothed out the folds of her pale blue dress. It was one of her favorites, with matching lace trim wrapped around the bodice and the long sleeves.

“How did you find me?” she asked.

“I can ask you the same question.”

“I did not find you. I live here.”

The gentleman’s eyes widened in shock, and he glanced around the room. “You live here ? In this very house?”

Lillian cocked her head and stared at him in confusion.

“Indeed. You appear surprised.”

“I am. I did not expect to see you here. You are Lord Timothy Colborne’s sister?”

“I am. How did you know?”

“I have known your brother since our days at Oxford. He is a very good friend of mine.”

Lillian’s eyes widened once more, and she stared at him in disbelief.

Never in her life could she have expected that the handsome young man who had come to her aid would be the same man who had been friends with her brother at Oxford. Why had she not heard of him, or seen him, before?

Timothy had attended Oxford over seven years ago, and not once had she been introduced to, or seen, his very close friend.

And why would her mother be so unkind and upset over his presence?

Lillian was rather confused by this and felt as if she did not understand anything anymore. Perhaps she should mind her own business, and stop eavesdropping on her mother’s conversations.

But how else would she know what went on between the walls of Welsford House? Her mother did not allow her to speak freely, nor did she ever engage Lillian in the adult conversations between her mother and father. It was as though her mother shielded her from everything that was not rose-colored and proper.

Frankly, Lillian was fed up with not being included in anything important - she was not included in decision-making, or choosing who would be a suitable husband for her.

“I apologize. I was not aware of this.”

The gentleman stepped closer to her, and immediately, her heart pounded in her chest, and she felt her cheeks flush. His gaze grew intense, his eyes darkening, and his jaw eased. He was much taller than she was, his shoulders broad, and his intoxicating scent filled her nostrils. It reminded her of how she’d felt when he caught her, his strong arms wrapped around her waist, shielding her from hitting the ground in front of her.

She no longer felt embarrassed but was disappointed in herself that she had not asked for his name that day. If she’d known who he was, she would have tracked him down much sooner. Perhaps she would have spoken to her mother about this gentleman and persuaded her that, out of all the suitors she had met, he was the one she wanted.

If he wanted to have her, of course, but the intensity of his gaze already proved that he did. At least she thought so.

“I wish to thank you for what you did for me. I was certain that I would die of embarrassment and never be able to show my face around town again if I had fallen. If it were not for you, I probably would have.”

“And that would be a terrible fate indeed.”

Lillian was on the verge of swooning over the gentleman and his smooth words that caressed her soul in all the right ways.

“And I must apologize for my mother’s behavior. How she spoke to you was unacceptable. She is rather adamant in her pursuit of finding a suitor for me, and is extremely careful about my reputation.”

“There is no need for you to apologize on her behalf. I am certain that she had her reasons. I will not hold it against her, or you.” The gentleman shifted his weight and stared intently at Lillian. “And why is it that your mother wishes you to be married as soon as possible?”

Lillian tensed at his question.

“I’d rather not answer that.”

As he was on the verge of responding, footsteps were heard in the hallway, growing louder by the second.

“Apologies for the wait, Yarmouth. I had to straighten out a misunderstanding…”

Timothy’s voice trailed off as he entered the drawing room. He stopped abruptly as he noticed that Lillian was also present in the room. Under normal circumstances, it was not proper for a young, unmarried woman to be in the presence of a gentleman without a chaperone, but it was Lillian’s home as well, and perhaps it could be overlooked – although really, she should have left the room the moment that he’d entered it, for propriety’s sake.

“Ah, I see that you two have already met,” Timothy said slowly.

Lillian immediately took a step back, as did the handsome gentleman, but it now felt as if he was much too far away from Lillian, much to her dismay.

“Indeed we have. I was not aware that you had such a beautiful sister, Colborne.”

“Of course. It goes without saying that she’s beautiful - simply take a look at my mother,” Timothy grinned as Lady and Lord Welsford also entered the drawing room.

Lillian would have grown shy and her cheeks colored, but as she turned her attention to her mother, she was distracted by how pale her mother looked.

Her mother’s eyes were narrowed, her lips pursed into a thin line and her shoulders were tense. She wore what could only be described as an expression of contempt and disdain as she glared at the gentleman in the drawing room.

“We have not been formally introduced yet, brother,” Lillian pointed out to her brother.

A brilliant, yet somewhat tense smile appeared on her brother’s face, his eyes sparkling with delight.

“Yarmouth, this is my lovely sister, Lady Lillian Colborne.”

Lillian smiled at him with a nod.

“Sister, may I introduce my good friend, His Grace, the Duke of Yarmouth.”

Lillian’s smile immediately disappeared and was replaced by a look of shock and surprise, followed by a gasp. She had not expected that the man who had gallantly rescued her would turn out to be the Duke of Yarmouth. He was the very man who she’d heard the two ladies speak of at the modiste. But how could that be true?

How could that delightfully polite and charming man be the same man who was said to have gambled away his fortune and who kept the company of women of easy virtue?

That was simply not possible. She could not believe it of him.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Lillian.”

“And you, Your Grace.”

Lillian smoothed her dress and glanced at her mother, who was still speechless. The color had returned to her face, and it was more prominent now than ever. It was quiet in the drawing room for what felt like an eternity until Lady Welsford cleared her throat and turned to Lord Welsford.

“If the ton were to hear of this-”

“That is quite enough, my dear,” Lord Welsford interjected. “Now, shall we all go to the dining room? Dinner is served.”

Lillian pursed her lips and, as they left the drawing room, she could not help but notice the Duke’s gaze on her as she walked past him to the dining room.