Chapter Eleven

Regret

1824

They rode the next mile or two in complete silence, neither really knowing what to say now.

What’s done was done.

Lilly watched outside as trees and pastures flew by the window, disappearing frame by frame. She had no idea how far they had travelled since Michael’s revelation. It was almost as though she were in shock.

“When I was twelve”—Lilly finally broke the silence—“my father took our family for a holiday. We were to stay with his sister who lived in a village near the sea.

“I remember as we rolled into the village thinking it looked like a painting. The homes were surrounded by perfect whitewashed fences, and flowers were lined up neatly beside them. A garden bloomed in front of every cottage.

“In the center of the village, the stores were built very closely together, and there were wooden sidewalks so one could visit the shops without having to step in the mud. It was the prettiest village. I decided it was where I wanted to live when I grew up.”

Michael had turned on the bench. He watched her closely as she spoke.

“It was the most beautiful place in the world, I had decided.” She grimaced. “Our first night there, we were awakened in the night. Father threw on his clothing and boots and ran out the door, my mother imploring him to be careful. Outside of the window, not very far away at all, the village was engulfed in flames.”

She fell silent for a moment, remembering.

“Father didn’t return until very early the next morning. He was covered in soot. The air smelled of smoke even though the fire had burnt itself out.

“We stayed at my aunt’s home for a few days after that, my mother and father helping his sister’s friends, comforting some who had lost their businesses or homes. Finally, my father allowed me to walk with him, back out into the streets of what had once been the village.

“There was nothing there. What had once been white and pure had become filthy charcoal and black mud. All that was left was the view by the sea.

“I remember asking my father where the people would live. They had no homes, no clothing, no businesses left to earn their living. Their very existence had burnt to the ground.”

Michael tilted his head, encouraging her to continue.

Lilly took a deep breath and said, “I feel rather the same today as I did then…Something that was once beautiful has been destroyed, and there is nothing anyone can do about it.”

She felt Michael’s eyes upon her as she looked back toward the passing scenery and wondered if he felt the same. They’d lived nearly a decade apart from one another. She had had a husband. Another man had taken the privileges Michael had thought were to be exclusively his.

And now she was a widow.

“Did the village rebuild?” he asked, “or did they begin new lives somewhere else?”

Lilly remembered watching the remains of the village grow smaller and finally disappearing when they drove away. “I don’t know. Some of both I imagine.”

“What was the name of the village?” Michael asked.

Searching her mind, she pondered aloud, “I think it was Pelican Point, or Pelican Perch, something like that. We never returned. My aunt moved to live with a dear friend farther north shortly after.”

They rode in silence again. And then he surprised her.

“I thought about torching Summers Park,” Michael volunteered. “After the fever,” he clarified. “I wanted to burn everything the disease had touched.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“It’s a magnificent structure, actually. It’s endured for hundreds of years. Who was I to destroy it?” He paused. “Too much history there. It is a beautiful place—structurally sound, very well built. No reason to demolish it because of a few bad memories.”

Bad memories.

He’d experienced tragedy and horror in that time.

Glenda startled them both by speaking up just then. Apparently, she had been listening. “I had this dress once—most beautiful dress in the world. Pearls along the bodice, lace trim around the hemline, and I had embroidered tiny white stars throughout the entire skirt. Then that Nathan Plumery spilt wine down the front of it at the harvest celebration. Do you remember that, Lilly? Mary never could get that stain out. Had to give the thing to Mary’s sister. Now that,” she finished grandly with a sigh, “was a tragedy.”

Ironically, Michael and Lilly both looked at each and smiled faintly. Lilly resisted the urge to lean into him and take comfort in his arms.

They traveled until it was nearly dark, and everyone was relieved when they pulled into a coaching inn for the night. Lilly wished she could find somewhere to be alone but would not, of course.

They had made very good time, however, and if tomorrow went accordingly, they should arrive in London on schedule, just before dusk. And then she could say goodbye to Michael once and for all.

****

A less than enthusiastic quartet climbed wearily into the travelling coach early the following morning. The previous night they’d taken their meals upstairs and then gone right to bed.

Which had been fine with Lilly.

She’d spent too much time in his company already. His fine eyes, his strong presence, and his charismatic laughter served only to mock her now. Mock her cowardice. Mock her stupidity.

Mock her life.

As they pulled onto the road, Lilly drew out a book and donned her spectacles. She couldn’t afford to dwell on the revelations of yesterday. If she did that, she’d be swallowed up by bouts of self-pity in no time. She had already done enough of that in her life.

After reading several pages, however, and not comprehending any of it, Lilly surrendered to her traitorous mind.

What was Michael thinking today? Did he have any leftover feelings for her?

She had believed when she’d given him her body, it had been something sacred. Did he remember it that way as well?

He hadn’t married in all this time. Surely not for lack of opportunity. At one-and-twenty Michael had been heart-stoppingly handsome. Now, at thirty, he was devastatingly attractive and a duke to boot. His features were still just as striking, but his face now somewhat chiseled, the line of his jaw more defined, his beard coarse. He was sinewy, hardened by work or exercise. And his eyes, those beautiful eyes of his, held wisdom and more than a little cynicism. Her dear Michael was now every inch the aristocrat.

Surely, he’d had mistresses? Likely, many of them since he’d remained unmarried. Or maybe one special lady…? This thought hurt more than contemplating the former.

Stop it, Lilly! She chastised herself for even contemplating such unproductive thoughts. She would never know. By now, he’d experienced a lifetime of living in which she’d never been a part. She had no place in his future either.

“Do you think, Your Grace”—yes, that’s what she must call him; he was no longer her Michael—“the highwaymen who attacked you were politically motivated?” Her question came out of the blue. She must think about something else. The mystery of the hijacking suited perfectly. “They very nearly succeeded in delaying your arrival in London and got away with all of those documents. That could have been their purpose, all along.”

“A little drastic, don’t you think?” He raised one skeptical eyebrow.

“More drastic measures have been taken for less, I’m sure. One never knows. Were the documents really so very important?”

Michael had considered this possibility. “I’d arranged to present them to other members. I’ve gathered compelling evidence that could possibly sway a few to change their votes. Those few votes could make all the difference in the world. If I cannot show them our evidence, though, our arguments are considerably less convincing. And without those votes, the amendment will fail.”

“Can you think of any political enemies who oppose you strongly enough to take such action?”

Michael could almost laugh at that. “It could be anyone on either side of the issue. As a duke, I am required to live by the laws. And as we’ve discussed, the Corn Laws bring hardship to the poor. But as a member of Parliament, one who opposes the laws, I’ve already angered many who believe they are the answer to all of England’s economic woes.”

“But has anyone in particular threatened you? Has any person given you misgivings as of late?”

Michael had a few such gentlemen in mind. Normally, he would never speak of such things with a lady, but this was Lilly, and she obviously had some awareness of political issues. His mind taunted him with the notion that she’d discussed intellectual matters with her husband.

She was no longer the naïve and innocent girl he’d once known.

And now she wanted to help him. Good Lord! She was attempting to deduce who had held up his carriage.

“The Earl of Hawthorn has sent me several letters imploring me to reconsider my position. At first, they were cordial, but his later missives have carried some venom.” He’d suspected Hawthorn the moment he’d stepped out of the carriage at gunpoint.

“Have they included any threats?” she asked.

“Not that I remember.”

“Where does the earl reside when he is not in London?”

“His home, Maple Hall, is just south of Reading.”

Lilly raised both her brows upon hearing this. They were to pass through Reading within a matter of hours. “Wouldn’t you like to peek into his coach house to see if, by chance, your carriage is housed there? Perhaps you could recover your papers!”

“Would Hawthorn be idiotic enough to keep evidence of the crime on his own property? Would he implicate himself so blatantly?” Michael was skeptical. It was too easy.

“You tell me. I do not know the man. Would he?”

The idea of investigating, possibly recovering his property, tempted him. Unfortunately, he no longer travelled alone. There were three women, two men, one small dog, and their boatload of luggage to consider. Still, though, he ought to take advantage of their proximity to the earl’s estate.

“I could hire a mount at the next inn.” How could he not at least take a look? “Your idea has merit.”

“You’ll need assistance. I can come along and be your lookout.” Lilly offered her services brazenly. Both Mary and Glenda looked at her as though she’d suddenly sprouted wings.

Before the words were even out of her mouth, Michael was shaking his head. “Absolutely not.” His tone forbade contradictions.

Best to cut ties with Lilly now, before she crawled any further under his skin. As it was, he already felt a renewed connection with her, and notions leading in that direction were impossible. He didn’t blame her any longer. At least he didn’t think he did. Blaming himself wasn’t useful either.

He would part company with them in Reading.

He’d spent months berating himself for not getting word to her despite the quarantine. For all intents and purposes, circumstances made it look as though he’d abandoned her. He’d taken her innocence and then not contacted her for nearly a month. Had there been repercussions from the night under the waterfall?

There had not been.

Michael had, in fact, made certain to discover this for himself. When informed that the Baroness Beauchamp was most definitely not with child, he had been greatly relieved.

He’d also been irrationally disappointed.

Lilly was his past. Lady Natalie was his future.

****

With his luck changing, Michael acquired a respectable mount when they arrived at the Reading posting inn. He gave strict instructions for Arty to see the women to their lodgings in London and to be certain of their welfare before taking leave of them. The women had gone into the inn for lunch and to freshen up.

He would say goodbye to Lilly with Glenda and the maid looking on. It would be for the best.

Handing the mare off to Arty, Michael turned to go in search of the private dining parlor where they would be eating.

Except, that would not be necessary.

A flash of Miss Fussy out of the corner of his eyes, alerted him that Lillie had remained outside. She would care more about exercising her pup than dining in leisure. She played with the dog, unaware he was looking on.

This time, he would tell her goodbye. There must have been smoke in the air nearby, for his eyes burned as he memorized her features.

When he arrived at her side, he didn’t speak right away. A breeze carried a hint of her perfume in his direction. It was the same: hyacinth and citrus. Warm and delicate—like Lilly. A lump formed in his throat.

“My outrider will continue with your party.” He spoke rather stiffly. He didn’t look directly at her.

Lilly nodded, understanding his discomfort. She’d given him her body, once, but that was ancient history. He owed her nothing now. The promises they’d made to one another were null and void. They had been for years. It was best that they part.

The fool! He planned on travelling to the Earl of Hawthorn’s estate alone!

“That’s fine. Thank you, Your Grace.” She thought he should take somebody along with him but didn’t want to feel the sting of his rejection again. So, she simply responded evenly.

But she had other ideas…

“I do appreciate all you have done for me. You did not have to offer me conveyance along with your party. Your assistance has been invaluable.” His voice was distant, that of a stranger almost.

“My pleasure,” she said, “Your Grace.” She didn’t mean to sound petulant. She wanted to be able to think they could remain friends, but that was impossible. There was too much sentiment left between them, for her anyway—to many memories for her to be friendly and cordial.

As strong as she thought she had become over the past years, she would rather not watch him marry another woman. She was not a glutton for punishment.

She turned toward him and attempted a smile. “I do wish you luck in everything. I hope you recover your documents so you can pass your amendment, and I—well, I wish you happiness in your marriage.” She could say no more lest she make a fool of herself and allow her tears to come. She bent down and clapped her hands. “Come now, Miss Fussy. Come to Mummy!”

The dog ignored her for a moment and then ran and jumped into her arms. Her legs shook as she rose to stand. She could not go back into the inn and make conversation with Glenda and Mary. Hopefully, they were nearly ready to depart.

Michael bowed toward her. “Goodbye, Lilly.” No regret in his voice, only a steely determination to be on his way. This was worse than she could have imagined.

Lilly nodded in his direction and then turned with her dog to climb into the carriage. She wished the carriage could whisk her away from him, leaving clouds of dust in their wake.

But wishes were just that. Wishes.

And her dignified exit was eclipsed by the fact that she had to sit in an unmoving carriage awaiting the arrival of the other occupants.

In the end, it was she who watched Michael mount his horse and ride away from her.