Chapter Twenty-One

Temptation

What with the work Michael was attempting to accomplish in Parliament, he had little time to visit his fiancée.

Furthermore, he lacked much desire to do so.

But it was expected of him. Her father expected it. Her mother expected it. Hell, all of society expected it.

And Lady Natalie was a lovely girl. She’d done nothing to put him off. In fact, he’d realized she wasn’t nearly as empty-headed and frivolous as he’d feared.

No, it was nothing she’d done.

So, when she requested he attend a picnic she’d scheduled with her brother and Miss Glenda Beauchamp, he felt duty bound to accept. He set aside an entire day, rearranging meetings and appointments so he could participate.

She had failed to inform him, however, that Danbury and Lilly would be attending as well.

Seeing Lilly in society, even from a distance, had been difficult. She stirred a restlessness inside of him. And something else—something he was reluctant to identify.

But he was an engaged man. Contracts had been signed, and it went without saying he would dance attendance upon Lady Natalie. He was a grown man—a duke, for God’s sake. He would be pleasant and sociable. He could control his urges for a few hours.

Nonetheless, upon arriving at Lady Eleanor’s townhome in the Earl of Ravensdale’s newest open carriage with Lady Natalie, her brother, and Danbury, Michael looked to the sky hoping for rain.

Not a cloud in sight. In fact, the morning air promised to turn unseasonably warm as the day progressed.

Planned to take place at one of Ravensdale’s smaller properties, the picnic would be held a little over ten miles outside of London. The earl had told Michael he would be doing him a favor by inspecting the general condition of the estate. He also told him he was pleased to hear of the excursion.

Although modern and expensive, the carriage wasn’t quite large enough to seat three gentlemen wide, which placed Michael snugly between Lady Natalie and Lilly. Facing him was Glenda, who had Mr. Joseph Ravensdale on one side of her and Danbury on the other. They were to ride thusly for over ten miles…good God!

His left side, cozily packed next to Lilly, sizzled with awareness. On his right side, where his fiancée pressed against him, he felt…nothing. Between the two ladies as he was, Michael sat buried in sweetly scented petticoats and skirts.

Danbury’s eyes gleamed with laughter as he observed his friend’s predicament, but Michael merely shook his head. And then nearly laughed himself.

For Miss Beauchamp chose that moment to open her parasol and nearly took out Danbury’s left eye. Completely oblivious to the viscount, she placed it upon her shoulder and turned to address Mr. Spencer. “I daresay…” She paused. “Joseph…” A blush crept up her neck, turning her ivory skin a delicate pink. “This phaeton is marvelous! It was so thoughtful of your father to suggest it instead of a closed coach. It’s such a beautiful day!”

“A bit cramped for six people,” Danbury muttered.

The younger couple ignored him.

Joseph Spencer seemed to appreciate Miss Bridge’s tantalizing blush when she’d spoken his name. “Simply beautiful.” He returned her adoring gaze. Mr. Spencer then shifted nonchalantly and placed his arm possessively along the back of the bench, draping it casually on Miss Beauchamp’s person, somewhat hidden by the parasol.

Danbury rolled his eyes.

Lilly failed to notice the untoward act. And as the official chaperone, she was the obvious person to demand Spencer remove his arm.

Nobody made any mention of it.

Lady Natalie then opened her parasol but rested it on the open side of the carriage. If she decided to place it upon her other shoulder, Cortland’s eyes would be at risk as well.

“I think, perhaps, ladies carry stealthier weapons than our outriders, Cortland.” Danbury mockingly glanced at the parasols. “They cover it in lace and pretend it is a part of their wardrobe, but at a moment’s notice, they can whip it open and unhand the burliest of ruffians.”

Lady Natalie smiled prettily at the viscount. “The ruffians are not nearly such a menace as the rakes who disguise themselves as gentleman.”

“So a man must be either one or the other?” Danbury asked, raising one eyebrow.

“But of course. Consider my fiancé, His Grace. He is always a gentleman.” She placed her hand on Michael’s arm. “I have never had any cause for concern because he has always acted, and always will act, with the most honorable intentions. For that, I am an extremely lucky lady.”

Danbury laughed heartily at this, causing Lady Natalie to pout. “What is so funny?”

Michael glared at Danbury. “Nothing, nothing at all,” he reassured her. “Lord Danbury simply has something of a questionable sense of humor.”

But inside, Michael agreed with the irony of Lady Natalie’s declaration, if not the humor of it. While his fiancée sat daintily on his right side, his left hand ached to hold the hand of the lady on his left. Lilly’s tiny hands were folded politely in her lap. He felt her shiver slightly.

“Are you cold, my lady?” Michael asked her.

Lilly glanced around at the other passengers. “The wind is still a bit brisk. I imagine as the sun climbs higher I will be fine.”

Michael leaned forward and removed his jacket with as much dignity as one could while smashed into a carriage, holding six, that likely was intended to hold only four.

Not giving Lilly a chance to protest, he draped it over her shoulders. At first hesitant, she touched the lapels as though uncertain as to whether she ought to accept his gesture. But then a cool gust of wind blew down the narrow street.

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

Michael was satisfied to see her burrow into it snugly.

“You see.” Lady Natalie spoke pointedly to Danbury. “Always the gentleman!”

“Was he a gentleman when you knew him before, Lilly?” The young Miss Beauchamp had been paying attention to the conversation after all.

Upon her words, Michael felt Lilly sit up straight again.

But before she could speak, his fiancée turned to look at them both. “The two of you have a prior acquaintance?” Her eyebrows rose. She did not look angry, merely intrigued.

“Years ago.” Lilly’s answer was vague, obviously wishing to downplay the connection.

But Miss Beauchamp was not so cooperative…rather somewhat gauche, instead. “The duke was her beau.”

“Glenda!” Lilly admonished her stepdaughter. And then to Lady Natalie. “His Grace and I were friends. It was a very long time ago. Heavens! I was barely Glenda’s age.”

Lady Natalie tilted her head to one side, and her eyes narrowed slightly. Most definitely not as empty-headed as he’d thought.

“He courted her before he was the duke,” Miss Beauchamp supplied.

“I’d just returned from the war.” Michael could not help but remember. It had been the most tumultuous year of his life.

“He was not a rake.” Lilly surprised him with her statement. “He was a gentleman, even then.” Upon her words, he felt a stabbing sensation somewhere near his heart. He’d acted most dishonorably.

He could not help but meet her eyes. She was being sincere. She was not mocking him, nor speaking sarcastically.

“I’ll bet the viscount wasn’t such a gentleman back then!” Lady Natalie laughed. Danbury took no issue with such a declaration.

“Of course I wasn’t, my lady. Whyever would I want to be?”

****

Lilly did not participate in the remainder of the conversation, which mostly consisted of Danbury and Lady Natalie bantering between each other over who of the ton were and weren’t either gentlemen or rakes. They both finally agreed that Viscount Castleton was worse than even Danbury. He must be! He was the Earl of Hawthorn’s son and heir.

Lilly allowed their conversation to drift over her as she relished the warmth of Michael’s jacket. Michael had never smelled strongly of any cologne, so a person could only know his scent if she was close to him. Feeling herself a pathetic fool, she inhaled the distinct scent that was him—cleanliness, sandalwood, and the outdoors. She savored it. She savored his closeness. Snuggling deeper into the jacked, Lilly closed her eyes. She would only rest for a moment. Lulled and relaxed, it felt as though hardly any time had passed at all when the carriage slowed. Lilly roused herself as the driver turned, taking them up a long and elegant drive. This must be London Hills, the Earl of Ravensdale’s estate.

Glenda could not and did not contain herself from gasping charmingly as they passed the lake and home that came into view.

Encircled by lush greenery, tucked under an assortment of lofty trees, the three-story house was fashioned of limestone the color of butter. The manor was built on a rise, surely providing magnificent views in all directions. Southerly facing, the perfectly placed windows and arbors reflected unfettered sunlight. Lilly caught glimpses of whimsical statues of various types of birds positioned between a few charmingly situated walking paths. One path led to a lily pond with the statue of a youthful boy with his hand aloft, a small bird perched upon his wrist.

The grounds appeared to be in pristine condition. “I thought your father said he hadn’t done much with this estate and needed us to itemize maintenance issues.” Michael spoke to Lady Natalie. “But at first glance, it looks to be in perfect repair. And it certainly isn’t ‘small.’ ”

Lady Natalie had a smug look on her face. “The property consists of just over eighteen acres. It passes through the women on my mother’s side of the family. My mother’s older sister did not have any girls. She passed away a few years ago, and it has been put in trust for me along with annual funds for upkeep.” She turned to point out to Michael. “It’s listed in the contracts.”

Good heavens! Lilly thought, this property was part of Lady Natalie’s dowry.

“It’s a beautiful estate, my lady.” Glenda looked to be in awe and perhaps a tad covetous.

The carriage pulled to a stop in front of the semicircular steps extending out and down from the grand entry. Barely waiting for it to halt, Michael climbed out to assist the ladies down from the vehicle. Lady Natalie then led them inside and directed Lilly and Glenda toward a retiring room so they could freshen up after the long ride.

When everyone met back in the front reception hall, Lady Natalie proudly offered them a tour. Leading the way, she took Lilly’s arm while Cortland and Danbury followed. Glenda and Mr. Spencer dallied behind.

“Oh, Lilly, I am so very glad you came today. I especially wanted to show you one of my favorite places in the entire world!”

Lilly smiled and regarded her surroundings in admiration. “I can imagine! Do you think you and the duke will live here for part of the year after your marriage?”

“I don’t know…I hope so.” Lady Natalie sighed, and they both took several more steps before she spoke again. “Did you have many doubts before your marriage? You mentioned once that your father pressed you into accepting your husband’s suit.”

Lilly’s breath caught. How did one answer such a question? Lady Natalie ought to be a lovely friend and confidante, but Lilly’s previous relationship with Michael made this nearly impossible.

Perhaps she could speak with some honesty though. “I did not wish to marry the baron. I did so entirely to please my father.”

“Did you not like the baron?”

This required some thought. She most definitely could not tell Lady Natalie about Rose—about the nature of her marriage to the baron. But she was sympathetic and also a little concerned at the girl’s lack of enthusiasm to marry.

Which was ironic, indeed.

So, she would say what she could. “I respected him and accepted him as a member of our…of society. I did not know him very well.”

Lady Natalie had more questions. Lilly suspected she was seeking some sort of encouragement. The younger woman would be looking for reassurance that arranged marriages could be comfortable and loving.

“Sometimes,” Lady Natalie admitted, “I feel as though I do not really know Cortland. He is so distant…so formal with me. He is very pleasant and kind. I think he is a good man, but I am becoming less certain…about other things.”

Oh, this wasn’t fair!

Although it was a common notion, Lilly abhorred the notion of marrying for convenience’s sake! Would she be wrong to relay her feelings to this young girl? Would she be even more wrong to withhold it? Lilly had escaped her own horrible marriage by sheer luck.

Of course, Lady Natalie was betrothed to a man who was the antithesis of the man Lilly had married.

But if Natalie did not think she could love him, should she not be given the idea that she ought to speak up now, rather than later?

“My lady, Natalie, I feel it is my place here to tell you, although I think you and the duke are a good match, if you have serious misgivings you ought to speak with your mother or father. You have told me they are good parents. Surely, they will take your opinion into close consideration.” The women walked in silence as they neared the end of the corridor.

Lilly then felt compelled to extend a word of caution. “It is just…marriage is lifelong. It is forever—or until death, anyhow.” Lilly grimaced to herself before continuing. “In time, I think you may very well come to love Cortland, but if you cannot fathom this…Well, are you prepared to live in a marriage that is platonic?” Upon these words, she forced herself to stop speaking. She must not allow her personal feelings for Michael to have any considerations in the advice she gave.

Lady Natalie sighed heavily. “I do like Cortland. The same, unfortunately, as I like all of my brothers. And sometimes…” She looked away. “Sometimes, I just want more.”

“Ah…” This, Lilly understood all too well. “Romance.”

Lady Natalie came to a halt and turned to face Lilly with an anguished look. “Yes, oh, botheration! And…and…I want passion! Is that asking too much? My father and my mother love one another. More than that; they are in love with one another! I know it exists. I often wonder, even, sometimes about…Well, there are other men in this world on whom I do not look as though they are like a brother to me.” The girl’s honesty was refreshingly forthright.

“It exists.” That is all Lilly could say. Her own heart beat much too loudly. It was impossible. This discussion was all hypothetical. There was no way Lady Natalie would break her betrothal with Michael.

Lady Natalie looked skeptically over at Lilly and nodded. “I knew it,” she said. “There is somebody in your past who was the love of your life. From the first moment I met you, I knew you were a woman with a past. There you sat, all buttoned up and quiet, but with a mysterious light in your eyes.” At the look on Lilly’s face, she quickly took Lilly’s hands in hers. “Oh, don’t be angry with me, Lilly. It’s just, when I first met you, I knew you would be a special person to know. I thought, this lady seems like she would be a very good friend.” And then she laughed at herself. “What must you think of me?”

Lilly swallowed hard.

“I think that you are a very special person to know as well. And,” she added, “I think you are a very good friend to have.” They both laughed, albeit self-consciously, and continued the tour.

Being such an enormous structure, the house required over an hour to view only some of the bedrooms, the drawing room, sitting rooms, ballroom, dining room, library, and kitchen. By the time they finished, the three couples were quite ready to return outside to the picnic which had been laid out by the quietly efficient staff.

Near the shore of the lake, blankets and pillows spread out on the ground with trays, plates, and glasses set for a meal which by no means resembled the basket of bread, cheese, and fruit Lilly had imagined. The ladies, quite picturesque as they delicately sat on the ground, doled out the delicacies provided. The bottles of wine ensured that conversation was lively and unstilted. And then finally, upon partaking of the culinary delights provided, Lilly rose to her feet.

“I’ve been dying to follow the walking path around the lake and see some of the gardens. Would anybody care to join me?” She addressed her invitation toward Danbury. He was charming. He could be quite diverting. He was safe.

He also appeared to be fast asleep.

Lady Natalie reclined upon the blanket and closed her eyes lazily. “I’m not moving a muscle, Lilly. Cortland, you will escort her, will you not?” She gave him no choice, holding her hand over her eyes to protect them from the bright sun.

Glenda and Mr. Spencer had disappeared into the house to peruse the…library.

“I’d be honored.” Michael rose to his feet. And to Natalie, “Are you sure you don’t wish to join us? It may take a while to circle the entire lake.”

Without opening her eyes, Natalie refused again. “I’ve been around it dozens of times. Take your time. I might enjoy another glass of wine.”

Lilly knew she ought to sit right back down and announce she’d changed her mind, but the thought of exploring such a picturesque trail with him was too enticing to ignore. She would keep her distance, though. They would not speak of any personal matters.

Such were her resolutions.

Before he could offer his arm, she skipped ahead, away from the safety of Lady Natalie and Hugh.

She felt Michael following. Those long even strides of his would easily keep up with her.

Stopping frequently to examine flowers and shrubs along the way, she eventually forgot her misgivings and gave in to the enjoyment of the moment. And once she began talking, she could not help but tell him of the secret gardens she had maintained at Beauchamp Manor. She also enthusiastically described her plans to redesign the landscaping behind her aunt’s town house.

Michael seemed intrigued and asked insightful questions about some of her grafting techniques. As a landowner, he said, he spent a great deal of his time thinking about planting and harvesting. He seemed to appreciate her opinions.

He also appreciated the smiles she flashed him. In fact, Michael enjoyed himself immensely. Despite his earlier discomfort, this picnic outing was proving to be a pleasant escape from the demands of the season. The gentlemen had discarded their waistcoats with the permission of the ladies, and there had been an unspoken agreement to allow some of society’s rigid rules to be ignored. It had become a day to lower inhibitions and relax among friends.

And although bittersweet, he would accept this time alone with Lilly for the gift that it was.

“This outing reminds me of when we travelled to Edgewater Heights.” Lilly spoke casually, seeming to read Michael’s mind. And then her eyes grew wide. “Not exactly, though, mind you. Certainly not the—well, not all of it!” She blushed and looked away from him.

He smiled and finally was able to take hold of her arm. He would reassure her. She could speak freely with him today. “It was idyllic, wasn’t it? Spending time with sympathetic companions, friends, not merely acquaintances of the ton.”

Their steps fell in line with one another. They walked silently for a while, enjoying the beauty around them.

Being with her, he felt a sense of lightness. His worries distanced themselves. He was not the duke, but simply a man.

“Did you have a chance to speak with your father before he passed? Was he able? Did he recognize you?” She’d known he and his father had had something of a tumultuous relationship.

“Several times he spoke to me as though I were Edward,” Michael answered her candidly. “But there were moments…I told him about you. I told him of my wish to marry.”

Lilly glanced at him sharply upon hearing this. “What did he say?”

She might rather appreciate the irony. “He told me I was too young. He told me to wait.”

She didn’t say anything at all.

But then a bark of laughter escaped her. “Oh, Michael.” And then she groaned a little and laughed some more. Her eyes glistened as she sobered. Michael wanted to touch the corner of her eye and catch the single tear that had escaped.

But Lilly turned serious once again. “Did he know about Edward? Did he know you had become the heir?”

“No.” Michael remembered. “But I realized my resentment had been idiotic. I think as youths, we naturally rebel, at times imagining the worst in our parents.”

“Oh, yes.” She agreed readily. “And how did you learn this?”

He hadn’t ever discussed this with anybody—not even Hugh. “He told me how proud he was of my military service. And he asked me about the war…he wanted to hear stories.” In dawning appreciation, he realized he’d done his best to bury his memories of those weeks of what had seemed like unending death. But he had experienced some moments of contentment with his father.

Some peace.

Michael pushed a branch away from the path so she could pass in front of him. “In all my life, I’d never had my father’s undivided attention as I did those last nights.”

Lilly glanced at him sideways, smiling. “You brought him comfort, then.”

Raising his brows, he considered her statement. “Perhaps I did.”

And then he asked about her last days with her parents. He’d known her mother, but not her father at all. She told him of the last Christmas she’d spent with them both—and after—how she’d cared for her mother, read to her all of their favorite books. Lady Eleanor had travelled over for her mother’s funeral and brought her Miss Fussy.

And then she told him of some of Miss Fussy’s antics.

They laughed together and then fell into a relaxed silence.

A cool breeze rustled the leaves above them, and silver ripples appeared on the surface of the lake.

Lilly stopped to behold the view and inhaled deeply. “Being in the city, one forgets how perfumed country air can be.”

But he had eyes for only her. “What perfume is in this air, Lilly?”

Stopping, she closed her eyes and inhaled again. “Pine, sage, grass, lavender, and…” She trailed off and then opened her eyes. For Michael had stepped within inches of her. He’d not done so consciously. But it didn’t matter.

Nothing else mattered.

“No peach blossoms?”

At that moment, he was only aware of the fragrance of her, of Lilly. Memories and emotions assaulted him. Her closeness ignited a hunger he had hoped would fade away.

She held his gaze unwavering. Neither of them would speak. The sound of a few birds could be heard in the distance, and then the rustling of leaves again, as the cool wind tilted the tall grass.

And then, oh, so tentatively, Lilly’s hand extended upwards, and she grazed her fingertips along his jaw. Michael grasped her hand, cradling it even. Turning his face and closing his eyes, he pressed a kiss inside her palm. If he didn’t breathe, time would stand still.

She wrapped her other arm around his waist and tucked her face into his chest. This moment wasn’t about passion or lust or wantonness. This was a moment to acknowledge love.

Michael embraced her fully.

Holding her was madness, insanity, but also the most natural thing in the world. Since the moment he’d heard her voice in that damned inn, his heart ought to have known it would come to this. Like the tides and the moon, they’d existed apart from one another, in different worlds. But also, like the tides and the moon, neither could escape the strength of their attraction. Michael dipped his head, not moving his hands, and kissed her temples, the corners of her eyes, her cheeks. She tipped her head back so he could find her mouth.

And once he tasted the sweetness of her lips, she parted them hungrily. Her hands were in his hair, clutching, exploring. His own boldly explored her softness.

Starved for one another, they both laid claim to what they desperately needed.