Nobody's Lady

by Annabelle Anders

  The rest of the morning Lilly listened in amusement as Michael endured the drawn-out recitation of Glenda’s embroidery progression. Ah, yes, she had won this round.

  Mary continued snoring softly.

  ****

  The party stopped around noon to change horses and enjoy a quick luncheon. Miss Fussy made good on the opportunity to do a thorough search of the yard.

  This particular inn had mounts available for use, but Michael was hesitant to leave the ladies to travel alone. Highwaymen lurked in the area, and the idea of the three women being overtaken was not something Michael wished to contemplate. They would continue in their travels together. Although the ladies had a driver to protect them, they would be safer with Arty and himself along.

  No, Michael reasoned to himself, they were making good time. There was no reason, at this point, to hire a mount. Maintaining their current pace, they would arrive in London late tomorrow. That would provide him with barely enough time to attend his political dinners.

  Just as he glanced at his watch, Lilly and Miss Fussy appeared from behind the building walking briskly. The little dog’s tail wagged so vigorously, her entire body wiggled with it.

  “We ought not to linger if you are to make London in time.” Lilly glanced around and gestured for the other women to hurry along. “We’ve ordered a basket from the cook so we can eat in the carriage—that is, if you don’t mind?”

  She appeared rather adorable, her hand clenched around the strap restraining her dog, rushing the women out of the inn and back into the carriage. For some unknown reason, watching her put something of a lump in his throat. “No,” he said, “A sound plan actually.”

  Lilly placed her dog into the coach and then lifted her foot to climb in herself. The yard was muddied, though, and slippery from the previous day’s rains. Just as she lost her footing, Michael stepped forward and grabbed her from behind. His arms wrapped below her bosom, and he pulled her tightly against him. “I’ve got you.” He spoke the words softly. He assisted her to stand again before dropping his hands to her waist.

  Lilly was stunned at the shock she’d felt when he’d held her against his body. Even through his coat and shirt, not to mention her layers of clothing, she had felt his strength—his warmth. Michael’s arms had once been the safest place on earth.

  Drawing a shaky breath, she firmly placed her feet on the ground and reached up to hand herself into the coach once again. She wanted to slap his hands away as he assisted her up. He was a betrothed man. She would not allow herself to…to what? To remember? To feel? To trust?

  “Thank you,” she muttered. At least she hadn’t landed in the mud. That would have been too humiliating. Once in the carriage, she found Glenda sitting beside Mary facing forward, leaving the backward-facing bench for Lilly to share with Michael.

  “Since we’re eating, I thought Mary should face forward,” Glenda explained. “Remember that last time? She got ill, remember? When she ate those kippers while riding backward?”

  Lilly remembered.

  Nobody wanted Mary to get sick.

  So Lilly slid to the opposite side as Michael climbed in behind her. This most certainly was not what she’d had in mind. She needed to find a topic of conversation to distract herself from his…maleness.

  “The sky looks to be clear today. I think we will be lucky and not meet up with any rain.” Oh, that was brilliant, Lilly. Sparkling conversation indeed.

  Glenda agreed, and then Mary turned and opened her window to allow some air to flow into the carriage. Everybody else turned to do the same with theirs.

  As the carriage pulled onto the road, Mary and Glenda proceeded to distribute the bread, cheese, and fruits from the basket. Eating while riding was a delicate enough task, normally, even more so for Lilly as she attempted to do so without bumping into Michael any more than necessary.

  He seemed to have no such qualms.

  He touched her as though all was right with the world. As though she were a stranger on the mail coach. He was such a man!

  Resigned to his proximity, Lilly gave up and simply delved into the offerings.

  It must have been the wine, for once fully sated, she found she’d enjoyed the meal thoroughly. Leaning back, she pondered. “Why does food taste so much better when eaten out of doors?” The breeze flowing through the carriage was cool and fresh.

  “Must be the novelty of it.” Michael’s gaze teased. Was he too remembering other picnics they’d shared together? He leaned forward and searched the basket. “What, no lemon tarts?” They had been her favorite.

  Lilly cocked her head at him slightly. He’d remembered.

  “I haven’t had a lemon tart in ages.” Lord Beauchamp hadn’t allowed the kitchen to keep sweets available. Even after his death, cook had followed his decree.

  Lemon tarts.

  Such a small detail for him to have recalled.

  Feeling at ease, comfortable even, against her better judgement, Lilly leaned back and glanced sideways at Michael. “Do you still visit Edgewater Heights? I imagine you travel often.” She’d remembered him saying his father owned estates throughout most of England.

  “It’s currently leased out,” he said flatly. “Business decision. It’s getting dicey, keeping the dukedom profitable. Requires new investments and such. Important to keep up with the times.”

  “Oh…” Lilly remembered the home he’d taken such pains to show her.

  It had been set in a lush valley, a few miles from the sea. She remembered he’d acquired a gentle mount for her to learn to ride with him. They’d explored his lands leisurely.

  There had been old ruins to climb around on, hills they’d rolled down, and a lovely stream which dropped down creating the prettiest waterfall. They had gone swimming under it…and more. “That’s so sad. I imagine the tenants are happy living there. It’s such a lovely home.”

  It would have been their home. They would have raised their children and grown old together there.

  But no, Michael had become the duke. They would have moved to his estate near Exeter and kept residence at the ducal seat. She would have been a duchess.

  Except upon becoming a duke, Michael hadn’t come for her.

  It wasn’t meant to be.

  They weren’t meant to be.

  “Do you spend most of your time at Summers Park then?” she asked.

  “As much as possible. If I’m not checking on the other properties, though, I am often required to be in London,” Michael answered matter-of-factly.

  Imagining the ducal seat, Lilly could not help but contemplate what it had been like for him to return to his father’s home in the midst of an epidemic.

  “How did you do it? How did you cope with the aftermath of the fever?” Lilly had been angry with him for not finding her, but she wasn’t such a fool that she didn’t understand he’d likely been under a tremendous amount of stress. She only wished she could have been with him.

  She could have helped him.

  Had he thought her too immature? Had he, in truth, considered her too far below him once becoming a duke? Considering all they’d shared together, she had serious doubts about this now. It was just that her father had been so very convincing.

  Had there been influential people in his life who had persuaded him to look higher for a wife? Or had his feelings been so fleeting that he simply hadn’t thought her worth the trouble?

  For a few moments, it seemed as though he were not going to respond to her question. Glenda and Mary had both given in to the effects of the wine and leaned against each other sleeping soundly. Mary snored in a soft, even tone.

  A disagreeable emotion flickered across Michael’s features before he answered her. Did he never speak of it?

  “Edward was dead when I arrived. I found Father in the last stages. He was delirious, calling for my mother, calling for his mother. He kept calling me Edward.” Michael stared out the window as he spoke. “I think I must have been in shock, that first day. I did nothi
ng but fight panic. Father passing, in fact, did something to move me to action.” He told Lilly about some of his favorite old servants, some who had survived and some who had not. “When summoned home, I had no idea what I was walking into. We buried so many—my father and Edward were just two of them. There was no time for mourning…

  “Having spent time with army physicians, I had learned disease might possibly be transmitted through the air as well as through items the patients had touched. Those of us unaffected covered our mouths and noses with fresh linen. Once the dead were buried, I ordered the clothing and bedding burned. It took over three weeks for the outbreak to subside.” When he turned away from the window to glance at her, his eyes were haunted.

  As he spoke, Lilly thought of what she had been doing during that time. Locking herself in her room, refusing to speak with her father about Michael or Lord Beauchamp. She’d been pathetic, feeling sorry for herself, all the while Michael had been fighting death. Michael had probably saved hundreds of people with his actions. When she hadn’t heard from him after one month, she’d given in to her father.

  “I am very ill,” her father had told her. He was dying and needed to be assured that she and her mother would have a home. He’d convinced her a duke would not marry her. She needed to face reality. Her father had pressed her into marrying Lord Beauchamp, and she’d felt she had no choice but to succumb.

  All the while Michael could have died!

  “You did not become ill?” she asked, fearful even though he was today sitting right here besides her.

  “No.”

  They rode in silence for a while, each contemplating those days so long ago.

  “I didn’t know, Michael. I had no idea.”

  He stared beyond her, not meeting her eyes.

  “I couldn’t come to you. I placed the entire village under quarantine, how could I break my own rules? Many doubted me as it was. We didn’t even allow the mail to come through. It seemed drastic, but I couldn’t take any chances.”

  Lilly swallowed hard. Oh, God, she’d been such a fool. She’d thought he’d inherited and decided to look higher for a better wife, a woman raised to be a duchess. She’d had nothing to offer him, only herself.

  She’d thought it had been because of her, because of him.

  But she had been wrong.

  What would have happened if she had resisted her father? She had believed her father when he’d told her that Captain Redmond, as a duke, would not feel obligated to keep the promises he’d made to her. He’d told her men did that sort of thing all the time, especially when a lady was as easy as she had been.

  She’d been awash in shame and guilt.

  She’d believed her father when he told her she no longer had a choice. He’d wanted her settled. He’d needed to know she and her mother would always have security and a home.

  Lilly raised her fist to her mouth and turned away from Michael. She’d thought she hadn’t any choice, but had she?

  “I didn’t know…” she said in a whisper.

  “Once I returned to London, the caretakers at your aunt’s home gave me a letter from your father, informing me of your marriage. I considered traveling to Plymouth, but you had already married.”

  Oh God, oh God, oh God…Lilly had never imagined such a scenario. Could she have waited? Her father had been dying. There had been absolutely no contact with Michael whatsoever. Surely she could have waited though? Had she been the reason their romance had ended? Had she been the fickle one?

  Her heart fell.

  If so, then she’d more than paid for it by marrying Lord Beauchamp.

  Dearly.

  Lilly turned her back to the window and studied Michael. He was leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped loosely. Even with the breeze flowing through the carriage, there wasn’t enough air. This was a nightmare. “I’m so sorry, Michael.” What else was there to say?

  He glanced over at her and then looked back down at his hands. “There’s been a lot of water under the bridge. We can’t turn back time.” He did not look back at her. “Glenda has a mother; I’m sure you were a devoted wife. I am to marry Lady Natalie, an excellent alliance for sure.”

  How cruel life can be sometimes. If only her father had arrived in London earlier. If only Michael’s family had not come down with the fever. If only Rose had lived. If only she’d never met him. If only…

  Too many if-onlys.

  Chapter Nine

  An Abundance of Yearning

  Edgewater Heights, 1815

  The journey to Edgewater Heights took forever. At least, that was what it had felt like to Lilly. She’d tried reading, crocheting, even embroidering (God help her) to help the time pass more quickly, but none of it could keep her attention for longer than a mile. It seemed molasses moved faster than the horses pulling their carriages. And must they stop at every inn? Really, hadn’t Mother just relieved herself a few hours back?

  Lilly squirmed and shifted the entire two days it took to traverse to Captain Redmond’s home. It was dreadfully hard to act like a genteel lady when one hadn’t seen one’s true love for nearly an entire week!

  As they passed the final village before Edgewater Heights, Lilly’s excitement grew to a tangible thing. “Calm down, Lilly,” her aunt had told her. “You’re going to make yourself sick, for heaven’s sake!”

  That painted a pretty picture.

  Lilly imagined herself, leaping from the carriage into Michael’s loving arms and then promptly retching her luncheon all over the place.

  Perhaps she ought to try to settle down.

  Everything was so beautiful though!

  Tall, lush trees, green grass, and lilac bushes covered the valley where Edgewater Heights nestled. The carriages creaked more than usual as they crossed a delightful cobblestone bridge and then turned down through the wooded drive. And then they rounded a bend, and she saw the house.

  It wasn’t a mansion, but it wasn’t a small country house either. Ropes of ivy profusely climbed the three-story manor nearly to the roof. Arched windows cradled flower boxes, recently planted, and the scent in the air was that of the sea mingled with fresh lilacs. Several steps led up to the large wooden door.

  And standing in front of the house, Captain Redmond—Michael—awaiting their arrival. She must have attempted to stand, for her aunt’s arm pressed her firmly down into her seat.

  “Contain yourself, girl. Show him you have more than a thimbleful of dignity.”

  “Of course.” It was as though the world had changed from grays to colors again.

  The carriages came to a halt, and Michael stepped up to assist the ladies.

  First, her mother. “Welcome to Edgewater Heights, Mrs. Bridge.” Captain Redmond handed her down and then bowed politely.

  Next was her aunt. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Lady Eleanor.” He waited patiently as her aunt allowed him to assist her off the coach. He bowed to her politely.

  Then finally, finally, Lilly leaned out the door. Michael’s hands went to her waist, and he carefully lowered her to the ground. In his gaze, she saw mirrored the yearning she felt.

  Michael wanted to gather her close more than anything, but for propriety’s sake, of course, he did not.

  Instead, he bowed over her hand and pressed his lips to her wrist. “Welcome to Edgewater Heights…Lilly.” Emotion nearly choked him.

  Mr. Harris, Caroline, Penelope, and one of the lady’s maids had all climbed out of the other carriage and were stretching and making pleasing remarks about the property. Placing Lilly’s hand on his arm, Michael went about greeting the other guests and inviting them inside to freshen up while the servants took up the luggage. He introduced the women to his housekeeper, Mrs. Smith, and she asked them to follow her so she could take them to each of their quarters. Danbury volunteered to show Harris to the wing where his room was located.

  In fact, it was a sizeable house. The staff had been madly cleaning windows and floors, airing ru
gs, washing linens, and sweeping out fireplaces for the last three days. Having worked alongside many of them, Michael was certain everything was in as good a condition as possible. Lilly went to follow the housekeeper, but Michael held her back.

  “I’d show you to your room, if I may, my lady.”

  “Oh Michael, I’m not a lady.” Lilly laughed at that, her eyes sparkling.

  “You’re my lady.” He pulled her close, rather abruptly, and buried his face in her neck. “I am so happy to see you.” He spoke the words in a rushed whisper before quickly pulling away. He didn’t wish to harm her reputation. Covering her hand, he led her up the other side of the U-shaped staircase.

  Lilly gazed around the foyer curiously. The carpet was worn, but all the wood had been shined and polished. There wasn’t any dust to be seen, and lemon oil scented the air. “It’s beautiful, Michael! It is grand, and yet, it feels like a home.”

  Satisfaction settled upon him at her words. Once they reached the landing, he guided her past several doors. They led to the master’s suites. He would have loved to ensconce her in the suite adjoining his but knew that was out of the question—for now. So instead he took her to his next favorite room.

  He opened the door and gestured for her to enter. The carpet, the drapes, the linen, and the counterpane had all been replaced especially for her visit. The room was clean and modern and comfortable. The window boasted the best view in the house, south over the gardens. Beyond the gardens, one could see the forest and far off in the distance, on a clear day, the sea.

  A footman stepped in behind them and placed Lilly’s trunk at the end of the bed. Michael addressed her. “I have designated one of the servants to act as lady’s maid for you. I wasn’t sure if you would bring Betty along or not.”

  “How kind of you, Captain Redmond. We did not, in fact, bring Betty along.”

  “I shall send her up shortly, then, if you wish to freshen up?” Michael sounded very formal. She waited for the footman to leave and then after he had partially closed the door behind him, Lilly threw herself into Michael’s arms. In her enthusiasm, both of them tumbled onto the large bed.