****
Afterwards, Michael rolled to one side of Lilly and pulled her into his arms. He wished to hold her forever. Not wanting reality to intrude, he rubbed his cheek upon her hair as they both relaxed into each other. “Are you all right, love?” She’d wiped away their mess and then settled comfortably back into his arms. Neither of them had spoken yet, and he wasn’t ready to allow any distance between them.
She did not answer for so long, he thought she’d fallen asleep, but then she stretched her body and turned to face him. Her skirts and bodice were bunched around her waist, and Michael could not help but gaze at her skin, still flushed from their passion. He felt himself begin to harden again watching her move.
And then she spoke. “I know this, we, the two of us, for some reason is not to be. But I will cherish every moment with you, every touch.” She paused and looked beyond him and into the sky. Sunlight reflecting off the leaves sparkled in her eyes. “I know there ought to be guilt, but in this moment, I feel none. So please, please, do not apologize.”
Was he sorry? No. At least he’d been able to protect her somewhat. “I won’t,” he promised, one arm under her head, the other tucked between them. He’d not released his seed inside of her. When he’d tried to pull away, he’d had to free himself from her legs. He very nearly had not been successful. “My mind is in a turmoil, but right now the only thing I want to think about is how you feel. How you taste.”
There would be plenty of thinking to do later. What to do. When to do it. But for now, he would see her smile.
He rolled onto his back, bringing her with him. Startled and now straddling him, she looked down into his face. Ah, there it was. That secret smile.
“You are a pagan goddess atop me.”
She mesmerized him. Her hair had come undone and tumbled down her back. As she leaned forward, a strand swung down to caress his lips. The tips of her breasts rubbed tantalizingly over the fabric of his shirt.
“Lilly,” Michael said.
“Yes,” she whispered, finding his heat with her own.
“I won’t apologize for this either.” And with that statement, they both explored, touched, and joined again. And for all of these things, there was nary an apology spoken.
****
After what could have been hours or only minutes, Michael led Lilly back to the lake where they tidied up as much as was possible having only two handkerchiefs and ice-cold water. Michael had managed to locate her hair pins, and together they’d somehow pulled her hair into a simple chignon. Her dress was wrinkled, however, and his breeches stained with grass. All Michael could do at this point was hope nobody noticed. He would not comment upon Lilly’s disheveled state, though. She might not return to the others if he did so.
There really was no choice in the matter.
Relishing the time in one another’s company, yet knowing it was nearly at an end, they walked arm in arm along the remainder of the path that circled the lake. Before emerging from the woods, Michael pulled her into his arms one last time. Forehead to forehead, they breathed each other in.
“I do love you, and I will never be sorry.” Lilly spoke the words quietly, as though reciting a prayer.
“I love you, and I will never be sorry,” Michael promised back.
Lilly dropped her arms and stepped away resolutely before twisting her face into a weak attempt at a smile. Michael placed his hand upon the side of her face.
And then it was over.
Unable to stop her, unable to offer her anything, he watched as she skipped ahead down the path toward the voices of their friends. She would emerge from the woods alone. Michael followed slowly.
He was beginning to see she was vital to his future happiness. And perhaps he was to hers, as well.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Awakening
The early morning sun barely peeked through the trees as Michael rode along Rotten Row in a peacefully deserted Hyde Park. He’d been so busy the past several weeks, he’d not ridden as often as he needed. The whirlwind of meetings and dinners and other social obligations had pulled him into a vortex of sorts, leaving him feeling somewhat out of control.
Enough.
Presently his state of affairs had been manipulating many of his actions and decisions. He needed to reexamine the forces involved in his situation.
What was important? What mattered most? Upon returning from London Hills, Michael had been a man pulled apart by his conscience and his sense of honor as a gentleman.
From the moment he became the Duke of Cortland, Michael had made a vow to himself. He would live up to the example both his father and older brother had shown him. Although he had not been included in much of the training Edward had been given, he understood the major principles upheld by the Cortland dukes for seven generations.
First and foremost, do nothing to bring shame upon the title while managing the land in a manner such that the tenants and their families prosper. Honor the pledge of loyalty to England. And lastly, provide for the succession of the title.
Somehow the responsibility of caring for his tenants and providing for a succession had become synonymous with marrying Lady Natalie. His promises involved his honor and his standing in society.
But long ago he had made another promise.
Not publicly, or even formally, but in act and deed he had promised himself to Lilly. He had made this commitment before he had become a duke, and his change in status had not nullified it.
He’d thought she’d abandoned him. Did her marriage relieve him of the promise? And then he learned something about himself.
It didn’t matter.
None of it mattered.
The bigger issue was this: Could he extricate himself from his more recent promise without causing harm to the duchy, Lady Natalie, and for Christ’s sake, England?
First, he considered his estates and his tenants. His obligation to help lower the price of food would be less crucial after the votes had all been cast. Ravensdale had been intentionally stalling to buy time to sway undecided members of the realm. They needed three more votes.
This could be accomplished without his marriage to Lady Natalie. However, it would have to be done before he cried off. That gave him a little less than six weeks.
If he could pass his amendment, then he would have done what he could for his country.
Which left Lady Natalie.
Lady Natalie was a beautiful, accomplished, and tenderhearted young woman, who, he was quite certain, was not in love with him. In fact, he believed ruefully, she was not even attracted to him. They treated each other almost as siblings. Assuming the vote could be presented in time, it was quite possible she might be convinced to jilt him. This was not completely impossible.
Then there was Lilly, the only woman he’d ever loved.
His dearest Lilly, a woman, essentially, alone in the world. Her deceased husband had not provided adequately for her nor for his own daughter. The only family they had left to depend upon was a quirky old woman.
Nearly a decade ago, he had made a promise. He’d promised Lilly his love, his name, and his heart. Years ago, he’d had every intention of honoring his promise.
But he had not.
He was being presented with a second chance.
Feeling invigorated by his decision, Michael leaned forward and urged his horse into a gallop in the direction of his offices. He had work to do.
****
Lilly sat back upon her heels and examined her work. With the sun barely peeking over the horizon, she had donned an old day dress and come outside to work in the garden. Sleep eluded her.
Over and over again, her mind returned to the moments she’d shared with Michael. Unable to help herself, she remembered what she’d felt when he’d touched her, when he’d laughed with her, when he’d looked into her eyes.
You must know I love you. I never stopped loving you.
She remembered the feel of his body pressing her into the soft grass beneath
them.
You are the master of my heart, of my body.
Lying in bed, remembering how they had been together the previous day nearly stole her breath. She’d even been tempted to touch herself, closing her eyes, imagining his hands.
Continuing to rest on her heels, she placed her hand upon her stomach, over her womb.
In spite of society’s expectations, in spite of her position with Glenda and Aunt Eleanor, an aching part of her soul wished Michael had released his seed into her body—that they could have made a child together.
During all her time with Lord Beauchamp, it was the one thing he could have given her which would have taken some of the sting out of being married to him—of living her life without Michael.
Carrying Michael’s child would have involved numerous complications. She would become a fallen woman, shunned by all of society.
But she would have found a way.
She chastised herself for thinking thusly.
But she had remembered something. She had remembered when she’d wiped at her thigh, there had been some…some of it had seemed to be coming out of her.
Agitated at her own thoughts, she pulled at some weeds and broke up a large clump of dirt.
What if she were?
She would leave London—move to a small village far away. Her aunt and Glenda need never be exposed to her condition. Society need never know. As a widow, she could alter the date of her husband’s death. People might suspect the truth, but she could live with that.
Upon which thought she threw the clump of dirt at a large tree.
What a fool to think such thoughts!
He’d protected her, and rightfully so. They’d made love twice, and on both occasions, he’d withdrawn. She needed to dismiss such fanciful and ridiculous thoughts from her mind forever.
She needed to move forward. Her future was going to be a pleasant one. As, it seemed, was Glenda’s.
They were expecting a visit from Mr. Joseph Spencer soon. Of course, this was not something a person could depend upon, as Lilly knew all too well. But she was hopeful for her niece.
Furthermore, she’d received no further threats from Lord Hawthorn.
Glenda and Mr. Spencer seemed in love. It would be an excellent match for her niece, and then Lilly could relax, knowing her sister’s daughter was cared for. Heavens, she sounded like her father now.
Hmm, Lilly thought. Negotiating the marriage contract was likely going to fall upon her. Perhaps she ought to obtain some legal aid. She had no experience with such and did not want to make a mistake that would come back and haunt either Glenda or their children years from now.
She tilted her head to the side as a thought occurred to her. Could she perhaps have a very small sum included to provide her with a minimal income so she could live independently? She most definitely was thinking like her father now.
Was that ethical? Was it even legal?
Not that she minded being beholden to Aunt Eleanor, but there would be relief in having some financial independence.
A woman had very few options.
She was either owned by her father or her husband.
Having neither, Lilly, finally, was in ownership of herself. And with that ownership came responsibility. She intended to honor that responsibility far better than her father or husband had.
As Lilly resumed her work, another thought loomed.
When—if—Glenda were to marry Mr. Joseph Spencer, there would always be the chance Lilly would encounter both Lady Natalie and Michael—as a married couple. They would be duke and duchess then. They would have children.
Lilly nearly gasped at the thought.
Lady Natalie was close to Aunt Eleanor. In fact, Lilly had learned Lady Natalie was Aunt Eleanor’s goddaughter. Good Lord! She addressed Lilly’s own aunt as Aunt Eleanor!
There would be no reprieve.
Lilly must make her own way. She loved her aunt, but she, herself, was going to need some time to get over all of this.
And if, by some miracle, she were carrying, she could never tell Michael. Even though it would be her deepest desire, she could not allow herself to do so. For if he knew, then either one of two things would happen.
Most likely, he would carry her off to Gretna Green for a hasty marriage to protect her and the child. Unfortunately, later he would realize he had ruined all of his political plans as well as relationships with the Earl of Ravensdale and other peers. He would come to realize he had shirked his responsibility to his tenants and dishonored his title, in his own eyes anyway.
He was a man of honor.
In the hours they’d traveled together on the way to London not so long ago, he had gone on at length about how exorbitant corn prices were harming people who had worked and lived on his land holdings for generations. He was deeply committed to this duty to them.
In the long term, if Michael shirked his duties as duke, he would ultimately come to resent her. And then their love, most certainly, would result in ashes.
She did not wish to find herself—ever again—tied to a man who resented her—a man who did not respect her.
And what of Lady Natalie? She would be jilted and heartbroken. Well, perhaps not heartbroken, but what would she think of Lilly? Would she believe Lilly had intentionally betrayed her?
The second course of action Michael could possibly take would be unendurable as well. Because it was possible he would go on to marry Lady Natalie anyway. He could perhaps offer to set Lilly up as his mistress.
Except she did not truly believe he would ever do that to Lady Natalie.
No, he would pay her a sum of money, not acknowledge his own child, and require her to disappear discreetly. But what had he said to her? Hurting you is the last thing in the world I ever wanted to do. In her heart, she did not believe Michael could actually do such a thing, but people had disappointed her in the past.
She did not care to give another person such an opportunity to fail her. No, Lilly decided adamantly, if she were enceinte, she would find a way to hide it until she could go away.
And grow her own damn garden, thank you!
All these thoughts were ludicrous at this point.
But what if she could go away on her own?
She would need an income that would provide for either the purchase or rent of a small cottage, enough for living, and perhaps enough to retain a housekeeper. It would not be an unheard-of amount.
She would not have to see Michael—on holidays, at family gatherings—with his wife…his children…She could avoid all that.
Hope rose inside her. Hope that she could take some control of her life and refuse to be manipulated by others again. Even though she could not possibly be with child, she began to form a plan. For regardless, she would not allow herself to wallow in self-pity while Michael married his bride.
She would be far away.
And eventually the pain would recede.
****
Later that afternoon, the first of Lilly’s plan began to take shape.
Thick dark clouds had moved over London, and a heavy drizzle had fallen for several hours. What with the garden party they had planned upon attending cancelled, Lilly, Glenda, and her aunt spent the afternoon reading a novel they had begun earlier that week. Lilly read out loud as her aunt appeared to be dozing but would ask an occasional question disproving such, and Glenda worked furiously on a new design she was embroidering upon a handkerchief for Joseph.
The reading was interrupted when Jarvis entered the room and asked if Lady Sheffield and Lady Beauchamp would receive a call from Mr. Joseph Spencer. Lilly and her aunt glanced at one another with raised eyebrows. And then they both looked over at Glenda who was blushing profusely.
Lady Sheffield responded, “Glenda, make yourself scarce, gel. Jarvis, have him await us in the drawing room.”
Embroidery forgotten, Glenda sprinted off to her room to change into a more flattering gown and repair her appearance. Lilly placed the book face down on a side tab
le and addressed her aunt.
“Aunt, do you know anything of marriage contracts?”
Lady Eleanor considered the question for a moment and then answered surprisingly, “You’ve figured out that you ought to include a competence for your own future? I have been meaning to suggest this to you. The Spencers are one of the richest families in all of England. There is no reason you ought not to be included in the provisions.
“Ravensdale will, no doubt, have the contract drawn up by his man of business, but we can have my solicitor look it over as well. Knowing the family, I am reasonably certain an annuity will be included in the first draft, but if not, we will have it added. You ought never be concerned for your welfare again, my dear.”
It couldn’t possibly be that easy! Lilly nearly put her face into her hands and cried in relief.
She did not, however. Instead, after waiting quietly for several minutes, the two women eventually rose calmly and proceeded to the drawing room to meet with the prospective groom. They caught him pacing back and forth.
It was all, really, rather charming, Lilly thought, as Mr. Spencer very formally asked them permission to propose to dear, sweet Miss Beauchamp. He had not planned upon finding a wife this early in life, he stated, for he was only four-and-twenty, but love apparently had been unaware of his plans.
Lilly, acting as guardian to Glenda, put him out of his misery quickly, stating that the couple had her blessing.
“Assuming the marriage contracts are satisfactory,” Lady Eleanor had added.
“Of course, of course,” he agreed.
“And,” Lilly added with a smile, “assuming the lady herself agrees.” This important consideration ought not to be overlooked.
It was the most important one of all.
Rising to her feet, Lilly said, “I shall fetch Miss Beauchamp so you may ask her yourself.”
Her aunt stood as well. “The door will remain open,” Aunt Eleanor said, “and we shall, of course be eavesdropping from the other side.”
Lilly rolled her eyes at Mr. Spencer, and they left him alone.
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