Lily had never really had anyone speak to her so bluntly before and she found she rather liked it, even though she had no answers at all. ‘I’m not sure. They don’t teach us to be duchesses in America.’
‘Nothing to it, I would say, if you’re a lady with money. Are you?’
‘My father has money. I don’t.’
Mrs Hall laughed. ‘It’s the same thing. And I dare say His Grace wasn’t raised to be a duke, either. Not like his brother.’
‘He’s not much like his brother, then?’
‘Not half, Miss Wilkins, not that it’s such a bad thing. His Grace, the late Duke, was a pale lad, not much for getting out and about and getting his hands dirty. Though he was kind enough.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘He didn’t seem to be getting along with finding a duchess, either. Not anyone suitable, anyway.’
Lily swallowed hard, remembering how both brothers had admired Lady Rannock. ‘Did he not?’
‘Eh, he was young. But His Grace, the current Duke, he’s lived in the world. He needs someone to help him in his new life. Every grand house needs a mistress. But the right sort.’
‘The right sort?’
‘Someone calm and kind, a good, practical head on her shoulders. The Duke’s mother is good enough, but always running off to London! And someone rich, of course. Roderick’s not as grand as it used to be.’ She studied Lily closer. ‘You seem quiet and kind. I like you.’
Lily laughed. ‘Thank you. I rather like you, too. But I’m not sure about duchessing.’
Meg brought the tea, carefully balancing the tray on her little hands. She was the perfect young lady as she poured and served, and soon they were all laughing at Mrs Hall’s tales of wild parties in the youth of Aidan’s father.
‘You all seem very merry,’ Robert Hall said when the men joined them. Aidan swung Meg into the air again, making her giggle.
‘Oh, yes,’ Lily said, slicing more cake for them. ‘Mrs Hall was just telling me about the wild parties your parents once had at the castle! Who could have imagined it?’
‘Nothing to do with me, I promise,’ Aidan said with a roguish smile, stuffing a bite of cake into his mouth.
* * *
It was growing late in the afternoon by the time they left the farmhouse, Lily feeling a warm glow from the merry time as the Halls waved them off. The horses were freshly rested and ready for another gallop back to the castle and Lily and Aidan raced back over the fields and meadows.
They stopped by the lake and folly, drawing in to catch their breath and take in the beautiful view.
Lily turned to Aidan, laughing, about to say something about the beautiful lights last night and the magic of the place, but something in his expression stopped her words. He seemed to freeze in place.
She glanced back at the folly and saw the flash of something crimson against the pale stone. She shielded her eyes from the bright sunlight off the water and saw it was a lady in a red-and-black-striped walking gown, her red-plumed hat set at a jaunty angle on elaborate curls of golden hair.
It was Lady Rannock, Aidan’s old love. For just a moment, Lily thought she also saw a man in the shadows; he was tall, too tall to be Lord Rannock. She thought he wore a dark jacket, but when she blinked he was gone and Lady Rannock was alone.
Lily looked up at Aidan, who still stared at Lady Rannock, frozen in place. She had seen them and waved merrily; Lily refused to give in and run away. They dismounted and she followed Aidan towards the folly as Lady Rannock came down the ramp, her ruffled skirts trailing behind her. She looked so elegant, so tall and fashionable and dashing, that Lily felt quite dusty beside her, like an urchin beside a queen.
Lady Rannock’s gaze, icy blue in her classical oval face, swept over Lily in one quick flash before she dismissed her and turned to Aidan. Her smile widened and she held out her hand.
‘Aidan, my dear Duke! So glorious to see you at Roderick again, it is quite like old times,’ she said, a purr in her voice. ‘And—Miss Wilkins, is it? Didn’t I see you at Lady Crewe’s ball?’
‘You may have, Lady Rannock,’ Lily said. ‘The Duchess did say you and Lord Rannock were expected today. I hope he’s well?’
Her smile quirked at the corners. ‘Quite. But I fear Gerald does get so tired when we travel. He hasn’t got your intrepid spirit, Aidan. I thought I would explore a bit while he rested.’ She stepped closer to Aidan and laid her hand, bare of gloves, on his sleeve. He didn’t move away, his expression taut as he looked down at her.
Lady Rannock’s smile turned sultry, her eyes narrowed. ‘I well remember this lovely little folly, don’t you? The night of that ball...’
‘I remember,’ Aidan said tightly.
Lily suddenly felt terribly embarrassed to be there, to be watching such a personal moment. Her own magical evening in that folly suddenly seemed cheap. It was clear the place meant something to Lady Rannock...and to Aidan.
‘Excuse me,’ she murmured, though she was sure neither of them noticed as she backed away. She hurried to fetch her horse, scrambling awkwardly on her own into the saddle. She couldn’t face the embarrassment of running away, but she urged her horse to a quick walk back towards the house.
‘Miss Wilkins,’ she thought she heard Aidan call, but she dared not look back to see him with Lady Rannock. The perfect, golden day had turned grey and shadowed, even though the sun still glowed overhead and Roderick was as beautiful as ever. For one moment, she’d imagined she might be able to belong there. But Lady Rannock already did belong; her every easy movement, her confident smile, showed her to be a part of this world. Aidan’s world.
Once he had cared for Lady Rannock. He had kissed her. Maybe even in that very summer house! Now that his brother was gone, maybe Aidan could give full run to his old emotions, since Gerald Rannock did not have Aidan’s...intrepid spirit.
Lily guided her horse back to the stable yard, feeling so numb, so silly, so tired. A groom dashed out immediately to help her alight and she saw that, far from being empty as the yard had been when they rode out that morning, it was now crowded with carriages. The party was beginning and she couldn’t hide away alone.
‘Thank you,’ Lily said, swaying a bit as her boots met the cobblestones. ‘Tell me—Charlie, is it?’
‘Yes, miss.’
‘Is there a side door where I could slip into the house? I do feel rather windblown at the moment and it does look busy here.’
‘Everyone did seem to arrive from the station at once, miss,’ the groom said. ‘If you go round to the rose garden, I think you could slip in through Her Grace’s breakfast room.’
Lily remembered sitting with the Duchess in that room that morning, when she had spoken of the importance of ‘the right Duchess’. It seemed a year ago. ‘Thank you, Charlie.’
She draped her train over her arm and hurried around to the rose garden. She glimpsed a couple strolling there, arm in arm, shaded by the lady’s lacy parasol, laughing with their heads bent close. To her shock she saw it was Rose and Lord James Grantley. They looked terribly comfortable and happy in each other’s company.
Once, Lily had imagined she could make a life with Lord James, or someone like him. How far away that seemed now! And how silly when looking at him with Rose now. It seemed she could only gain a different sort of intimacy, but how could she do that if Aidan still loved Lady Rannock?
She shook her head, feeling so muddled and confused. She slipped through the tall windows into the breakfast room, empty and shadowed now. The old Duke seemed to watch her from his portrait, judging her with his dark eyes, but she turned away from him. She hoped to slip up the stairs to her chamber and ring Doris for a bath before anyone else saw her. A burst of laughter from the hall stopped her.
‘Oh, Miss Wilkins!’ the Duchess called. She wore a tea gown of pale green satin and lace and looked bright and light. She tugged a man forward and he smiled, hi
s handsome face silver-bearded and beaming. ‘Do come and meet my fiancé, Lord Shelton. Shellie, darling, this is Miss Wilkins, the pretty American girl I was telling you about.’
He bowed and took Lily’s hand, his kiss brushing her gloved knuckles as his beaming smile widened. What an old roué, she thought. She couldn’t help but like him.
‘How do you do, Lord Shelton,’ she said with a smile, very glad now of Miss Johnson’s lessons. She could appear calm and cool even with disappointment washing over her like a cold wave. ‘Do forgive my dusty appearance.’
‘You must have just returned from your ride,’ the Duchess said, glancing over Lily’s shoulder. ‘Is Aidan not with you?’
‘He met Lady Rannock in the garden and I went on ahead,’ Lily said.
The Duchess frowned. ‘Such an old friend, dear Melisande,’ she said shortly. ‘I will have to go find them. Shellie, do you fancy a little stroll?’
‘With you, my darling, always. I would stroll to the ends of the earth,’ he said loftily, making Lily laugh. How lucky the Duchess was and Rose, too. If only she could borrow some of that fortune. ‘And I need to find my cousin, Lord Clarenden, while I’m at it. He does tend to vanish and I know he’s quite an admirer of Lady Rannock—he won’t want to miss greeting her.’
Lily nodded and fleetingly wondered if Lord Clarendon was the tall man who had been with Lady Rannock in the garden.
‘Your mother is in her chamber, Miss Wilkins, and I believe your sisters are out in the gardens,’ the Duchess said. ‘Shall we see you at tea? We’ll be quite an informal group today.’
‘Yes, of course, Duchess. Lord Shelton.’
She ran up the stairs to her own chamber, as if escaping something nipping at her heels. Doris wasn’t there yet, but Lily impatiently tossed her hat down and tore at the buttons on her sleeves, desperate to be free of her habit, free of the feelings she didn’t understand. What did she really want? And how could she find it now?
* * *
Aidan looped his cravat carefully around his throat, staring into his dressing room mirror as his valet brushed the shoulders of the finely tailored black wool coat and smoothed the cream brocade waistcoat. It was all so different from the evenings of his old life, sitting by a fire in old dungarees and a loose linen coat, drinking cheap whisky and listening to the howl of hyenas in the darkness beyond.
Roderick was his home, yet it didn’t feel like it. It had only begun to feel like it as he rode over the fields with Lily beside him, seeing it all through her eyes. As he sat with her in a farmer’s parlour, hearing her easy chatter, her laughter, she had made everything look new, full of possibility. She had showed him his home anew.
Then he glimpsed Melisande and the past drifted over the now once more, like the slide of an eclipse over the sun. The past never seemed to leave him alone. Poor Eddie.
Aidan’s fingers stilled on the folds of his cravat. Once, when he was young and full of passion for everything in life, Melisande had seemed like a goddess to him. Just touching her hand filled him with fire. He’d thought she felt the same until he had learned that Edward also loved her. Edward was the Duke and she would go with him. It hadn’t worked out that way, of course. Edward had died, Melisande had married Rannock and Aidan had sailed for South America. It had all been left behind.
Or so he had thought. Today, when Melisande had touched his arm and smiled up at him with that same tilt of her golden head, the years had vanished for an instant. He was the same passion-struck young man who had kissed Melisande in the folly, beneath the Diana statue’s watchful, disapproving gaze.
‘...such a very special place,’ Melisande had whispered, going up on tiptoe to place her lips near his ear. ‘I’ve never forgotten it, have you?’
Aidan hadn’t forgotten, though he had tried. It was the great regret of his life, yet Melisande’s beauty was still there.
He had glanced back, but Lily was gone, that cold, wide-eyed look of realisation gone with her. He couldn’t bear to have her think ill of him, to think he still lived in old romances. He would have to find her tonight to explain. But how?
‘I’m in the Chinese Room, Aidan,’ Melisande had murmured when they parted at the terrace. ‘Just down the corridor.’ And with one more smile, one more touch, she had swayed away in her red-and-black gown.
Only then did he see his mother and Lord Shelton at a table at the far end of the terrace—with Mrs Wilkins. ‘We went to look for you in the garden, darling, but must have missed you,’ his mother had said with a slight frown. ‘So we came back for tea. Care for some?’
‘All ready now, I think, Your Grace,’ his valet said, tearing Aidan away from the memory. He handed Aidan a small box with a cameo-headed tiepin and Aidan fastened the somewhat twisted folds of his cravat. He feared he was a disappointing duke.
‘Yes, thank you,’ he said. All dressed, he left his chamber and made his way down the corridor to the main staircase. He passed the door to the Chinese Room with its tiny name card in the gold slot: Lady Rannock. It was quiet there and he didn’t pause.
At first, he thought the White Drawing Room was empty. He was the first to arrive, but then he heard a rustle near the window. He saw his mother there, wearing her mauve satin gown and the Lennox diamonds, rearranging a group of snuffboxes on a table.
‘What do you think, Aidan dear?’ she said, not even looking at him. ‘I do believe the Peter the Great box should be in the centre since it is the most impressive. I promised to show Mrs Wilkins the collection before dinner.’
He went to his mother’s side, the golden light of evening casting a glow over the gilt and pearls of the boxes. He was amazed they were still there, not sold on like many of the paintings and sculptures. ‘You and Mrs Wilkins seem to have become great friends, Mama. I’m surprised.’
‘Why would you be surprised? She and I understand each other.’ She moved two of the boxes and pursed her lips as she studied the effect. ‘She also grew up in a world that understands family, tradition and duty. I’m sure she passed that on to her daughters.’
Aidan thought of Lily laughing easily with the farm family and how her face glowed as her fingers flew over the piano. ‘Her daughters are certainly extraordinary.’
‘Oh, that one twin is quite a hoyden. I’m sure I saw her climbing a tree today. But the eldest Miss Wilkins...one would scarcely believe she was American. So quiet and sensible. Pretty, too.’
‘And rich?’
‘Of course. It’s so crass to have to say it, but we both know that is essential.’ She twitched at the scarlet velvet curtain, covering a long crack in the decorated plaster wall. ‘This is so important, Aidan. And you do seem to like her.’
‘Yes. I like her.’ Too much.
‘Then we must do nothing to jeopardise the happy conclusion of this...this...’
‘Deal?’ he said shortly.
She pursed her lips. ‘This match. I saw you with Melisande Rannock today.’
‘You did invite her to this party.’
‘Perhaps that was a mistake. I still remember such tender feelings of friendship for her mother and life must be so dull for Melisande in Scotland. I thought all that old nonsense was long past.’
‘And so it is.’ It had to be.
His mother studied him carefully. ‘I do hope so. I would so love to see you safely settled before I marry Shelton.’
‘What makes you think Miss Wilkins would have me?’
She laughed. ‘She will—if you continue to play your cards right. Did you not learn poker in some dusty saloon in your travels?’ Donat came into the drawing room then, followed by the footmen with their silver trays of sherry. ‘Ah, the aperitifs! Excellent, Donat. Everyone should be down soon. And do straighten your cravat, Aidan dear. We were talking about having a picnic at the lake tomorrow. You can take dear Miss Wilkins rowing! Won’t that be lovely? And Mrs Wilkins was just tel
ling me today that she had a telegram from her husband, the delightful millionaire. He should be here just in time for any...happy announcements.’
Chapter Thirteen
‘Oh, Lily! How exciting! A picnic!’ Violet cried, as the twins burst into the Queen’s Chamber as Lily finished dressing. ‘No more being stuck in this enormous edifice. I’m sure I can take some lovely photos of the lake.’
‘I rather like it here,’ Rose said. The two of them perched on the edge of Lily’s bed, watching as Doris finished fastening the pearl buttons at the back of Lily’s pink muslin dress. ‘There’s so much to look at everywhere! All the paintings and flowers, the books in the library...’
‘That’s just because you like wandering around with Lord James,’ Violet teased.
Rose blushed the colour of her name and Lily gave her a wistful smile.
‘Better than climbing trees, Vi,’ Rose said. ‘We’re not ten years old any more.’
‘I was trying to see the summer house,’ Violet said, kicking up her heels under the lace hem of her white skirt. ‘The gardens are very pretty, I admit, and we get to see the lake today. What do you think of it all, Lily?’
Lily remembered the fields flying past under her horse’s hooves, the gleam of the house in the distance. The moonlit folly. ‘I don’t think anyone could help but be impressed by it all.’
‘But would you want to live here?’ Violet asked.
‘I would miss you all so much,’ Lily murmured. She didn’t know how to answer otherwise. She could see living here—with Aidan, if he wanted her there just as much. If he didn’t still carry a torch for Melisande.
‘We could come stay with you,’ Rose said eagerly. ‘England is so much nicer than New York.’
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