Daring the Duke Page 8

  But Lillian felt positively ill at the thought. Revealing to others what she knew about the duchess would be underhanded. She wanted justice but not at the cost of the duchess’s reputation or happiness. The woman had been so kind to Lillian and had nothing to do with what Elijah had done to Helena.

  With a sigh, Lillian sank to the edge of her bed. She truly wasn’t made for vengeance. She had it in her hand and couldn’t bear to use it. All she truly wanted was to make Elijah realize how much he’d hurt Helena. To feel the same pain and loss Helena had. And to be sorry for the pain he’d caused and think twice before he toyed with another lady’s affections.

  She couldn’t set aside the fact that his father’s death had already done that. And now he had his mother’s problem to worry over. How much more did she want him to suffer?

  More, part of her demanded. Until he understood how much pain he’d caused Helena and realized he was partially responsible for her death. Yet she still had difficulty believing he was the type of man who’d trifle with an innocent young lady’s feelings so callously.

  Where did she draw the line? Did she confront him and see what his reaction was or continue her plan?

  Unable to make peace with her warring thoughts, she slid under the covers, closed her eyes, and willed herself to sleep, only to have Elijah fill her dreams with gentle smiles and a lingering awareness in his blue eyes.

  ~*~

  Elijah waited in his carriage while the footman knocked on Viscount Frost’s door the next morning. The hour was early—too early for regular calling hours. But Elijah had spent a restless night. He needed to know how much Lillian knew and what she intended.

  With luck, Frost would allow him a moment alone with his sister. If not, he’d ask the questions to which he needed answers with the viscount present. Either way, he intended to obtain her response.

  By the time he’d gotten his mother home, she’d been slurring her words and hardly able to take a step—both an unusual occurrence. And a frightening one if he were honest. He didn’t like seeing his mother incapacitated. It made her appear far too vulnerable, and he didn’t care for that.

  The footman returned and opened the carriage door. “The viscount is home and receiving, your grace.”

  “Thank you.” Elijah alighted and walked up the stairs to where the butler held open the door.

  After bowing, the butler said, “This way, your grace.”

  Elijah entered Frost’s library only to pause just inside the door. The collection of books was impressive even at a glance. He knew Frost was a medieval scholar, so it only made sense that many of his books would be of that period.

  But Elijah hadn’t realized how remarkable the books themselves would be—handcrafted bindings with gold-embossed lettering. Small ones. Massive ones. This was a much different collection than those in his own library.

  “Your grace.” Frost moved around the corner of his desk and bowed. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

  A book sat open on his desk, the handwritten lettering intriguing. No wonder the work appealed to Frost.

  “I was hoping to have a word with Lady Lillian.”

  Frost frowned, cool intelligence in his green eyes. “To what end?”

  Elijah wasn’t certain whether to be insulted or amused. After all, the obvious reason for his visit would be because he was interested in courting Lillian. From Frost’s reaction, Elijah had to assume he didn’t necessarily care for the idea.

  Nonplussed, Elijah gathered his thoughts, settling on enough of the truth to satisfy them both. “I have a question for her regarding my mother.”

  The viscount took a moment to respond. “Very well.” He stepped over to the bell, waiting patiently until a footman came then requested Lillian’s presence.

  “You have quite the collection.” Elijah nodded toward the books to break the silence.

  “Thank you. I enjoy them.” Frost’s gaze slowly swept the shelves with pride. “They bring me happiness.”

  Elijah envied him. Though he was starting to appreciate the challenge of managing his holdings, it was a long way from enjoyment. Perhaps with time, it would become so. He stepped nearer Frost’s desk to examine the pages of the open book, admiring the ornate, nearly indecipherable script. “Books were a form of art in that age, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Indeed,” Frost agreed. “Did you know that the shape of books changed from square to rectangular after the fall of the Roman Empire?”

  Elijah studied the shelves more closely. “I had no idea.”

  “It was because animal skins were being used instead of Egyptian papyrus. Books made in one part of the world have a much different touch and smell than those made in another. However, the contents, from bawdy poems to sacred texts, are often a mystery that takes time to solve.”

  “A puzzle.” Elijah nodded, better understanding the viscount’s interest in the ancient words. “With secrets to be uncovered. Odd how often it comes down to secrets.” After all, that was the reason he was here—to see what it would take for Lillian to keep his mother’s secret, assuming she knew it.

  “How do you mean?” Frost asked.

  Elijah shook his head. “Ignore my ramblings. I fear I have much on my mind at the moment.”

  “Ah. Another puzzle.” Frost gave a small smile. “Life so often is.”

  “I find myself longing for a simpler one.” He studied the viscount. “You seem to have found it.”

  Frost’s smile broadened. “Love has a way of simplifying life, of rearranging one’s priorities.”

  Elijah frowned, uncertain whether that was a good thing. It seemed he had more questions about life than he’d realized. But only one mattered today.

  The sound of the door opening had him turning to find Lillian standing there. Her gown was a golden ray of sunshine, but the shadows under her eyes suggested something else. He had no idea how to interpret that, nor the wariness in the way she held herself.

  She dipped into a delicate curtsy, suggesting she couldn’t be capable of the darkness he suspected of her.

  “Your grace.”

  “The duke has a question for you,” Frost said. “About his mother.”

  No surprise or questioning look came over her expression, a telling sign that worried him. Had she expected him to call?

  “Oh?” She folded her hands before her, remaining where she was.

  Frost’s gaze swung between them, frowning as though uncertain of the undercurrents that filled the room. “I’ll be right outside.” The look he gave Elijah suggested he wasn’t certain if it were wise to leave them alone but decided to give them the benefit of the doubt.

  His absence was a relief, even if he left the door open behind him. That was fine, as Elijah didn’t wish to jeopardize Lillian’s reputation. He only wanted to find out her intentions.

  “Do you know why I’m here?” he asked, unwilling to postpone revealing the purpose of his visit with pleasantries.

  “I might hazard a guess.”

  Why did he like that she didn’t cower or act less than him in any way? He hadn’t realized how often people did so until he was with someone who didn’t. “I must ask what your intentions are regarding my mother and her behavior last night.”

  “Is she well?”

  He frowned, wondering what she was about. “Yes.”

  “I only ask as it seemed as if her reaction to the champagne was...unusual.”

  “Oh?” Was this an attempt to distract him? Some game she was playing?

  “Did you notice anything odd?” she asked.

  “I didn’t partake in any of the refreshments. However, I witnessed you on the terrace with my mother. I found that odd.”

  “I was trying to keep anyone from noticing that she wasn’t acting herself.” Lillian stepped forward, chin high, color in her cheeks. “I searched for you before I resorted to escorting her outside. Where did you disappear to?”

  “I stepped away to make our apologies to the hosts for leaving
so early.”

  “Next time, I’d suggest you worry less about being polite and more about your mother.” Lillian’s anger was evident but not the reason for it. At least, not to him. “She needed you, and you weren’t there.”

  He was surprised to be spoken to in such a manner. “How dare you suggest that I—”

  “Someone with ill purpose might’ve taken advantage of her.” She stepped forward, the intensity of her expression taking him aback. “When someone needs you or believes you care for them, you can’t simply disappear, leaving them alone, wondering what happened to you.”

  “I hardly think—”

  “Isn’t that part of the problem? We don’t think. We aren’t considerate enough.” She gave a little shake of her head, as though annoyed with herself. “Now then, what exactly is it that you want?”

  Elijah wasn’t certain when he’d lost control of the conversation, but he knew beyond a doubt he had. This woman confused him on every possible level, and he wasn’t certain they were still talking about the same thing.

  “Will you keep my mother’s behavior to yourself?” He’d intended to demand that she did, but that wasn’t what happened. What was wrong with him?

  Lillian’s eyes closed briefly, her anger seeming to disappear as quickly as it had come. “Do you know she adds something to her tea?”

  He stilled at her words. How could she have possibly discovered that?

  “Are you surprised at the information or the fact that I know?” She waved a hand in dismissal before he could respond. “It matters not.” She moved closer, arms folded across her chest. “What matters is what you intend to do about it.”

  “My first order of business is to ask that you keep this to yourself.” If he hadn’t been watching closely, he might’ve missed the moment of hesitation. Had she considered somehow using the information?

  “Of course. I like the duchess. I don’t wish to see any harm befall her. Any problems she may or may not have are safe with me.”

  Despite her hesitation, he believed her. Strange, considering he couldn’t bring himself to trust anyone when it came to his mother.

  He’d consider the reasons later. Not now when he felt so off balance. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  Lillian held his gaze, her green eyes clear. No doubt lingered in their depths. Nor did she ask for a favor in return. Instead, she gave the barest of nods. “You have nothing to worry over on that front.”

  Though tempted to touch the smoothness of her cheek, this wasn’t the right time to explore the attraction he felt for her. The topic didn’t encourage it, nor did the presence of her brother just outside the door.

  “Thank you again.” He dipped his head and strode out the door before he did something he’d regret.

  True to his word, Frost stood in the hallway. He raised a brow as Elijah moved toward him.

  “I appreciate you allowing me to speak with Lillian.”

  “All is well?”

  “Indeed. I hope we can discuss your work at a future date.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  Elijah continued out the front door. It wasn’t until he was settled into his carriage, the conveyance well on the way home before the exact words Lillian had said struck him.

  On that front.

  Had he imagined the emphasis she’d placed on that phrase? What could it possibly mean?

  ~*~

  Lillian stood in the library where Elijah had left her, uncertain what to think or feel. Her anger at his suggestion that she might tell people about the duchess had surprised her, which was ridiculous as she’d thought about doing that very thing. She could hardly claim outrage when she’d considered it.

  But she realized she’d also brought her feelings about Helena into the conversation.

  “What was all that about?” Oliver asked as he entered the room, interrupting her thoughts.

  She sighed, still not certain she’d done the ‘right’ thing by agreeing with Elijah’s request. The term seemed so unclear. Right by Helena? Right by the duchess?

  Or right by her attraction to Elijah?

  Surely the latter hadn’t been what led to her actions or lack thereof. Being a good friend was the one thing on which she prided herself. How could she claim that if she didn’t seek vengeance for Helena?

  “I know something Burbridge doesn’t want anyone else to know.”

  Oliver considered her answer for a long moment. His head tilted to one side as if unable to make sense of it. “Then perhaps a better question is are you well?”

  “As well as can be expected.” As he opened his mouth to ask another question, she forced a smile. “Do not concern yourself, Oliver. I promise to advise you if and when I need your assistance.”

  “Lillian, do take care. I’d advise against trifling with the duke.”

  “He shouldn’t trifle with me.”

  “True enough. But I would not see you hurt because your affections were entangled with Burbridge. Or any man, for that matter.”

  Funny but merely a week ago, she would’ve scoffed at the notion of being hurt by the person against whom she sought revenge. Yet it had become a true possibility. Even now, her heart thudded from the encounter. And she had no idea what to do about it.

  “Thank you, dear brother. I appreciate it. Now then, I believe your lovely wife promised to go shopping with me this afternoon. I must prepare. It can be rather exhausting.”

  Oliver gave a mock shudder. “You speak the truth.”

  “We’d love for you to join us.”

  “If only I could.” His expression mocked his words. “But I’m in the middle of a terribly important project at the moment.”

  Lillian laughed. “I’ve heard that excuse before. Surely by now you know we no longer believe you when you say that.”

  “We?”

  “She’s quite right, dear,” Julia said as she entered the library. “We don’t believe a word of it.” She came forward to pat Oliver’s cheek. “But we’ll allow you to use it anyway, at least for today. I fear your presence would only slow our progress. We have a rather long list of items to purchase.”

  Oliver frowned. “Should I be concerned by all this shopping?”

  “The majority of it is for your sister, though I am in need of a few things as well.”

  “London fashions are quite different than what I needed in the country,” Lillian offered.

  “Hmm. I’m sure the two of you will purchase wisely and enjoy the day.”

  “You’re sure you won’t accompany us?” Julia asked.

  Whether she did it out of politeness or to tease Oliver, Lillian wasn’t certain. But his expression was highly entertaining.

  “I must continue with my project,” he said with a smile. “I look forward to hearing a detailed account of the outing upon your return.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Julia shared a knowing look with Lillian. “Shall we be on our way?”

  “I’ll get my cloak and gloves.”

  Lillian drew a deep breath as she walked up the stairs to her bedroom, still trying to settle her emotions after her encounter with Elijah. Her thoughts were muddled as well. Did she continue with her plan for revenge? She certainly hadn’t endeared herself to him during their conversation. But the helpless anger that had bubbled out had surprised her.

  The whole situation was frustrating. Should she simply confront him with what he’d done to Helena and see how he responded? But what would that solve? He might not know of Helena’s death but her telling him wouldn’t teach him a lesson.

  She detested the indecision that filled her.

  Perhaps shopping would take her mind off her worry. Thinking of other things often allowed a solution to come to mind.

  Why did she doubt such would be the case with this problem?

  “It’s going to be a lovely day, don’t you think?” Julia asked as she sat on the tufted bench seat of the carriage.

  “It certainly is.” Lillian was determined to make it so.
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  Julia touched her arm gently. “I must ask if all is well? Oliver told me of the duke’s visit.”

  “He wanted to speak of his mother.” Lillian didn’t want Julia to think the duke was courting her. That had been the last thing on his mind.

  “I hope you realize you can speak to me about anything.”

  “I appreciate that.” But Lillian couldn’t share what she’d discovered about the duchess. Though she trusted Julia with her life, the secret wasn’t hers to share.

  “I must tell you that it feels as if something has been troubling you since your arrival.”

  The sympathy in Julia’s gaze made her want to share everything. The truth about Helena’s death. How much she missed her friend. That Helena had claimed the duke had broken her heart. That Lillian detested the idea of failing at the goal she’d set for herself, much as she seemed to fail at other objectives.

  But she couldn’t bring herself to do so. While she’d started down this path believing her goal justified, the lines were now blurred. Her next move was uncertain. Talking about it didn’t feel as if it would clarify anything, no matter how sympathetic Julia might be.

  But she had to offer some sort of explanation for her behavior.

  “I miss Helena dearly.” Julia and Oliver already knew of her friend’s illness and subsequent death but not the full details behind it. “I feel guilty to be enjoying parties and shopping when she will never again do so.” That was certainly the truth.

  Julia leaned close to hug her. “I can only imagine how difficult this has been. How fortunate that you returned home from your trip prior to Helena’s passing.”

  Lillian nodded, the lump in her throat made talking difficult. “At least I had one last chance to speak with her.” And learn the reason the illness had struck Helena so hard. But Lillian held that back too.

  “Oliver and I thought a change of scenery might help you better adjust to her passing. Not that you’ll ever forget her, but we’re hoping a visit with us might lessen your loss.”

  “It has helped. More than I can say.” In part because it allowed her to pursue her goal of vengeance. “I just have difficulty believing Helena won’t be there when I return home to share all of my adventures.”