Daring the Duke (The Seven Curses of London Book 7) Page 9

  “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.”

  “Don’t be in a hurry to return home. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.” Julia settled back against the seat. “Your mother is a dear, but she isn’t the most understanding woman I’ve met.”

  Lillian had to chuckle at her words. “Indeed.”

  “I think that in her wish for what’s best for you, she perhaps criticizes more than is necessary.”

  Heat filled Lillian’s face from a complex mixture of emotions—embarrassment that Julia had noticed along with relief that she had. “Did your mother do something similar?”

  “My mother was never happy, and sometimes that spilt over onto my brother and me. Being a caring person means that we often take our loved ones’ remarks to heart. And it gives them power over us that isn’t always for the best. Don’t give away your power, Lillian. You need only remember that you are enough just as you are.”

  I am enough. She blinked back the sudden tears the statement caused. “I suppose I’ve become so involved in being a better daughter, a better friend, a better person, that I don’t always remember that.”

  “I suffer from the same fate, which is why I recognize hints of it in you. But trust me. You are enough just as you are. I confess that I have to tell myself of that as well lest I forget. Oliver mentioned how hard your mother is on you.”

  “I know she wants the best for me, but at times it’s a bit much.”

  “I think you’re already wonderful, and you should do your best to ignore her remarks.” Julia cleared her throat and blinked. “Now that we’re both in tears, it’s time to set aside these deep thoughts and enjoy our day. What do you intend to wear to the Creston’s ball next week? I think you should have something new.”

  “You’re right,” she agreed.

  Lillian closed her eyes for a moment. I am enough. It seemed as if a tightness deep inside her released at the words. The idea of not being responsible for everything going on around her was liberating. To know that she wasn’t the only person who felt this way was a relief as well.

  She turned to face Julia, not ready to change the subject without saying something more. “Thank goodness you and Oliver found each other. I’m grateful you’re part of our family.”

  Julia’s mouth rounded in surprise as more tears filled her eyes. “Oh! That is such a wonderful thing to say. Thank you. I’ve always told you how much I wanted a younger sister. You are a joy to me, and I’m so pleased you’re here. The longer you remain, the happier I’ll be.”

  “I might stay until I’ve worn out my welcome, and you send me packing,” Lillian teased.

  “There is little chance of that, but try your best.”

  Lillian grinned then turned to look out the carriage window. Perhaps this truly was going to be a good day after all.

  Chapter Seven

  “The afflicted patient has not the ability to follow out a train of thought, to explain fully an illusion or perverted sensation, or to perform any act correctly; for he may be one moment rational and the next incoherent...”

  ~The Seven Curses of London

  Elijah paused in the door of the drawing room early that afternoon, pleased to find his mother sitting in her favorite chair, her needlework in her hands rather than in her lap. He would gladly take any sign of progress after her incoherence the previous evening.

  “Good afternoon, Mother.”

  “Elijah.”

  His heart sank when no smile accompanied her greeting. He cursed under his breath, wishing the book he’d purchased on grief had been of more assistance. “I hope the day finds you well?”

  “I fear I continue to feel a bit under the weather.”

  “Oh?” He could relate to that feeling all too well. He’d had his share of it in the past year, though he’d never expected to have this conversation with his mother. The ill effects of overindulging were never pleasant. “Might I ask what you imbibed at the soiree?”

  “That’s the odd part. Two glasses of champagne shouldn’t cause this. Perhaps whatever type it was didn’t agree with me.”

  Lillian’s comment came to mind. Could there have been something unusual about the champagne served at the party? Yet how could anything have been added without the taste being noticeable? “I hope it quickly passes.”

  “As do I.” She set down the needlework to sip her tea.

  While pleased to note she’d completed another petal on the embroidery, he wondered what was in her tea. But he couldn’t bring himself to look or ask. “I wonder if anyone else felt the same as you after partaking of the champagne.”

  “I don’t see how we’ll be able to determine that,” she said.

  “A question here or there might bring results.” No doubt he was grasping for an explanation regarding his mother’s behavior the previous evening. Yet between the information he’d read in The Seven Curses book, his mother’s remark and Lillian’s, was it so difficult to believe?

  “Who would you ask? Lady Albane perhaps?”

  He grimaced at the thought, well aware of the woman’s penchant for gossip. “No purpose could be served in asking her. Maybe there’s someone else.”

  “Few would be willing to admit they drank enough to experience any problems the next day.”

  “I suppose you’re right. But perhaps someone witnessed one or two of the guests acting unusual at the party.”

  “People do love to gossip.”

  “That might be to our advantage in this case.” The more he thought on the matter, the more determined he became.

  Was he latching onto this idea because it was easier to believe than to acknowledge the depth of his mother’s problem?

  Yes. Yes, he was. She’d been drinking more than normal, and her inebriation the previous evening had been disturbing. But there was a chance that the reason for it wasn’t simply overindulging. He needed to have another look at the Seven Curses book to see if the author mentioned an additive used in champagne. There had been so many noted that he’d only skimmed the information.

  “I must be certain to thank Lillian when next I see her,” she said.

  Elijah frowned. “Why?”

  “She was most helpful to me last night, despite my behavior. I had no intention of leaving the refreshment room until she insisted. I don’t know what came over me.”

  Her remarks further convinced Elijah something was amiss with the champagne. But he remained wary of Lillian’s intent. Though she’d given her word, he had no guarantee she’d keep it and hold her silence. “I’m pleased she aided you.”

  She raised her brow as she picked up her needlework again. “Truly? I detect something else in your tone.”

  “I only hope she doesn’t decide to share the experience with anyone. I would hate for your reputation to be harmed in any way.”

  “You worry overmuch, Elijah. What would she have to gain by doing that?”

  That was the missing piece—her motivation. Why would she tell anyone? Then again, why wouldn’t she? He could think of more reasons for her to share his mother’s problem than to keep it secret. He didn’t have the heart to tell his mother that Lillian knew she added something to her tea.

  There was only so much he was willing to discuss, and he’d reached his limit on this particular topic. He changed the subject, ready to put drinking aside, at least for the moment. “What are your plans for the evening?”

  “I believe I’ll stay in. A night at home reading sounds quite appealing. What of you?”

  “I haven’t decided.” Why was it that an image of Lillian immediately came to mind? Seeing her would be a terrible idea. Nor did he have any idea where she’d be. He couldn’t call on her at Viscount Frost’s again. The look Frost had given him earlier made the notion impossible, not to mention the rumors such a call would create.

  “Don’
t remain in on my account,” his mother added. “I’m thinking of having supper in my rooms.”

  “Are you certain? We could at least dine together.”

  “Not this evening. Go do something exciting. Perhaps Viscount Beaumont is available.”

  “He seems to be available less and less. Taking care of his niece and nephew is more time consuming than he expected.”

  “I was sorry to hear of his sister’s passing.”

  “I don’t believe they were especially close, but I’m sure it has been difficult all the same. Watching over two young children has been an adjustment for him.”

  His mother sighed. “Have you ever noticed how easy it is to say things like, ‘He’ll adjust with time.’ But when I think of our own situation, such platitudes make me want to throw something.”

  His chest tightened at her words. He hated knowing she continued to hurt so much. Yet why should it surprise him when his feeling of loss still stole his breath?

  Unable to resist, he knelt beside her chair and took her hand. “It makes me feel the same.” Then he leaned forward to hold her. He’d already offered every word of comfort he could think of and knew it wasn’t enough. The knowledge cracked his heart, but he had to continue trying.

  ~*~

  Lillian galloped across Hyde Park the next morning with a footman behind her, anxious to clear her head after a restless night. And trying to pretend she didn’t hope the duke would make an appearance. The chances were slim.

  Did she even want him to?

  Yes.

  No.

  Maybe?

  With a shake of her head, she urged her mare faster. Though her behavior was unladylike and not at all the thing, the hour was early and few others were about to witness her wild gallop across the park.

  She had to do something to rid herself of the angst she felt. She no longer knew where her loyalty should lie. With Helena? With the duchess? With the duke?

  In truth, they each held her sympathy, leaving her fractured and uncertain of how to proceed.

  A night full of strange dreams had left her out of sorts this morning. Riding seemed the perfect solution. Oddly enough, it was the idea of seeing the duke that lifted her restless mood. She had no idea what to make of that.

  Breathless, she drew the mare to a walk, loving the feeling of freedom galloping gave her, however brief.

  “Well done, my lady.” The deep timbre of the voice had her heart leaping as she turned in the saddle to see Elijah riding toward her from a nearby copse of trees. “I thought for a moment you had no intention of stopping.”

  She dipped her head since she couldn’t curtsy. “Good morning, your grace. I have difficulty resisting a good gallop.” A completely different reason now caused her breathlessness.

  “Lovely way to awaken the senses.” His demeanor seemed quite different than the previous day. Did that mean he no longer suspected she’d spill his secret?

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Would you do me the honor of riding with me?” he asked.

  “I’d like that.” She hesitated then followed her intuition. “But only if you can keep up.” With a grin, she turned her horse and urged it into a gallop back the way she’d come, surprising the duke and the footman.

  A glance over her shoulder showed Elijah in pursuit, a matching grin on his face. The footman rode at a more sedate pace.

  With a laugh, she leaned over the horse’s neck, urging the mare faster before at last sitting upright and drawing the steed to a walk once again.

  Elijah arrived at her side a moment later, his steed prancing and jerking at the reins. “You’re quite the horsewoman.”

  “Thank you. It seems you know how to do more than merely trot across the park as well.”

  “I’m out of practice compared to you.” His smile caught her breath.

  Though it was on the tip of her tongue to inquire as to how his mother fared, she hesitated, not wanting to disrupt the moment. The situation seemed different this morning, perhaps because she felt different. Or perhaps it was he who’d changed. Introducing the topic of his mother meant going back to the awkwardness of yesterday. Obviously, since he was here and in a fine mood, his mother was well. For the moment, that was enough.

  “Shall we try again?” she asked.

  With a nod and a sparkle in his eyes that sent tingles along her body, he kneed his horse, holding back just enough on the reins to allow her to catch up. They galloped some distance, and Lillian reveled in the ride as well as sharing the pleasure with someone who enjoyed it as much as she did.

  For this brief time, it was easy to set aside her worries and uncertainties and focus on being. I am enough. Julia’s words from yesterday played through her mind, making her feel whole again, along with the sensation of the wind and the thunder of the horses’ hooves.

  And the duke riding beside her.

  Elijah. She eased back on her mare’s reins as a shiver coursed over her. It felt as if she’d crossed some invisible barrier in her feelings toward him, and she wasn’t certain she liked it.

  He slowed his steed as well, looking at her with curiosity as if wondering why she’d slowed.

  Now she wished she hadn’t as this pace allowed for conversation. No words seemed appropriate for how she felt so she said nothing. She kept her gaze on the scenery, taking in the lush greenery and trying not to overthink the moment.

  “A perfect morning.” Elijah’s quiet words added to the intimacy.

  She smiled and turned to him, ready to agree.

  But his gaze rested on her with such intensity that she wondered if he was somehow including her in his remark.

  “It’s quite beautiful.” She wrenched away her focus to take in the scenery once again, hoping he’d think the color in her cheeks was nothing more than a result of the fast-paced ride.

  He gestured toward the Serpentine. “Shall we walk along the riverbank?”

  The flutters in her stomach demanded she refuse. “That would be lovely.”

  He dismounted, handed his reins to her footman, and came forward to assist her. His gloved hands tightened around her waist and to her surprise, he lifted her easily to the ground. That sparkling gaze rested on her again, his hands still firm on her waist.

  The flutters changed to a flurry.

  How could she possibly believe he’d deliberately hurt Helena? Not this man who looked at her with such tender regard.

  At last, he released her and turned toward the water, offering his elbow. The footman remained behind with their horses.

  “It’s nice to see the sun for a time, however briefly.”

  “Though it rarely lasts for long,” she added, drawing a breath to settle her emotions.

  “Spending a morning here in the park reminds me that I should take the time to visit my country estate more often.”

  “Why don’t you?” Curiosity guided her question.

  “Several business matters here require my attention.” His solemn tone suggested a weightier reason than the one he’d given.

  She held her silence, respecting his need for privacy. If he’d suspected her of divulging his mother’s drinking, he certainly wouldn’t trust her with details of whatever it was that kept him in London.

  He cleared his throat, and she was certain he’d change the subject. “Adjusting to the duties of my title has not been the smooth transition I expected. I’m finding a few items my father...disregarded.”

  She turned to study him. “That must be difficult to discover with grief still heavy in your heart. From the things I’ve heard, your father was well liked and respected by his peers.”

  “I thought he could do no wrong.” Burbridge shook his head. “I suppose that’s why this has been such a challenge. I’ve reviewed reports and correspondence several times, certain I must be mistaken.” He looked at her as though taken aback at what he’d revealed. “Why is it that you’re so easy to speak with?”

  “I’ve been told I’m a good listener,” she said, smilin
g.

  “Indeed, you are. I’m sorry you didn’t come to London sooner.”

  Her heart gave an extra jump at his words. “Father prefers the more relaxed schedule of the country. Oliver is more like him than either of them realize. Crowds are something to be endured rather than celebrated, in Father’s opinion. Oliver has taken that to more of an extreme.”

  “And your mother?”

  She hesitated, for she rarely told anyone about the complicated relationship she had with her mother. Yet since Elijah had shared something personal with her, she wanted to do the same. “I think she likes the country more as she is the queen of her domain there. She enjoys the attention. I think she likes the control as well. Many of the social events are set around her calendar. She likes everything to be...perfect.”

  “Perfection is difficult to obtain under the best of circumstances.”

  “I love my mother dearly. But when she shines a light on my faults, or rather, areas to improve as she likes to call them, it’s hard to feel as if I do anything right. All I can see are the problems.” She looked toward the water to hide her expression. Had he heard the tremble in her voice? She hoped not. It sounded rather silly when she said it out loud. People endured serious problems in this world, and here she was complaining about having her faults pointed out.

  Elijah drew her to a halt and shifted, so they faced each other. She forced herself to look at him, bracing herself for a look of derision at the very least.

  He studied her expression. “Our parents’ expectations hold more sway over us than we might like. Good and bad. The idea that we’re not good enough in their eyes is disheartening, especially after we’ve become adults.”

  The breath she hadn’t realized she was holding released in a whoosh. “I don’t know why I allow her remarks to bother me when I know she wants what’s best for me.”

  “That only makes their thoughts matter more, doesn’t it?”

  She blinked back sudden tears. First Julia and now Elijah. How unexpected. To think anyone understood, let alone two such different people, was a gift.