The ducal stance was somewhat tempered by the fact that he wasn’t wearing any boots.
“You’ll require protection upon my death.” His expression was solemn, somber. “There are provisions I can put in place for you that cannot be enacted for my sister. The original title and ducal estates have numerous stipulations and requirements, both of which I’ve unfortunately become all too familiar with over the past two months. If my sister has not reached her majority, she will have no choice but to become a ward of the new heir. Hopefully, that will be my son. If the heir hasn’t reached his majority, Bernadette becomes a ward of the widow. If I pass without an heir apparent, my widow is to be granted a life estate deed of the dower house in addition to a small townhouse in Mayfair—as the original will reads, but I’ll want all of it spelled out clearly in the marriage contract so that there is never any doubt. In case…”
“In case we fail.”
He clenched his jaw. “Yes.”
It was a dismal thought. If they failed, that would mean he would be gone—dead.
“We will not fail.” It was a stupid promise to make but Lillian only wanted to reassure him. She barely knew him—in fact she knew him not at all. But he was dying. “Your Grace,” she added, cringing inwardly at the address.
“Christian. Will you call me Christian? Or Warwick, if you prefer.”
“Christian.” Lillian met his gaze. She was going to be intimate with this man all too soon. Waiting to know him better wasn’t really an option and might defeat the purpose of this entire endeavor. “And you must call me Lillian.”
He stared at her so hard that for a moment Lillian thought that he was going to call the entire arrangement off.
Were they both insane?
But then he exhaled loudly and stepped back.
“I look forward to seeing you in the morning, and I mean that literally,” he smiled wryly, “as I shall be wearing my spectacles then. I take it you’re staying at Crawford House.”
“Yes.” Of course, he and every other person amongst society had known her stepfather—or presumed to know him. He’d presented one face to the public and an altogether different one to his family.
“We’ll collect you at six. I realize it’s terribly early but…”
“The earlier we leave town, the better.” Her chest tightened as she mentally began considering the lies she’d have to tell. Was she actually going to go through with this?
Staring into the depths of his eyes, she wondered if he was as dumbfounded by their agreement as she was.
He was nothing like any of the gentlemen she knew. She found him attractive, very much so. She had thought so upon their first meeting.
But that was not what any of this was about and she would do well to remember it. They could be friends. It would be better if they were friends even, but nothing more than that.
“I’ll await you on the street.” She’d have to get past Mr. Warren, her mother’s butler, but that was the least of her concerns. “With my maid and a small valise.” She could send for the rest of her belongings after.
“I’ll have the duchess’ chamber readied while we’re away. As for the rest—” he cleared his throat, “we’ll decide as we go on. I don’t expect you to do anything… I’ll not presume… until you are ready.” Again, it struck her that this man, Christian, her future husband, certainly did not act like any duke she’d ever known. He was kind and humble and… dying.
Something in her throat thickened again, at the reminder. “But we should not wait overly long,” she confirmed.
He smiled apologetically. “No, I would rather not.”
Lillian dropped her gaze to the floor, acutely feeling the awkwardness of this aspect of their arrangement.
“Until tomorrow then.” His voice sounded gruffer than it had before.
He then opened the door and assisted her down the front steps.
“Lillian.” His voice halted her before she could walk away.
In answer, she turned and raised her brows.
“I’ll understand if you aren’t outside in the morning. I’ll understand if you change your mind.”
“And you?”
He looked for all the world like a man without a choice. “I’ll be there.”
As she walked away, she glanced over her shoulder one last time and saw that he remained on the sidewalk, exactly as she’d left him.
Staring after her, barefoot, his dog at his side.
She quickened her steps, almost as though she could run away from the decision she’d just made. Or simply because she felt anxious and rushed due to the nature of the affair. He was dying and she had no idea how much time he had to live.
She would not change her mind.
Lillian had never been a fickle person and wasn’t about to begin now. That being said, rather than rush directly home, she marched in the direction of her friend Olivia’s house. Although the daughter of a viscount, and a lady in her own right, Olivia Fellowes, the countess of Kingsley, wasn’t a typical London elite. In addition to being a lovely person, she was practically a relation, as Olivia was Louella’s older sister. And Louella was married to Lillian’s stepbrother, the Duke of Crawford.
As many members of the ton had already deserted London for the summer, Lillian had been more than grateful when she had learned that the couple was staying on through September.
Lord Kingsley and Olivia were overseeing one of Crawford’s recent projects: establishing an unprecedentedly large foundling hospital on the southern edge of White Chapel. Both Olivia and Louella had a particular fondness for the orphans of the world, and upon realizing the need, had enlisted the support of their titled husbands.
Lillian’s mother had donated to the cause, saying it was a worthy project, but frowned upon Lillian’s desire to become more involved. She’d insisted it wasn’t heathy to be exposed to such suffering and poverty.
Perhaps after her marriage, Lillian could take on a more active role like she’d wished…
Lillian climbed the steps Kingsley’s townhouse and sounded the knocker.
Half an hour later, Lillian knew she’d made the right decision in coming here.
Sitting in a comfortable drawing room, taking tea and occasionally staring out the large window that overlooked the park, Lillian explained the details of the arrangement she’d made that morning.
Olivia sat quietly and listened without interrupting, not even to ask a single question. She simply hummed or nodded occasionally. Normally, Lillian didn’t notice how one of Olivia’s violet eyes drifted independent of the other, but she was especially aware of the girl’s response to what she had to say and watched closely for any hint that she was thinking Lillian had gone mad.
“…and so I told him I’d meet him in the morning, along with Becky. Having finally revealed the entire scheme, Lillian fell silent.
“I don’t suppose you were overly pleased when he revealed himself to be a duke.” Olivia tucked a golden curl behind one ear and pinched her lips, unsuccessfully trying to hold back a grin. “And since you’re still considering the offer, I’ll guess that he is incredibly handsome.”
He was. Lillian couldn’t deny it. “He has a dog,” she inserted, “whom he seems to adore.”