The contrast could not have been more stark.
Chapter Nineteen
Later that evening, Lillian found a moment alone with Rosanne in the corner of the drawing room.
"He did well," Rosanne said quietly, her eyes bright with something that looked like pride. "I have never seen him like that; actually engaging with people, staying present instead of retreating behind his title."
"He did." Lillian's voice was soft. "I did not expect, that is, I had hoped, but I did not truly believe..."
"That he could change?" Rosanne smiled. "Neither did I, if I am honest. He has been the same for so long; cold, controlled, keeping everyone at a distance. I had almost given up hope that he would ever be different."
"What changed him, do you think?"
"You did." Rosanne took her hand, squeezing gently. "You showed him that there was something worth changing for. Someone worth fighting for." She paused. "I know he hurt you, Lillian. I know you have every reason to doubt him. But what I saw tonight, the way he stood beside you, supported you, made space for your voice, that is not the brother I grew up with. That is someone new. Someone better."
Lillian nodded slowly, her eyes finding Daniel across the room. He was deep in conversation with Lord Hartwell now, their discussion appearing to center on some agricultural matter or other. As she watched, he said something that made Lord Hartwell laugh; actually laugh, with genuine amusement.
The Duke of Wyntham, making people laugh. It seemed impossible, and yet there it was.
"I want to believe," she said quietly. "But I am afraid."
"Of course you are. Anyone would be." Rosanne's grip on her hand tightened. "But Lillian, if you spend your whole life being afraid, you will miss the very things that make life worth living. Trust me. I speak from experience."
Lillian looked at her friend; this young woman who had spent years battling her own fears, her own anxieties, her own conviction that she was not enough. And she understood, perhaps for the first time, that courage was not the absence of fear. It was the willingness to act despite fear.
Daniel had shown that courage tonight. Perhaps it was time for her to show it as well.
***
She found him in the library.
It was late—most of the guests had retired, and the house had settled into the quiet rhythms of approaching night. Lillian had claimed a headache as her excuse for leaving the drawing room early, but instead of returning to her room, she had slipped through the corridors to this place where she knew he would be.
He was standing at the window, looking out at the darkened grounds, and he did not turn when she entered, but she saw his shoulders relax, as though he had been waiting for her.
"You should not be here," he said quietly. "Lady Smith was quite specific about propriety."
"Lady Smith is asleep. And I needed to speak with you."
He turned then, and she saw the exhaustion in his face—the strain of maintaining his composure through hours of social interaction, the effort of being present when every instinct must have been screaming at him to retreat.
"You did well tonight," she said. "In the drawing room. The conversation about tenant management."
"I did not do anything remarkable. I simply told the truth. That your knowledge is superior to mine, and that the room should hear your perspective rather than Crane's nonsense."
"That is remarkable, Daniel. More remarkable than you know." She moved closer, close enough to see the slight tremor in his hands, the way he was struggling to maintain his composure. "Edward would never have done what you did. He would have rephrased my ideas as his own, addressed them to the gentlemen as though I had not spoken. He did precisely that, several times, during my stay here."
Daniel's expression darkened. "I had heard that he was courting you. I did not know..."
"It does not matter now. What matters is the contrast." Lillian reached out and took his hand, feeling the coldness of his fingers, the way they trembled against hers. "You asked me what I wanted. You asked me to tell you what I needed. This is it, Daniel. This, what you did tonight, is what I need."
"I cannot promise to be perfect." His voice was rough, strained. "I will make mistakes. I will struggle with instincts that have governed me for many years. There will be times when I want to retreat, when the walls seem like the only safe option."
"I know."
"But I will try." He tightened his grip on her hand, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. "Every day, for the rest of my life, I will try to be the man you deserve. I will fail sometimes, perhaps often, but I will never stop trying."
Lillian felt tears spill down her cheeks, and she did not try to stop them. "That is all I ask. That you try. That you stay present, even when it is difficult. That you do not retreat behind your walls and leave me standing alone on the other side."
