“Sir Colt,” Lord Tapper accepted the introduction with curiosity in his regard. Lady Lillian had gotten her eyes from him. He seemed like a jovial sort with brown curly hair touched with grey and muttonchops. “Please come in. Can I offer you a glass of claret?”
“That would be most welcome.” I took the seat he showed me and tried to settle my anxieties. From the sheen of moisture on Tapper’s forehead, he was just as edgy. Hosting a duke was no minor accomplishment, even for an earl. Colt stood behind me, his hand on the back of the chair. I was glad to have his moral support. The earl would be easy. It was Lady Lillian I was worried about.
Lord Tapper motioned for a footman to pour the wine and sat opposite me. “I was most pleased to hear you moved in next door. Your mother and my wife are great friends. I hope we will be as well.”
“I’m of a similar mind.” I flattened my palm on the wool of my trousers. The time was at hand. I accepted the claret from the servant and sipped at the ruby liquid. While I waited for the man to finish passing out the beverages, I couldn’t help but wonder the extent to which Tapper had shamed his son simply because his sister applied rouge and powder to his face. My father had been unduly critical of me at every turn. I rarely, if ever, sought his company. I intended to do things differently with my own children. I would embrace their youthful exuberance instead of trying to stifle it. “Lord Tapper, this isn’t a social call. I would like to ask for Lady Lillian’s hand in marriage.”
Tapper paused in mid-drink, eyes widening. With a noticeable gulp, he choked, the wine sloshing from his glass. Coltmoved to the man’s side, took his glass, and slapped him on the back.
“Are you all right, My Lord?” I asked, watching his face redden from his coughing fit. His expression would be comical if the situation weren’t dire.
He held up a hand, pulled the handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped at his watering eyes. “I just swallowed wrong. I’ll be fine. You wish to marry, Lillian? My Lillian?”
I shared an exasperated look with Colt. She said everyone underestimated her, and she was right. In her father’s defense, his daughter had been on the shelf for seven years with no prospects. To have a duke ask for her hand would be a jolt to any parent. “Yes, I do.”
“I wasn’t aware you were acquainted with her until you called.” He mopped at the sweat on his forehead and grinned, his entire face transformed by the action. “Of course, you have my blessing. Her mother will be most pleased.”
The outcome of my offer was never in doubt. It wasn’t an arrogant assumption but one of common sense. Asking her father was a formality. The next hurdle would be the most difficult. “Thank you, My Lord. If you wouldn’t mind, I would like to speak with Lady Lillian.”
“Of course, of course.” He stood and shook my hand once more. “It is my honor.”
He led the way from his study to the drawing-room where I first met Lady Lillian. Ever present, Colt fell into step behind me. There was a reason I introduced him as I had. I wanted him near, not relegated to the servants’ quarters. He was the son of a gentleman. Many younger sons had to find employment; Colt was no different.
The countess was in the same chair she occupied before with her maid in attendance. Lady Lillian was nowhere to be seen.“My dearest wife,” Tapper moved to her side and took her hand. “Alton has asked for Lillian’s hand.”
Lady Tapper blinked several times, her mouth falling open. She stared at me as if I was a ghost come to haunt her. “Oh, dear. Oh, dear.” Lady Tapper clenched her husband’s hand.
He winced. “Where is Lillian?”
“She is in her room. Shall I fetch her?” the maid asked.
“Yes, but say nothing to her. Simply tell her I need her,” Lady Tapper said, her voice shrill in her excitement.
The maid left in a rush. I introduced Colt for something to do. I had disrupted the entire household with my proposal, which was to be expected. Marriage wasn’t to be taken lightly. I still had reservations, but the result would be a wife who truly understood me.
“Have you told your mother yet?” Lady Tapper asked, lips turned down. “I had lunch with her, and she said nothing.”
“I haven’t spoken to Lady Lillian yet. Once I have her acceptance, I’ll share the news with my mother. Until then, I would appreciate it if we kept this between us.” Impatience sent my toe to tapping. I would have the honor of telling my mother once the formalities were over. An engagement meant no more awkward dinners with women like the debutante. The girl’s father had hinted multiple times what a brilliant match we would make. I begged to differ. Once I claimed Lillian’s hand, that part of my life would be over. No more tireless courting under the scrutiny of everyone in London.
Colt cleared his throat and nudged me with his elbow. I glanced up and spied Lady Lillian coming into the room. She was dressed in a skirt and white shirtwaist. Her hair was down, a long braid falling over her shoulder. She faltered when she spied Colt and me, her cheeks flaming.
“Lady Lillian, a pleasure to see you again,” I said, bowing to her. My nervousness increased, along with a touch of excitement at seeing her again.
“Your Grace,” she said on a breath. “What are you doing here? I mean, I wasn’t expecting you.”
“No, I’m sure you were not. It is warm today. Would you do me the honor of taking a stroll around your garden?” I had to get her alone. From the way she skimmed her gaze over the room’s occupants, she realized something was going on because her mother was crying and her father couldn’t stop gaping at me.
“Yes, of course, I will.” She turned on her heel, leading me to the back garden door. The calmness in her manner bolstered my earlier trepidation. Often, the idea of doing something proved more intimidating than the act. A servant opened the door for us, glancing from me to Lady Lillian with barely concealed delight. The maid might have said nothing to Lady Lillian, but it hadn’t stopped her from speaking to the other staff. It was more than apparent that they liked her, which was promising unto itself.
A chill wind whipped at my hair, and rain's heavy scent hung in the air. It was a far cry from warm but I needed an excuse to see her in private. She crossed her arms against the chill and moved deeper into the flowering plants, her entire frame trembling. “Did you tell them?” she asked, her voice strained.
Understanding rushed through me, along with remorse. My request was somewhat convoluted, and she’d misconstrued why I had asked for a private audience. “No, I didn’t.”
“Oh, thank goodness. Why was Mother crying?” She dropped her arms and exhaled, flexing her hands before bringing them to her chest. The shirtwaist was sheer at the top, and I could see the line of her chemise. “Wait, did something happen to your mother?”
“My mother is in good health. As for your mother, I’m afraid that is my fault. I came to ask your father for your hand in marriage,” I blurted in a rush, trying to get the words out before they failed me. If she said yes, my entire life would change, as would hers. My feet planted firmly on the grass, I waited for her answer.
“Marriage?” She tilted her head and swallowed, a glazed look in her eyes. A sheen of moisture dotted her forehead, and she scrubbed at it with her fingertips, her lithe form swaying.
