Someone yelled from close by, and Kendrick halted before settling back into his seat. The withdrawal was frustrating. Of course, he couldn’t ravish me in public. It would displease his mother.
“What are you not telling me?” I asked, unwilling to allow his earlier evasion to take root.
He heaved a reluctant sigh and squeezed my fingers still intertwined with his. “You are nothing if not persistent.”
“I’m your friend. At least I hope you think of me as one.” My voice had faded at my admission. It was hard for me to admit to feelings in case they were spurned.
“We are friends, Lillian. It isn’t our association that has me saddened. Colt will leave my employ at the end of the week.” Lips pressed in a thin line, he rubbed at his forehead.
My mind screamed no while a knot formed in the pit of my stomach. “But why? He loves, um, he loves being your secretary.” I almost blurted out the truth; Colt loved Kendrick as much as I did. Disclosing that fact wasn’t my declaration to make. “Is it because of me?”
“No, he adores you. He inherited a shipping company and is a wealthy man. He has no need to work for me.” The words drained the happiness from his eyes.
I pressed a kiss to his cheek, my heart aching at the thought of Colt’s leaving. “He will still be your friend—our friend. Our very special friend,” I said, as much to convince myself as him.
“I’m glad I married you.” He exhaled and settled deeper into the seat. “You do your title proud.”
Today I had become the Duchess of Alton. Tonight, I would become his wife in every sense, and our life together would truly begin. As much as his words warmed me, his news dampened my mood, along with another truth. He didn’t love me.
He liked me, admired me, and desired me. But he wasn’t in love with me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lord Kendrick, Duke of Alton
“I would like to toast my new bride, Lady Lillian, Duchess of Alton.” I lifted my Waterford crystal flute glass in the captain’s private dining room on theHMS Bonfireand waited for the remainder of the table’s occupants to do the same.
Lillian sat to my right, my mother to my left. Colt was next to her mother, his perfectly combed hair shining golden in the glow cast from the gas lamps.
“To Lady Lillian,” I said.
“To Lady Lillian,” the others echoed.
A flush stole up Lillian’s pale cheeks as all eyes turned to her. I cursed the impulse to toast her. She acted boldly when we were alone, yet she was clearly uncomfortable even in such intimate company.
“May your union be fruitful.” My mother added with a meaningful stare in my direction. Her color was high, and she was in good humor. The vicar sat next to her, and from the way he often leaned in her direction, he was interested in more than her patronage.
He seemed a decent sort. My mother was oblivious to his flirtation. Before we dispersed for the evening, I would point out his interest to her. If I could get her a beau, perhaps she would worry less about me and enjoy her own life.
“Hear, hear,” Lord Tapper echoed, his words slurred from the generous amount of wine poured throughout the evening. Lady Tapper was much like Lillian, unassuming. They were my in-laws, and I liked them well enough, which made my choice of brides a smart move. With time, I had faith we would create a bond stronger than friendship.
I was unsure about actually falling in love with her. Truth be told, I wasn’t sure if I was capable of it. I’d had many lovers, and while I obsessed over them to a point, it faded once my desires were sated. It was sobering to acknowledge it, even to myself. There were other types of love. While Lillian was a romantic at heart, she was also practical. I made no promises, and she’d accepted my terms.
She drank deep from her glass, her head back. The pearl choker necklace enhanced the slender length of her neck. I would place kisses down that column if we were alone and listen to her tiny sighs of pleasure. I might not love her, but I desired her.
