One of whom wasn’t of the feminine variety.
And was likely her father’s hired guardian.
The lovely day took a dark turn.
Irritated at this complication, Lucas debated how best to proceed. He opened the carriage door and stepped down, nodding to the driver. He strode toward Liliah. Her pace was sedate, as if savoring each moment in the park. A gentle grin tipped her lips as she glanced up at the sky, then traced her gaze down the tall trees, unaware of Lucas’s intense study of her person.
The maid behind her seemed ill at ease as she glanced at the footman, and Lucas grew suspicious himself. The footman’s nose was slightly crooked, not overly obvious, but anyone who had engaged in fisticuffs would notice. He wondered where the duke had found the man.
Disregarding him, Lucas wound his way around the path so that he would catch Liliah’s eye in a more natural way, rather than have it appear as if he was intentionally seeking her out.
He walked around a hedge and took the path she was already on, slowing his pace to appear unhurried. He lifted his gaze upward to study the foliage on the tall oak and beech trees. The breeze rustled the leaves and he forced a calm that replaced the air of excited expectation that lingered in his blood.
He purposely kept his gaze from the trio in front of him, instead shifting his regard from the trees to the Serpentine. A small gasp made his lips twitch in amusement before he flicked his gaze forward, meeting Liliah’s wide blue eyes. Her expression was surprised, then shifted to a knowing amusement.
Whatever Meyer had said was cryptic enough that she clearly hadn’t expected to see Lucas.
Her approval of his presence, however, was evident by the grin that spread across her beautiful features.
“Why, if it isn’t Lady Liliah.” Lucas bowed, then reached for her hand.
A soft blush illuminated her features as he grasped her offered hand and kissed it.
“Lord Heightfield,” she replied, her gaze amused. “What a surprise and delight.”
“You stole my very thoughts, my lady,” he answered, studying her features. “It’s quite a lovely day, is it not?”
“Quite. The fresh air is a welcome . . . distraction.” Liliah spoke with a wry expression, and Lucas’s memory shifted to her hasty exit from the ball last night.
“I trust you’re doing well.” He spoke softly, studying her eyes for the answer her lips couldn’t give.
“Well enough, my lord. Thank you for asking.” She gave a brave nod, and Lucas wondered just how often she’d chosen to see the joy in life, when it was a difficult task. And how often he’d chosen to do the opposite.
“Of course.”
“And how are you?” Liliah asked, tilting her head, her gaze flickering to his hand grasping hers.
“My day is improving by the moment,” he answered with a flirtatious wink, not releasing her. “Would you care to join me for a stroll?” He shifted her hand to his arm, anticipating her acceptance.
Liliah grinned knowingly at his actions and fell into step beside him, even as the footman and maid silently followed. “Interesting company you’re keeping,” Lucas commented, glancing behind them.
“Ah, yes. It’s quite frustrating, and I’m quite certain that my every move will be reported with alacrity, yet I’ll face that problem when it comes.” Liliah spoke with an irritated tone.
“I see.” And Lucas did, all too well. Anger simmered under his skin as he considered just how Chatterwood treated his daughter like a prisoner under house arrest. And he was quite certain Liliah didn’t disclose the full extent of her father’s control.
And if there was one aspect of her father he understood all too well, it was the desire for control.
For how it made one feel powerful, sovereign, capable.
How often had he used his love of control as an excuse?
It shamed him to think he had that character flaw in common with the Duke of Chatterwood.
“You’re quite pensive, my lord,” Liliah commented, pulling his thoughts back into line.
“Just reflective,” Lucas replied quickly, offering her a warm smile, hoping to alleviate whatever tension his silence may have created. He made the effort to enjoy each stolen moment.
For that is exactly what their time was—stolen.
