She wanted to claim responsibility, yet she held her tongue. She found herself at an impasse, because she knew enough of her father’s character—or lack thereof—to suspect that such a reaction on her part was exactly the goal he had in mind. It was a quandary, so she simply waited, even though it went against every fiber of her being.
After a moment, her father addressed her. “Have you nothing to say? Is your betrothed deserving of the blame . . . or are you?” The force of his regard was so powerful it nearly made her blurt out the answer.
Yet she held fast.
“You may believe that which you wish to believe. I’ve learned that it is not for me to involve myself in your affairs,” she answered submissively, trying to play the game.
But the problem with playing any game was that usually those who made them up were also the only ones aware of the rules.
It was a risk, yet she took it willingly. She resisted the urge to hold her breath, and waited.
“I don’t know if you’re actually learning some discretion or if you’re simply a conniving woman. Regardless, I’ll find out the truth of the matter. You’re dismissed.”
Liliah curtseyed low, and forced herself to take sedate steps from the room and down the hall. It wasn’t until she reached her room that she finally relaxed and sighed a deep breath of relief. She wasn’t sure what avenue her father would take, but she was certain that he was just as confused.
Hopefully.
Only time would tell.
And time was always the enemy.
Chapter Twenty-six
Lucas wasn’t sure if he was surprised by the summons, or if he was subconsciously expecting it. Regardless, his curiosity must be satisfied, and to see the inside of Liliah’s estate was an opportunity he couldn’t miss. It was the day of the Morrison ball, and as such he eagerly anticipated seeing Liliah once again.
Bloody hell, he was becoming everything he swore he’d never be again. It was humbling and irritating to think that he was so weak to fall for a woman’s charms once again.
Yet he assured himself that Liliah wasn’t just a woman, she was far more, and in that lay the danger.
But like a moth drawn to the flickering flame, he was helpless to resist the draw toward her, and he found he wasn’t exactly inclined to struggle against the temptation either.
With a tug on his shirt cuffs, he strode from his room to his awaiting carriage in front of his home.
Hopefully it would be a short meeting, since he was scheduled to speak with Heathcliff before the ball. There was some pressing business with the club. With their annual silver masquerade event coming up within the week, one of their larger events, several details needed attending to.
He stepped into his black carriage and the driver snapped the ribbons, causing the four blood bays to spring into action. Lucas adjusted his seat at the movement, and watched the stately homes as the carriage passed by.
It wasn’t a long journey to the duke’s residence at Whitefield House, but it was enough time to give him the opportunity to think about which topics the man might wish to discourse. He was certain that Liliah was the primary topic of interest, yet what avenue did he wish to explore? Certainly he knew that any warnings against Lucas’s interest in his daughter wouldn’t hold any weight. But could the arrogant nature of a man such as the Duke of Chatterwood truly be questioned? No. He decided that the man probably was accustomed to using his title and power to contrive whatever result served him best. He certainly had acted that way in the past, and Lucas had no reason to believe the man had changed at all.
As they approached the estate, he wondered fleetingly if Liliah knew of this meeting, or if she had been kept in the dark about it. As he stepped from the carriage he studied the stately house. Built of white stone, the estate looked royal and bespoke of the wealth of the owner. Red and blue decorated the entrance, the colors of Chatterwood’s dukedom, and Lucas smirked at the ostentatious décor. The butler allowed him entrance, merely stating that the duke was awaiting his arrival, and as Lucas followed him down the wide hall, he scanned his surroundings and dismissed them as just as overstated as their owner.
When they approached a large wooden door that was slightly ajar, Lucas waited while the butler reached for the brass handle. As it swung open slowly, Lucas took a deep breath and suppressed a grin of eager anticipation. For this was one arena where, while the duke surely felt he was in control, Lucas knew he was anything but. Rather, Lucas expected to toy a little with the man, but he was also resolved to hold his tongue before he provoked him to the point of taking out any anger on his daughter. Lucas was all too aware of the man’s temper, and he wasn’t willing to gamble with that temper being unleashed on Liliah. So it was with eager and cautious energy that he strode into the room as he was announced.
“Heightfield.” The duke nodded once as he stood beside his desk, one hand splayed against the wood as he leaned against it.
“Your Grace.” Lucas bowed slightly. “To what do I owe the honor?” He kept a careless manner as he walked into the room. It was quite amusing to see the tick start in Chatterwood’s eye as he watched his approach.
“There is nothing pleasurable about this meeting,” Chatterwood said.
“Ah, and here I thought we were burying the hatchet and all that.” Lucas shrugged, then placed his hands on the back of a chair, facing the duke.
“Not likely,” the duke replied, scoffing.
“Hope springs eternal.” Lucas gave a dismissive wave. “What then did you have in mind? I daresay that there’s such a long list of grievances you and I could both name, that we might be here for a week.”
The duke’s frown deepened. “What aspect of my integrity or character do you wish to malign this time? A week’s worth? To outline your faults we would need the rest of our natural lives. Yet, thankfully, I’m not inclined to wax poetic on all the ways you’re a menace to society. Rather, I’m going to keep this short and direct. Stay the hell away from my daughter.”
Lucas bit his lip to keep from grinning too wide. “Don’t hold anything back, Your Grace.” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand.
