Page 3 of Duke in Darkness

“Oh dear?” mocked Georgiana, her headstrong youngest sister. “Is that all you can say? Father might be safe from debtor’s prison, but we certainly aren’t, and your contribution is oh dear?”

“Come now, Gigi,” said Pippa, the middle sister, forever the peacemaker. “We’re all a little lost for words.”

“I’m not,” snapped Xavier, Pippa’s twin and heir to the earldom, known as Viscount Northam. “If this gets out, I’m bloody finished—”

“Northam,” said the dowager Lady Kingsford, the matriarch they called Grandmother never Granny, in her low, icy tone. “That is not a tone or word one uses in the presence of ladies. Have you learned nothing?”

“Beg pardon,” he ground out, running a hand through his distinctive Nash-gold hair. “But I had a chance of marrying someone I actually liked. Now I’ll have to go cap in hand to the heiresses, although being a viscountess isn’t much of a prize. The ones with the large fortunes expect to be a duchess. Or a marchioness at least.”

Lilian winced and shifted uncomfortably on her high-backed chair. Even as a little girl she’d dreamed of being a wife and mother, but Xavier hadn’t even reached his majority, and still had plenty of wild oats to sow. The thought of her usually cheerful, head-shakingly roguish brother forced into a too-early marriage was unendurable. “What if…” she began.

“Yes, Lilian?” asked her father from where he sat behind his carved oak desk, pausing in mopping his florid brow to give her an encouraging smile.

“What if I wed a wealthy gentleman who agreed to pay your debts as part of the marriage settlement? With my dear Exton gone, I have no expectations of love.”

Grandmother stood and clapped her hands once. “Northam, Pippa, Georgiana, leave us, please. Your father and I need to speak privately with Lilian.”

Xavier raised an eyebrow, and her sisters shot her quizzical looks as they departed, but she could only shrug. Not when she had no idea what this particular matter might be. Yet if it couldn’t be said in front of them, it would probably be something to make her scream into her pillow later in the evening. And she’d done quite enough of that since the cruel Fates had torn her fiancé from her.

Lilian delicately cleared her throat. “What is it you wished to tell me, Grandmother?”

The old woman paused and smoothed a non-existent crease in her lilac gown before sitting down again. She had remained in half-mourning since the death of her husband thirty years ago, and still refused to wear any color but lilac or gray. “Your impending marriage.”

“My what?”

“Good heavens, gel. You’ll catch flies with that vulgarly open mouth.”

Taking a deep breath to quell her shock, Lilian attempted a smile. “Beg pardon. I didn’t know you and Father were, ah, interviewing prospective husbands for me.”

“Well, I wasn’t,” said Lord Kingsford hesitantly. “On account of the esteem you held for your late fiancé. Wanted you to find someone else you liked in time—”

Her grandmother snorted. “That is quite enough, Kingsford. Lilian is twenty-two and your coffers are empty. We cannot afford any more dilly-dallying. Of course she must marry, and to a wealthy peer. It is her duty to her family, and Nash women always do their duty. Is that not correct, Lilian?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, thanks to my connections and influence, your father has an offer of marriage for you. If it is accepted, we will be connected to one of England’s pre-eminent families, and this financial unpleasantness will vanish. It is imperative that it happens swiftly, because rumors are already swirling in certain circles. You wouldn’t allow us to be publicly humiliated, or destroy any potential happiness for your sisters and brother…would you?”

An icy shiver shot down Lilian’s back, and suddenly the library seemed a great deal smaller and darker. There was something altogether not right about this audience. Her father had bowed his head to avoid meeting her gaze, and Grandmother’s words had held an edge that in another person might be called trepidation.

“Who has offered for me, Father?” she asked, forcing the words past a dry throat.

Lord Kingsford eventually looked up, his smile strained. “It’s a splendid match, my dear. You’ll be top of the tree. Excellent address, jewels fit for a princess, a generous allowance that will double after the birth of an heir and spare…you’ve always desired a nursery full of children, here is your chance. You’ll never want for anything, I promise.”

Lilian swallowed hard.

Indeed, she had always wanted to be a mother, but it was so very difficult thinking of a family with anyone other than Exton. It had been a dream come true when he proposed, so elegant and gentlemanly, an aristocrat to the tips of his toes. The way he’d expertly twirled her around a ballroom, taken her for garden strolls, ices at Gunter’s and several carefully chaperoned curricle outings in Hyde Park…well, she’d been smitten. After their betrothal she’d been rather less smitten by a shockingly candid conversation about her future duties, and his mistress. It seemed Exton would keep that nameless courtesan for pleasure, while marital relations with his wife would be strictly for the creation of children. The thought of sharing the man she loved with another woman had stung terribly, but surely if she obeyed Exton’s every instruction and welcomed him warmly to her bed, he would discard his mistress.

So she had nodded gravely. Exton had beamed, patted her hand, and told her she was born to be a duchess. The relief at his words had been tremendous. Once upon a time, she’d been an awkward moppet similar in nature to her wicked late mother, a frivolous girl who loved dressing up, gardening, warm hugs, and asking far too many questions. Fortunately Grandmother’s lectures and canings had broken her of those terrible character flaws, and Exton had been her reward.

But to be top of the tree as Father said, she needed another duke. Who could possibly replace Exton? There were hardly a plethora of unwed dukes in the realm. Unless they thought to send her abroad?

“Who, Father?” she repeated, her anxiety growing.

Grandmother smiled thinly. “The new Duke of Exton.”

“What?” The cry escaped before she could swallow it down. “No!”

“Gracious. Are there crows flying by? How unbecoming, Lilian. I am very disappointed in you.”