Wild Lily (Those Notorious Americans Book 1)(93)

She took the staircase down to breakfast the morning after their arrival. She’d slept soundly and alone. Since Julian had appeared in front of her in Ireland, they’d not shared the same bed. He did not ask. She did not offer. There was much that must be said and done if they were ever again to be lovers.

She strolled into the dining room, the footman Finch fighting a smile at her appearance, the ancestor on the wall above him still stuffy and much too pretty for his own good. And at the head of the table sat her husband in his morning jacket and soft white shirt. The handsome devil she’d married made her heart ache with desire.

Julian stood, pushed back his chair and pulled out her own.

She hated the formality of it, but she understood his need to do it.

Finch poured her coffee and Julian regained his seat, then folded his morning paper.

“Did you sleep well?”

“I did.” Our big bed is the most wonderful furnishing in this house. She grinned at her own thought.

“What? You must share.”

She rolled her eyes at him and cast a sideways look at Finch. “Never.”

“Would you like the paper?”

“Not today. Maybe not for a long time. I enjoyed being blissfully ignorant of newspapers while I was away.”

“Finch, please give me a selection from the sideboard, would you?” She enjoyed simply sitting here, looking at the house through the prism of her Irish perspective.

She and Julian remained quiet while the footman served her.

“Thank you, Finch,” Julian said. “I’ll ring when we’re finished.”

On their journey, she had asked about the health of her own family. Julian had recounted his conversation with her father and she had written to him to assure him of her health and safety, as well as her return to England with Julian. In that week, she not asked about his family. Now, she felt ready to learn.

“How is Elanna? Have you seen her?” She sipped her coffee.

“Once a few weeks ago. She is the same.”

“Unhappy.”

“And resentful of her need to marry.”

“We could hope Carbury changes.”

Julian’s mouth turned down. “He is not motivated.”

As a topic too close to their own circumstances, Lily let that pass and put her attention to her eggs. “And your mother?”

“I have not seen her. Have not called upon her and she has not come here.”

At another impasse, she let that subject slide. “And what of the tenants who were ill? With the warmer weather, I hope they’ve improved.”

“They have. I thought after we finish eating, we’d go visit them. What do you say?”

Minutes later, they left the house to walk down the lane. Along the way, she saw Docker and his two sons working in the stable block.

“I’d like to say hello,” she told Julian, took a few paces to the right and waved at the men. “Good morning, gentlemen. Nice to see you.”

All three doffed their hats and welcomed her.

Docker cast Julian a sideways look. “Now, Your Grace?”

“Later, thank you, Docker. We’re off to the cottages. You understand.”

“Aye, sir.”

Lily wrinkled a brow. “What are you up to?”

“I told the men,” Julian said, “you might wish to ride later.”

“I just might,” she said, and struck up a conversation with the three about the health of the horses.

“When shall we ride?” she asked Julian when they had bid the men good day and continued down the lane. “After sunset?”



“Of course.” He nodded. His gift waiting for her in the stables was not as grand as the one he hoped she would like down in the village and he was impatient for her to see it.

There, eleven of his tenants lined the lane to greet her. She’d won a place in their hearts when she’d nursed them and they hadn’t ever had such assistance from his mother nor, he would guess, from any other Duchess of Seton. Lily greeted them by name, something he was learning to do.

“We’re glad to see you, Your Grace. We missed you.”

“We did,” called another.

A girl of six or seven ran forward with wild flowers in her hands.

“Mabel,” Lily said, “thank you. These are lovely. Did you pick them yourself?”

The child nodded, her long brown braids bouncing on her shoulders.

“And how is your mama, Mabel?” Lily winked at the lady who stood beside her. “Is she better?”

“She doesn’t cough. Me not ever.”

Lily giggled and took the flowers into the crook of her arm.

“Will you come inside, Your Grace?” the girl’s mother asked Lily with a twinkle in her eye. Julian had planted the idea that it should be one the tenants who revealed his surprise. After all, the gift was theirs and Lily’s more than his.

“Wasn’t this a deserted cottage?” Lily looked at each of the women and then at Julian. “Isn’t it?”

“Not anymore, m’lady. Come along.”

Lily followed them in.

For long tortuous minutes, Julian paced and forced himself to remain outside. But then he heard Lily gasp and laugh. The sound, melodic and bright, was music to him, a favored song revived from his memories of her.