Unconventional Suitors 01 - Her Unconventional Suitor (14 page)

Her mother began breathing in and out so quickly that Gillian was sure that she was going to faint once more. She rose from her chair and went to stand next to her just in case she was needed to catch her when she fell.

“Mother, please do calm yourself. It is not the end of the world to have your daughter courted by an unfashionable gentleman. Besides, I had an idea form last night, and I think it rather splendid.”

“The only splendid idea, and suitable one to boot, would be for you to clear your head of this nonsense and forget about Lord Danford once and for all,” her mother fumed. “Just look at what your stubbornness is doing to me. Your refusal to listen to reason is having an ill effect on my health. Have you no care?”

Gillian resumed sitting. “Mother, I do care but you are overreacting. Lord Danford is somebody for whom I care about greatly. Have you no care for my feelings, my happiness? Besides, I thought that I could discreetly suggest to him that he find a more suitable tailor and perhaps he would feel obligated to commission a new wardrobe upon my request.”

Her mother turned to her, her eyes squinting into angry slits as her lips pinched together in a most unbecoming fashion. Gillian was just about to warn her that if she kept her mouth pursed together as such, she was going to cause unwanted lines to form, but her mother did not give her any time to give voice to the observation before she began speaking in such an alarming tone that Gillian felt the hair on her arms stand up. “You will never be happy with Lord Danford, never. If you choose him over me, your decision will be final.”

Gillian reeled back in shock. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Phillipa!” the duke roared as he slammed both of his hands down on his desk in front of him. “I forbid you to ever put our daughter in a position where she is forced to choose between her husband and her family. And as your husband and the head of this household, I also refuse to allow you to continue being so irrational. You have helped persuade me in Gillian’s favor with your selfish and spiteful behavior. I will allow Gillian to be courted by the Earl of Danford, and I forbid you to utter another rude or offensive comment on the man’s behalf. Understood?”

The duke glared at the duchess but instead of responding she only glared back at him with equal ferocity. “If you do not agree to my terms,” her father finally hissed, clearly at his wits end with his wife’s lack of submission, “I will banish you to Penwitch House for the remainder of the season and will have my sister Miranda come to London to act as Gillian’s chaperone. Have I made myself clear?”

Gillian gasped in shock. She had never seen her father threaten her mother before and knew he had to be at his wit’s end to do so, especially to threaten her with such a ghastly punishment, for her mother would rather die than be sent away from London during the height of the season.

The duchess sat in a stunned silence, but only for a moment before she once more found her nerve of steel and spat back, “Do not threaten me, Charles.”

“I am your husband and can do so if I wish.” Her father’s tone was firm and unyielding.

“Well then I simply have no other choice then, do I?”

“No you do not,” her father answered honestly, cooly.

“Very well. I see that there is no other way.”

“Thank you,” her father huffed before turning his attention to Gillian. “Now, child, if you were paying attention, you will have heard that I did not give you permission to wed the man, simply to be courted by him and see what comes of it.”

“But of course, father,” Gillian said as she tried to ignore the smug look her mother was giving her, though she wasn’t exactly sure why her mother should feel victorious by her father’s stipulation. For Gillian was certain, that it was only a matter of time before her father would be giving Lord Danford permission to wed her. Once he met the earl and got to see how brilliant of a match they made, he’d be quick to give his approval, she was certain.

“Well if all of this is settled, I’m going to retire to my room. I have suddenly been overcome with a headache.”

“Not so fast, Phillipa, there is one more thing.” The duchess looked at her husband with one eyebrow raised defiantly in a sharp point. “I want you to begin planning a dinner party for the sole intent of me making the Earl of Danford’s acquaintance. I instruct you to begin making preparations at once, for I find that I am most anxious to meet the man that has managed to so fully cut up your peace.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I suggest you start packing for Penwitch House immediately.” Her father was apparently done trying to appease her mother.

“Fine,” her mother spat icily, “then I will do what I must.”

Gillian’s eyes bulged as she watched her mother exit the room. She waited for her father to call after her and tell her he was only jesting, that she didn’t truly have to pack her trunks and leave, but he never did. The heavy wooden door of the study slammed close with a resounding bang causing Gillian and her father to startle.

Gillian rushed to her father’s side, taking one of his hands in her own. “Father, do you really mean to send her away?”

Her father looked at her sadly, “If that is what I have to do, then yes, I will make good on my word.”

“You would risk making your marriage miserable over this matter? That hardly seems fair of me to put you in such a position.”

Her father squeezed her hand while looking at her tenderly. “Gillian, you are not, nor will you ever be the reason behind our miserable marriage. Rest assured that I do not hold you responsible for any of your mother’s actions.”

Gillian’s heart broke as she noticed for the first time the misery behind her father’s eyes. Had she really been so obtuse her entire childhood to never have noticed just how unhappy her parents were? “I’m sorry, father,” was all she managed to say behind the lump that was beginning to form in her throat.

“Do not apologize. Now you may be able to have at least a small understanding as to why I have championed Lord Danford. If you truly care for him, and he you, then the small trivialities such as his outmoded wardrobe do not matter. Never let the insignificant things in life get in the way of the things that matter most.”

Her father had never sounded more wise than he did in that moment, nor had he ever sounded more sorrowful. Gillian wanted to block the heart wrenching truth that her parents’ marriage was miserable from her mind, but she knew that it could never be done. It was akin to seeing a horrific carriage accident and hoping to erase it from your memory simply because you willed it to be. It just wasn’t done.

“Now,” her father said, as he slid his hand from hers and sat down behind his large desk. “I need to send word to Miranda and inform her that her presence is needed in London at once.”

“But aren’t you going to try to talk some sense into mother?”

Her father laughed mirthlessly as he pulled a piece of parchment from the drawer. “You saw the way she behaved. I do not think anything I say will make any difference to her now; it is best to just let it be.”

Gillian didn’t know what else to say. She stood watching her father for several more minutes as he penned his letter to her Aunt Miranda. When the missive was written and the ink had dried, he folded the parchment and slid it into an envelope. Grabbing a wax stick from his drawer, he held it above the flame of a candle and waited patiently for it to melt. He dripped several drops of the red wax onto the flap of the envelope and took off his ring that held the family crest. “Would you like to do the honors?” he asked, holding his ring out to Gillian.

Gillian smiled as she took the ring. “I don’t know why I enjoy pressing your ring into the wax so much.”

“Neither do I,” her father chuckled, “but you have loved to do it ever since you were just a child.”

Gillian pressed the ring into the wax firmly before lifting it and inspecting the imprint that it had made. As she placed the ring into her father’s outstretched hand, she allowed herself to say the words she often felt but rarely expressed, “Father, I love you.”

“Thank you, my sweet child. You have no idea how much that means to me, for I love you more than you will ever know.”

A steady stream of footmen, carrying her mother’s trunks and other belongings, paraded out the door, one right after another while the Duchess of Chesley stood in the hall commanding them about as if she were a general in Napoleon’s army. Gillian danced impatiently behind two servants who were gingerly carrying an oversized trunk down the staircase. If she could have squeezed by them she would have, but there was simply no room.

When she finally reached the landing, she let another servant by her before crossing the hall to where her mother was standing. “Mother, I do not believe my eyes. Do you really mean to leave London?”

Her mother’s eyes raked over her, from her long hair hanging loosely across her shoulders and down her back to her improperly bare feet. When she had heard the commotion stirred up by the servants, she had raced from her room in the midst of Sarah performing her toilette, only to be confronted with the scene before her.

“It would appear I have no other option,” her mother said icily.

“But that isn’t true. Father said you only had to go if you were unwilling to be nice to Lord Danford.”

“Well isn’t that the crux of the matter?”

Gillian rocked back on her bare heels, twisting a thick lock of hair anxiously in one palm. “I think you are being too hasty in your decision. You will be miserable at Penwitch House.”

“No more miserable than I will be if I stay here.”

Her mother’s frosty stubbornness was making Gillian go mad. Letting her hair slide from her hand, she stomped one foot and said, “This is the inside of enough, mother. You are acting as if some horrific tragedy has occurred. Let me boldly remind you that it has not.”

“Enough,” the duchess said with finality as she shouldered her way past Gillian and out the front door. Gillian turned and watched her walk out of the townhouse and be assisted into her carriage by one of the footmen.

“Lady Gillian, are you well?”

Gillian snapped out of her silent reverie and looked up to see Benedict standing in the doorway. “Lord Danford, I did not know you were here.”

“I was coming to call on you when I stumbled upon this perplexing scene. Are you well?” he asked once more.

Gillian instantly thought of her state of dishabille as tears filled her wide eyes. Without her having to say a word, Lord Danford stepped forward and gathered her in his arms as warm tears seeped from the corners of her eyes. “Oh Lord Danford, my mother is leaving, and it’s all my fault.”

“Lady Gillian, your butler is sending me daggers with his eyes. Can we go somewhere more private to discuss these matters?”

Gillian pulled away from him, feeling horribly self-conscious. “But of course. Follow me into the drawing room.”

As soon as they were away from the butler’s condescending stare, Gillian turned to Lord Danford once more, hoping he’d take her in his arms again. She looked into his eyes expectantly, hoping he’d see her desire. He hesitated only slightly before wrapping her in his embrace, pulling her tightly into his chest as his strong arms went around her.

“Tell me what you have done to make your mother flee, for I promise it will not shock me. I have no problem imagining you as being very naughty.”

Despite her distress, Gillian giggled. “It seems it is you, my lord, who brings out the naughtiness in me.”

He was rubbing her back with his capable hands, causing shivers of delight to course through her body, all the way down to the tips of her toes. “I will not allow you to blame this on me, for I find that it is you who provokes me, not the other way around.”

Gillian pulled back from his embrace ever so slightly and let her hands trail their way up his chest, enjoying very much the feel of his hard muscles beneath her palms. “You are distracting me very effectively from my sorrow.”

“Oh,” he smiled, one devilish eyebrow raised. “It is a distraction you seek? If I had known, I would not have wasted precious time on small talk and polite inquiries.”

“No?” she asked, her pulse quickening.

“No,” he explained huskily, “I would have gone straight to this.” His hands found their way into her hair, tugging at it in a way that caused her insides to curl with heat as his warm lips branded hers. She dropped her arms from his chest and flung them around him, pulling him to her as tightly as she could.

Pulling back, he breathed in her ear, “Was that a sufficient distraction?”

Her lips still tasted of him as she curved them into an impish smile, “I think it was a noble effort, but it only whetted my appetite. Care to try again?”

She felt his lips begin to trail feathery kisses down her neck. “If I didn’t know better,” he said as he touched his lips lightly to her neck, “I would think,” he paused to kiss the smooth column of her throat again, “you are enjoying this.”

Gillian shuddered. “A lady never tells.”

“She doesn’t have to, for her body gives her away.” Gillian knew it was true, for she was positively throbbing with desire, his passionate kisses awakening her body to sensations that had before been completely foreign to her. She was melting in his arms and she could tell from the heat she felt climbing up her neck and face that she was positively flushed.

“There you are, Lady Gillian.”

Gillian pulled away from Lord Danford so swiftly that she was surprised she didn’t stumble and fall. Her heart that had previously been racing with desire was now racing with fear and mortification as she looked towards Sarah, unable to bring herself to look into her eyes.

Sarah looked at Lord Danford than back to her mistress. “I think you should allow me to finish with your toilette before you continue your,” she cleared her throat nervously, “interlude with…”

“Lord Danford. And it was not an interlude, Sarah, we were simply conversing about mother’s departure.”

“Ah yes, I can see that I caught you in a moment overcome with great concern for her grace.”

Gillian cringed at Sarah’s underlying sarcasm. Grabbing her arm, she began leading her from the room. Glancing over her shoulder, she called out to Lord Danford, “Have a seat and I will have tea sent in while you wait. I promise I will hurry.”