Lily and the Duke (Sex and the Season 1)

“Yes, you’re absolutely right.” Lily told her sister everything, happy to finally confide in someone. She began with the kiss on the side of the mansion and ended with her return to the chamber a few moments earlier, although she left out the details of their lovemaking. That was between Daniel and her, and she didn’t want to share it.

“Oh, Lily, I admit that it sounds absolutely enchanting,” Rose breathed, closing her eyes, but then she opened them quickly. “But you’ve been compromised. You’re ruined. What are you going to do?”

“We’ve been discreet, Rose. No one will know. And you know that I don’t give two figs about finding a husband anyway.”

“I’m not sure you’ve been all that discreet,” Rose said. “The duke’s attention to you at dinner last evening was apparent to everyone, I’m afraid. And this morning, what was he thinking? He brought you back here in broad daylight.” Rose paused, her brow furrowed. “It’s almost as though he wanted to get caught.”

“That’s ridiculous, Rose. He wants discretion as much as I do. If we were caught, Papa might force him to marry me, and believe me, that is the farthest thing from Dan…er, the duke’s mind.”

“Are you certain about that?”

“Yes, of course. I’m not such a complete ninny that I’ve forgotten what kind of a man he is.”

“What about you? Do you having feelings for him?”

Heat rose to Lily’s cheeks. “I…I believe I care for him.” Her voice cracked, and she steadied it. “I can’t help it. But that doesn’t change who he is. I know he’s been an utter scoundrel. But I enjoy his company, and he seems to enjoy mine. We have some common interests. I’m having fun, that’s all.”

Rose’s gaze turned sorrowful. “Lily, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I won’t. Believe me, I know what I’m doing. I have no intention of marrying any time soon.” Lily stood and turned. “Unfasten me, will you? I want to put on a morning dress and continue with my painting from yesterday. What are you going to do this morning?”

“I’m going to work on my Beethoven for a bit, I think. Are you going to be able to come along with Lord Evan and me on our ride this afternoon?” Rose finished unbuttoning Lily’s gown and untied her corset strings.

“Yes, absolutely. In fact, Daniel asked me to go riding, and he suggested we all go together. Isn’t that a perfect solution? We’ll have built in chaperones.”

“Daniel? And I suppose he’s using your Christian name as well?”

“Yes, he asked me to, and I saw no reason not to allow it.”

“And he’s taking you riding.”

“Yes, of course. He asked me yesterday.”

“Dear Lord,” Rose said. “I’m afraid he may be more serious about you than you think.”

“Don’t be silly,” Lily said. “You and I both know his reputation.”

“We shall see what we shall see.” Rose left it at that.

* * *

Lily finished her painting, pleased with the results. She headed back to the main house to return her art supplies to her chamber, after which she planned to browse in the library and choose a book to relax with for the rest of the morning. As she entered, a large brown crate and several white canvases sitting at the foot of her bed drew her focus. Her name was written in elegant script on a sheet of parchment sealed with the Lybrook crest. Her hands shaking, she opened the note and read it, admiring the masculine scrawl.

Lily,

I can’t wait to see what you create with these. Make Vermeer proud.

Yours,

D.

She knelt beside the crate. The nails had been loosened so she could remove the top easily. She gasped. The box was filled with tubes of oil paints, brushes and other tools, a color mixing palette, and several jars of various spirits. At the bottom was a book about oil painting. She grabbed it and opened it. No need to visit the library now. This would be her reading material for the rest of the morning.

“Oh, Daniel,” she whispered. “You’re so completely wonderful.”

She closed her eyes and sighed. How could she show him her appreciation for this most thoughtful of gifts? She took the watercolor she had just finished out of her leather case. It had turned out beautifully. She had signed it with a simple “L” in script, and then the date, the way she signed all of her paintings. She removed the painting she had completed eight years prior. The “L” had a girlish curl to it, and the technique was “raw and untamed,” as Daniel had put it. Still, he had seemed charmed by the painting, and she wanted him to have it. She would give him both pieces. Perhaps he would remember their time together, and she would rest easier knowing that a little part of her stayed at Laurel Ridge when she left.