Page 30 of My Dark Duke

Mary, however, was a different matter.

I may have everything I wish for, except for your heart…

Her response to his offer of wealth and prestige had been tellingly astute, despite her innocence in such matters. The sadness in her voice when she had uttered those words, had also been rather telling.

She wanted his heart; perhaps she was the first woman who had ever wanted it.

As the carriage trundled through the streets of London, Sebastian waged a battle against his inner demons. His need to possess Mary was all consuming, but his conscience fought to be heard.

Mary wanted love. She deserved love. And, Sebastian realised with surprise, if he was capable of offering it to her, he would.

But he had told her the truth; he had no heart to give her. And, if he could not give her what she wanted, he might just have to set her free - no matter how much he wanted her.

CHAPTER NINE

THE DUKE’S ABRUPTdeparture had left Lillian in a state of anxiety. Over the course of a sleepless night, however, her anxiety had turned to anger.

As morning broke, Lillian’s mind was filled with the outrage of her situation.

She had promised herself to a man in exchange for his protection, she had not realised this exchange would also include the loss of her independence.

Thorncastle had not stayed, nor had he offered an explanation for his abrupt departure. He would pass his day, attending to his ducal duties, while she was left to await his return.

If he chose to return, that is.

If he did not arrive this evening, would he deign to send an excuse, or would she be expected to remain quiet, grateful for any crumbs from the table of his affection?

Indignation burned in Lillian’s belly, carrying her through the day. At noon, she refused the offer of luncheon, so filled was she with righteous anger.

It was only when Polly arrived at her bedchamber to help her dress for the evening, that her fury dissipated somewhat.

“His Grace said to dress warmly, for an evening outdoors,” Polly said, cheerful as ever. “I expect that means he’s taking you to the Vauxhall Gardens.”

Lillian, who had been lounging in the chair by the fireplace, glanced up from her copy of La Belle Assemble.

“His Grace did not say anything to me about an outing this evening,” she answered, struggling to keep her tone even. “In fact, he said very little to me at all.”

She looked up to find Polly biting nervously on her lip.

“Did he say something to you?” Lillian questioned, as she rose to stand. “I have spent all day awash with confusion. His Grace spent weeks trying to convince me to come live here, and after only one day, it appears he has grown bored of me. I would rather chance my luck with London, than live miserably at the beck and call of an arrogant sod like Thorncastle.”

Lillian had not meant to sound so angry, but as she finished speaking, she realised she had failed at that endeavour. Polly, to her credit, did not look put out at having had to bear the brunt of Lillian’s frustrations.

“I make no claims of being a mind reader,” Polly replied, after a pause, “so take what I say with a large pinch of salt. I do not think you angered His Grace in any way, nor has he grown tired of you so soon. Rather, I believe, he was having a crisis of conscience.”

“What?” Lillian hooted, completely bemused. “I did not think the duke had one.”

Polly offered her a look which could only be described as disappointed, and Lillian felt a jolt of shame. Apart from last night’s unexplained departure, the duke had shown her only kindness. That his morals regarding sexual congress were dubious, was beyond doubt; but, behind it all, he had a good soul.

“Last night you looked like a fresh faced debutante,” Polly continued, her eyes once again filled with affection. “I believe His Grace found the image rather jarring. He does not have a reputation for chasing after green-girls, like some men I’ll not mention. Perhaps, he needed to leave to grapple with his compunctions. Perhaps he had not realised until last night, just what an innocent you are.”

Lillian flushed at her last remark; was it so obvious she was a virgin?

“If the duke feels that way,” she replied, eventually, “then I wish he would voice his worries to me.”

“The world would be a much easier place, if people spoke aloud their worries, instead of bottling them inside,” Polly agreed, with an earthy laugh. “Now, shall I have Maude heat some water for a bath?”

Lillian nodded, unable to speak, for Polly’s words were still jumbling around her mind. She found it difficult to comprehend that Thorncastle, of all people, had been overcome with moral worries about bedding her. It was she who should be fretting, yet she was not. Part of her earlier anger had stemmed not only from her hurt, but from her frustration that the mysteries of lovemaking had not been revealed to her.

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