Page 59 of My Dark Duke

He frowned, before continuing, “However, circumstances are not usual. You are carrying my child, I am afraid I will accept nothing less than your hand in marriage, Miss Hamilton.”

Despite valiantly trying, Lillian could not hold back the bubble of laughter inside her. Even when proposing, Thorncastle could not help but do so in a high-handed manner. The duke scowled, displeased with her response.

“It’s no laughing matter,” he grumbled. “I love you - heaven help me, I could not stop loving you, even if I tried - and I want you by my side as my wife. I will not take no for an answer, Lillian.”

His words silenced her laughter - had he truly said he loved her?

“Do you?” she whispered, unable to believe it.

He nodded, his blue eyes misty. “Fiercely, passionately, and madly,” he confirmed, lifting his hand to her cheek. “Even before I knew of the baby, I realised I was falling in love. When I learned you were with child, I realised I now loved not one, but two people. I thought I had no heart, but now I know I do, for it is filled by you.”

Despite the pain she was in, Lillian leaned forward and threw her arms around him. She inhaled deeply, savouring his masculine scent of tobacco and sandalwood.

“Is that a yes?” Sebastian whispered, nuzzling his head against hers.

“Yes,” she replied. “A thousand times, yes.”

He kissed her then, a slow, gentle kiss. His lips upon hers were tender, his hands gently cradling her face. She felt cherished and loved, and she vowed she would always show him the same.

Somehow, she had helped Sebastian to find his heart, and she would guard it fiercely forever.

EPILOGUE

POLLY FUSSED ABOUT, as she finished dressing Lillian’s hair. Her auburn curls were piled high atop her head, ornamented with pearl and ruby combs -a gift from Sebastian.

“You’re a picture,” Polly declared, as she stepped back so Lillian could fully appreciate her appearance in the mirror.

Lillian smiled as she saw what was reflected at her; she looked like a duchess, even though she did not feel like one. Though, this was understandable, for she was not yet a duchess - not officially at least.

She plucked nervously at the skirts of her gown - an empire-line creation of silk and satin, complete with flounces and beading - as she wondered wildly if Sebastian might decide his proposal had been a terrible mistake.

“You’ll wrinkle it,” Polly tutted, as she noted Lillian’s fidgeting hands.

“I’m sorry,” she apologised, curling her hands into fists so she was prevented from carrying out any further damage.

“Don’t say sorry,” Polly answered, her tone kind. “I just want you to look your best for the duke; I’m sure he’s wearing a hole in the carpet, while he waits for you. By all accounts, he’s rather nervous you might change your mind.”

It was so like Polly to know exactly what to say to make her feel better. Lillian smiled gratefully at the lady’s maid, who had eased her nerves considerably.

Sebastian had not wished to travel back to London to be wed, he had wanted to do it the day she had awoken in Linton. As the only vicar in the locality was Mr Figgis, the idea had been put to bed, for the man of the cloth had vanished during the altercation at Linton Hall. Instead, they had remained for one more night in The King’s Head Inn, before returning to London the next day. Sebastian had procured a special license from the Archbishop of Canterbury, allowing them to hold an immediate wedding, but Polly had insisted they wait another few days to allow Lillian’s arm to heal and a dress be made up.

Since her return, Lillian had remained in the house off Berkeley Square, but this morning she would travel to Thorncastle House, which would become her new home.

“Well,” Polly sighed, as she cast one last appraising glance over her, “I can’t improve on perfection - you’re ready.”

Lillian nodded, suddenly eager to be away. “Tell Michael I am ready when he is.”

Polly nodded, then disappeared to find Michael. Once she had left, Lillian took one last look around the room. All of her belongings had already been packed and sent across to St James’ Square. The room appeared bare, but she did not feel at all nostalgic about leaving it. It was just a room - her home was with Sebastian.

Polly returned a few minutes later, to tell her the carriage was ready. Maude and Thomas stood waiting at the bottom of the stairs, to see her off. She hugged them both and wished them well in the new employment Thorncastle had secured for them.

Then, in a flurry of silk and satin, Polly bundled her out the door and into the waiting vehicle.

Lillian watched the passing scenery with vague detachment - everything felt like a dream. She had never imagined herself as a duchess, had never even dared to dream she might become one, yet here she was.

When they arrived at Thorncastle House, Barty, Sebastian’s cousin, stood waiting for her on the top step.

“Thank heaven,” he called, as Michael assisted her down. “My dear cousin is in a state. He was about to call a mounted search party to seek you out. I assured him t the bride is always late - but you are not even that. You are just on time. I am afraid, Miss Hamilton, you are marrying an autocrat - if you wish to make your escape, now is your last moment to do so.”

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