Page 12 of A Gentleman's Kiss
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Lillian attempted to focus her weary eyes. With a few blinks she was able to make out the myriad of faces around her. She blinked again, confused, trying to remember what had happened.
A face loomed above her. A familiar face. She reached up to touch the face, and then she recoiled her hand, as all of what transpired came flooding back.
Dominick. He knows. Oh, I am so ashamed.
Familiar faces crowded around her, all shaking their heads and gazing upon her with concern.
Did they all know? The looks of pity on their faces most certainly meant they knew what she’d done. She had been the cause of so much pain. And he, only he, Lord Wessex could have told them.
Lillian bolted up. Her limbs were a tangled mess in her sweaty sheets. The nightmare’s graphic replay of the day before was still vivid in her mind.
She shook her head at the awful entry she’d made so far into London Society. She didn’t belong here. She was out of place. But really, she didn’t feel that she belonged anywhere! Maybe some far off English country estate or the deserts of the Wild American West where no one would recognize her. She put her hands to her face, as tears poured from her eyes and sobs wracked her body.
After Lillian had a good long cry, she was thoroughly spent and limp. She flopped back onto the bed. How did she let herself get so meek? At one time she’d been a strong woman, a secure woman. Someone who knew what she wanted, and went out and got it.
And that’s what got me here.
Lillian took a deep breath.Enough pitying yourself. Enough berating yourself. Get a hold of your emotions, and be strong.
Disgusted with her own behavior and the ever increasing internal dialogue, Lillian hopped out of bed and headed for the window, stretching lazily before pulling back the curtain to peek outside.
Today would be a new day. She would get dressed, and perhaps take a walk in the gardens Sir Trenton mentioned. Perhaps even try to engage her cousins in an activity. The latter would probably prove to be more challenging.
She would no longer pity herself. The past was the past, and she couldn’t keep letting it haunt her. She’d been given the chance to start new in London. She could brush aside the rumors Lord Wessex no doubt spread about her. Besides, London didn’t appear to be changing their ways anytime soon. She wouldn’t have to worry about the young ladies being stripped of their frilly gowns.
And perhaps now was a good time to have that talk with Uncle Luke about marrying a simple man.
One thing was for sure, she was going to stay away from Lord Wessex.
*****
Dominick couldn’t get Miss Whitmore out of his mind. He was consumed with her. Overwhelmed by her presence and the scent of orange blossoms that floated around her. The long blond locks that framed her angelic face and the enchanting blue of her eyes haunted his dreams. The way her hips swayed ever so gently when she walked, stirred his innermost desires. He relived the moment when she fainted into his arms again and again. Her soft hand had caressed his face. The feel of her curves on his body as he cradled her against him would be burned into his memory for all time.
Thoughts of her were driving him mad.
He’d never been so infatuated with a woman before. Dominick’s strong feelings puzzled him. Was he going insane? She was his last thought before falling asleep and his first thought when he opened his eyes.
Lillian.
Beautiful, sweet, soft, caring, American, Lillian.
Perhaps he was only infatuated with the little imp because she was American. Lord knew he loved America. He spent enough time there, riding through the prairies, the deserts, exploring developing cities, and more! He loved all things American. Perhaps that is why he loved…her?
No it was impossible, he couldn’t love her. He barely knew her. He didn’t even know what love was. Dominick spent so many years traveling the world he did not have time for a relationship with a woman let alone love.
The closest he ever got to a relationship, was the woman he visited every couple of weeks. Ironically she lived on Maiden Lane in Cheapside. His visits with her were definitely not love—nor maidenly—just a need fulfilled.
Perhaps he thought of Miss Whitmore as a piece of America he needed to study. Another adventure he was eager to begin. There was no way he was falling for this young lady, and he certainly wouldn’t marry her. He was going to be a duke one day, and although she was the niece of a duke, she was not a duke’s daughter, no longer an earl’s daughter since the man had renounced his title and married a common woman. Lillian was an American commoner, who was taken in by a duke. Although her father had been an earl at one point… and really there were so many in the Ton whose parentage was questionable…
Lady Tamara or Lady Susannah were definitely within his marriage arena, and he was sure his father’s cousin Georgiana was trying to make it happen. If the flirtations from Tamara were any indication, she was trying her darnedest to land him as her husband.
He must have been one of the most eligible bachelors of the Season. After catching Lillian in his arms when she’d fainted, he was swarmed by women singing his praises, batting their lashes, and fawning all about. He thought a few of them contemplated fainting, just so he would catch them.
Why did these women pursue him? If they asked, he would have told them he was not interested in marrying now or any time soon. There were many other voyages to America already in the works for him.
Being of curious mind as it was, Dominick decided he needed to speak with Miss Whitmore this morning. He needed to make sure his nitwitted notions of love were only an infatuation; a curiosity for someone new. He wanted to learn more about her, dismiss what captivated him, and move on.
