Page 26 of A Gentleman's Kiss

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Lillian placed herself into the window seat of the drawing room, tucking her skirts neatly beneath her and around her legs so they would not wrinkle. She pretended to read a book for two dreadful hours. Her mind was flitting from one thought to the next and she simply could not concentrate on the story. She couldn’t wait for Dominick to arrive. She wanted to thank him for the flowers, his wonderful note—which she’d tucked into her bodice—and tell him how much he meant to her. She hoped he would reciprocate the sentiments.

Her family was at a musicale Tamara and Susannah were performing in. She was at first surprised to find out they had not been invited to the play—for her aunt was close to the Duchess of Cambridge. Then again she was relieved she wouldn’t have to tell her aunt and uncle she was going to the play with Dominick. She was almost positive they were not aware the event was taking place. Of late, she and her relations had been on much more pleasant grounds, and Lillian didn’t think she could handle another argument like the one at the Queen’s tea party. If they knew she’d been invited to something they were not, the fighting would begin anew.

Lillian was supposed to attend the musicale as well, but since she’d been ill, they excused her from attending. And so here she sat, without her family knowing she was in fact, quite well.

Maybe she wouldn’t have to tell her family at all, or perhaps she could tell them with Dominick present, should they be betrothed at the time. Oh, was she thinking ahead of herself? She had to calm down. She could have the entire thing misconstrued, and Dominick could simply see her as a good friend, one whom he had things in common with, such as America.

She slammed the book shut when she saw a black covered carriage pull into the circular drive. A gilded Cambridge crest adorned the side. Dominick was here.

Quickly, she sat on a chaise, smoothed her skirts and placed her hands in her lap. She was nervous to see him, her heart racing, and her palms slick. She watched the door for what she deemed must be an eternity. At long last he appeared. Her heart quickened at the sight of him.

“Miss Whitmore.” He bowed low to her.

“My lord,” she said, with a curtsy.

“Shall we?” He offered his arm and she moved quickly to take it, finding comfort in the familiar feel of his muscles beneath his jacket.

“We shall,” she said with a smile in his direction. She was caught off guard by the intensity of his penetrating gaze.

His eyes, cloudy with emotion, showed some inner struggle.

“Is everything all right?”

“Yes, my dear,” he whispered, lifting her hand to his lips, she shivered slightly at the feel of his tender kiss upon her knuckles, even though her gloves provided a barrier. “Everything is perfect.”

His lips lingered just long enough for her to know they were meant to be more than friends.

He led her to the carriage, and assisted her inside, then climbed in to sit beside her. Every time they sat beside one another, and this time was no different, Dominick’s leg pressed hotly to hers. The heat from his body caused her own temperature to rise, and she shifted, wishing to throw her arms around him and press her lips to his. Lillian’s every nerve was strained. She wanted desperately to move closer, but did not dare.

“I see you received the flowers I sent you,” Dominick said with a wink.

“They were beautiful. You spoil me,” she said shyly, looking down at her gloves.

“I could never spoil you. You deserve everything I have to offer.” His hand came up to caress her cheek, and she suppressed a shiver as she gazed into his eyes.

“Thank you, Dominick.”

“Do you like plays, Lillian?”

“I do! I have yet to see one in London, but when in New York, my parents did take me to the theater on occasion. I used to dream I was up on stage, wearing their gowns and lip-color, and singing. ‘Twas a silly dream, as I’ve no theatrical talent, but nevertheless, one I was fond of imagining. What about you, do you enjoy the theater?”

He grinned. “Very much. I too wanted to be up on stage. When I visited Greece as a young lad, I was very much impressed with the auditoriums and the shows they put on. Furthermore, I developed a passion for writing, reading, and for the works of various playwrights.”

“I too love reading,” Lillian said. “Shakespeare especially.”

“Indeed, he is the master, is he not?”

She nodded.

“Since I met you, I have written one such myself. We are going to watch it today, and I hope you may enjoy it, and catch its meaning.”

Before she could ask him what he meant, their carriage pulled to a stop. He’d written a play himself? He certainly was very talented. She couldn’t wait to see it. And what a mystery having to discern its meaning.

After greeting various other guests and being introduced to Dominick’s parents, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, Lillian and Dominick took their seats toward the back of the ball room which had been set up as a theater. Rows of chairs filled the room, and at the front was a makeshift stage—blue velvet curtains included. The curtains opened and the room, made up of a couple dozen guests, quieted to watch as the play began.

Prince Trevelyan struggled with his inner conscience. He had a duty to uphold to his family. His duty was to assume the throne and carry on the line. But he also had a duty to himself.