and Lillian’s natural father—not the deceased duke. “Even though I no longer remember his face.” With purposeful care, her mother smoothed the letter she had been reading, refolded it, and replaced it in an its original envelope, browned at the edges from age.
Her mother had been a widow for just a few years when she’d become engaged to Crawford.
“You loved Father.” They didn’t speak of him often. They hadn’t spoken of him at all while the duke had been alive.
“I did.”
“But not Crawford.”
“No, but he provided all of us with security. I had three little girls; you know that.” Her mother blinked and pinched her lips together. “Although Crawford had a dreadful temper, he never hurt any of you girls. And we’ve never had to worry about keeping a roof over our heads, nor about having food on the table. Circumstances would have been quite different had he not offered for me.”
Lillian disagreed that he hadn’t hurt she and her sisters. Each time he’d lifted a hand to their mother, he’d left bruises on her daughter’s hearts.
“So, you have never regretted it, marrying him?” With Crawford gone now, her mother no longer had to worry about managing a husband—or providing a livelihood.
Her mother stared at her squarely. “I do not regret it now.” She glanced down at the letters. “Besides, I want for nothing. I experienced great love at one time. It is more than many ever know. I have my happy memories.”
Her mother sipped at her tea and then dabbed a napkin at the corner of her lips. Rays of sun slanted in to light up her mother’s hair, illuminating the silver strands threaded thickly amongst the golden blond ones. Lillian felt relieved to think that her mother wouldn’t be overly lonely without her. She would still have her other two daughters to keep her busy and—good heavens—the orphaned children Louella and Cameron had taken in as well!
With Lillian married, her mother could finally bring Cora into society.
“Mother.” Lillian stared at the silk embroidery on the white linen tablecloth. “Do you remember hearing of the Duke of Warwick’s death a few months back?”
Her mother sipped at her tea again and frowned. “Nasty business. I wouldn’t speak of it if either of your sisters were here.” She leaned forward. “It happened at the height of the season, you know. Lady Stanhope said His Grace were caught dallying with Lord Grimsley’s wife. Of course, Warwick’s death was officially listed as an accident, but everyone knows the truth of it. Grimsley dispatched him on the field of honor.”
Christian’s brother had not died from an illness then, but in a duel. Christian hadn’t revealed any details but she’d assumed that his brother had died of the same diseased he’d been afflicted with.
So very unfortunate that the older brother died such a purposeless death when his younger brother had need of him.
“Did you ever meet any of them, the Warwicks, that is?”
Her mother stared at her curiously. “Not that I remember. The duchess has been gone for several years now. Why do you ask, Lillian?”
Lillian shifted her gaze to the corner of the room and shrugged. “I understand the new duke is in London.”
“I certainly hope he isn’t the scoundrel his brother was. Not that it concerns us in any way. Dukes aren’t to be trusted, except for Cameron, of course.”
“Of course,” Lillian agreed, again wishing Christian was anything but a duke. Logically, she knew he was nothing like her stepfather had been, but such opinions didn’t simply disappear.
“Lord Crenshaw will be at the ball tonight. Lady Wragge-Morley says he was asking very pointed questions about you. If you aren’t going to accept Lord Roberts, you’ll want to consider Crenshaw.” She chuckled. “He won’t be so easily dismissed.” Her mother’s voice dripped with satisfaction.
Lillian suppressed a shudder. Lord Crenshaw was well into his sixth decade. He was bald and portly and smelled of cigars and decaying teeth. Worse than that, his disposition made her inclined to distrust him. How could her mother even think that Lillian would consent to such a man?
“I was hoping that after you turned down Rothberg’s heir you would be open to other offers. And instead, you’ve led Lord Roberts along. It isn’t fair to your sisters, you know.” Sometimes it was as though her mother could read her thoughts.
“I will choose a husband, mother. You mustn’t worry. The girls will have their come outs soon enough.” But she did not meet her mother’s eyes. Such ill-fated matchmaking efforts would