her a scowl from her brother. Despite everything that was wrong about this moment, Lillian wanting to laugh at the interaction between the two siblings. She remembered all too well what it had felt like to be Bernadette’s age.
“Your Grace.” The younger girl acknowledged her without meeting her eyes.
“Lillian and I were married at Gretna Green last week. I hope you are happy for me?”
Oh, dear. The girl was not at all happy with him.
“Simmons told me everything.” She turned an angry glare toward her brother, eyes shining. “How could you do that? Run off without telling me, without taking me along? That wasn’t fair at all. And now you expect me to be happy for you?”
“My lady…” the governess held out a hand as though it could prevent Bernadette from expressing additional reprimands toward her brother—who was a duke.
Lillian was torn between saying something in an attempt to help, or making her excuses and leaving them alone.
“Don’t be disrespectful, Bernadette. I expect you to welcome my wife.”
Oh, dear. His jaw was set and he had stiffened beside her.
Lillian dropped his arm. “It was a dreadful thing to have done, and it’s all my fault.” She approached the girl who reminded her so much of one of her own younger sisters. “We really didn’t have a choice. But I hope you’ll accept our apology.” Lillian looked back over her shoulder at Christian, hoping he would take her lead. She did not want to begin her relationship with her new sister-in-law on a bad foot. “Don’t we, Chris--Warwick?”
Christian met her gaze, pinched his lips together, but then seemed to relent. “We do. And I promise to make it up to you.”
The younger girl’s eyes remained suspicious, but some of her anger, it seemed, appeared to leave her.
“Lillian will be able to sponsor your come out next spring,” he pointed out.
Lillian nodded in agreement, but added, “If you would like me to.”
Bringing another woman into the household, she knew, might represent something of a threat. Although Lillian would, indeed, take her place as mistress of the house, she intended to do so gracefully. Even though she’d been a child at the time, she remembered all too well the antagonism her sisters and her mother had been met with when Crawford had introduced them at Ashton Acres.
Cameron had loathed them so fiercely that he’d gone to war. The servants had practically hated them in the beginning.
Bernadette glanced between the two of them and then folded her arms in front of her. “I will need a new wardrobe,” she said, “and a dancing master.” She was quite the expert at manipulating her brother.
“Of course,” he exhaled.
“But that doesn’t mean I’m not angry with you anymore.” Christian’s sister, it seemed, wasn’t about to let them off easily. Lillian was going to have to be patient. Bernadette met Lillian’s eyes for the first time. “I hope you will be happy here. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to attend to my correspondence.”
A moment later, Lillian and Christian were alone once again. She had so much to do. She needed to tour the house, meet with the servants, send for the rest of her belongings…
Face her mother.
“Well,” Christian broke into her musings. “That went well.”
“You are certain you wish to do this?” The question burst from Lillian’s mouth in lieu of a greeting when her husband entered through the connecting door of their two chambers. They had shared his bed, of course, but separated in the morning in order to dress for the day.
Having spent her first day back in London settling in, and then enduring her sullen sister-in-law’s behavior at dinner, Lillian had put off the confrontation with her mother until now. She had left her mother the note so that she wouldn’t think her eldest daughter had simply disappeared, but the time had come for her to provide her with an explanation.
Not the real one, of course.
And Christian had insisted that she would not face her mother alone.
He looked exceedingly handsome this morning in a gray jacket and waistcoat and black fitted trousers. She stepped forward and adjusted his perfectly tied cravat, pouncing on any excuse to be near him again.
She’d missed him already, in the short amount of time it had taken for her to bathe and dress, and she had to fight the urge to wind her arms around his neck and offer her lips for a kiss.
This was not a real marriage, after all. Was it?
He glanced around the room, presumably to