“Patrick is very good with Lilian, and he is her uncle,” Cecily replied firmly. “But it’s Lilian’s father I’m presently concerned with. I know he is a late riser, so I didn’t expect to see him at breakfast, but this is unacceptable! Mrs. Barnes, has the Duke perhaps gone out?”
“No, Your Grace,” the housekeeper answered with a sigh. “His Grace has not left the house. Mr. Greene, our senior footman, tells me that he went upstairs at two o’clock this morning and has not been down since.”
At the far end of the drive, a small but elaborately painted open-top carriage could now be seen approaching, drawn by four small ponies and carrying Miss Osborne and Lilian. A small white dog sat on the child’s lap.
A horrible thought came to Cecily that her husband’s absence might be some peculiar game of his. What if he had been expecting her to go to his room last night, since she had not done so the night before? She knew now that the door between their rooms was unlocked. Might his absence be some kind of punishment for failing to fulfill her wifely duty?
But, aside from the fact that this did not ring true with everything she had seen of his character, he had reportedly not gone to bed until after two o’clock. While she had been pacing in her nightgown and wondering whether to push open that door, he had probably been downstairs playing billiards or reading a book.
If he had wanted her, he could have come to her. She could only presume that he didn’t want her, now a most disappointing thought.
She turned to the footman who was hovering nearby in case of need.
“Mr. Greene, has the valet gone up to the Duke this morning? If not, can he be sent up now?”
The footman gave an embarrassed cough and looked at Mrs. Barnes, who seemed to have complete oversight of the household in the absence of a butler.
“Mr. Rogers does not go upstairs until His Grace rings,” the footman told Cecily.
“I see,” she responded, understanding that none of the staff felt authorized to disturb the Duke so early in the morning, not even for the arrival of his daughter. “Well, we must make the best of things for now. Lilian is here.”
As the elaborately painted little carriage pulled up, the dark-haired girl scrambled out and ran to the steps, despite her governess’s futile protests.
“Welcome to Greyhaven Park, Lilian,” Cecily greeted her, coming partway down the steps to receive the child.
Lilian ran right past her, up the stairs, and into the house, barging past Mary on the way and then protesting loudly when Patrick scooped her up.
“That is not how a lady behaves, Lilian,” he told her in a gentle but surprisingly firm tone. “You must greet your new stepmother and aunt properly. If I set you down, will you do that?”
Lilian wriggled and shoved at him, her dark blue eyes blazing furiously. “I don’t want a stepmother or an aunt. Where’s Papa? You said he would be here!Youtold me that!”
The last sentence was spoken accusingly to Mrs. Barnes and Cecily, who had indeed assured her of this when they had met at the dower house the day before.
Cecily and the housekeeper looked at one another. Briefly, Cecily considered sending Lilian upstairs to rage at the Duke. That would certainly serve him right! However, it would be very unfair to the hurt, angry little girl.
“Maybe we made a mistake with the time,” she suggested.
Mrs. Barnes nodded quickly. “Yes, maybe your father thinks that you are arriving for luncheon or teatime, Lady Lilian,” she added soothingly. “I’m sure we’ll see him soon.”
This weak attempt at diplomacy failed utterly.
“I hate you!” Lilian shouted at Cecily, her tears spilling over as she pounded at Patrick’s shoulder with small fists. “I hate this house, and I hate all of you!”
“She bites,” Patrick warned when Cecily tried to approach. “Be warned.”
Mary pulled her sister back from the wild little creature.
“There now,” Mrs. Barnes spoke up, coming over and stroking Lilian’s unruly dark hair despite her thrashing. “You don’t really hate us, Lady Lilian. This is going to be your new home, and all your things will be brought over this week.”
“Yes, you’ll have a bedroom here, and a room for your lessons, and a playroom,” Cecily continued in the same vein.
“There won’t be room for all my toys,” Lilian objected, although she had calmed a little. “Unless I have the biggest room in the house. I want all my ponies here, too. I only brought four today, but there are more.”
“Shall I take you upstairs and show you your rooms?” Cecily offered as Patrick set the girl down. “It’s one of the nicest rooms. Miss Osborne said you have stayed in it before and liked it.”
“You’re not my mother, and I don’t have to do what you say!” Lilian yelled before Cecily could get any further with her prepared speech. “I want Papa!”
Rolling his eyes, Patrick pulled a bag of sweetmeats from his jacket and offered it to the angry child. Lilian took a toffee and chewed on it too aggressively to continue her rant.
