Page 90 of Duke in Darkness

“Grandmother,” she replied, equally coolly, making the old woman blink in surprise.

“A new butler I see. Not nearly as dignified as the previous one.”

Lilian smiled. “Ah, but not guilty of fraud, which Gabriel and I both prefer.”

The other woman’s eyes bulged. “That is a rather insolent tone, young lady. And how vulgar to refer to one’s husband by his first name rather than his title.”

Gabriel leaned toward them. “I don’t find it so. In fact I prefer it…when Lili calls me that.”

Lady Kingsford turned pea-green. “Lili?”

“Oh yes,” said Lilian extra sweetly. “My preferred name. You aren’t going to be tiresome about it, are you? These are modern times, Grandmother, and we have a modern marriage. Now, do carry on. It is vulgar to hold up a receiving line, and as Duchess of Exton, I have many guests to greet.”

Her grandmother’s jaw dropped, her mouth opening and closing several times. But then she curtsied stiffly to Gabriel, and continued on into the ballroom.

Stunned, Lilian turned to Gabriel, to find him grinning. “What just happened?”

“I told you,” he murmured. “Avenging angel.”

“I couldn’t have done that before. Your unwavering support has made me so much stronger. Freed me to be my true self.”

He ducked his head so his lips were directly next to her ear. “I look forward to being thanked properly…later this evening.”

“I’ll be sure to write you a pretty note,” she replied primly, even as laughter bubbled in her throat.

Turning, Lilian smiled at the next guest in line, her heart full to overflowing. To think she’d once believed that a curious, hot-blooded lady had to transform herself entirely to be loved. Thank heavens a wicked duke had proved her wrong…

And shown how love truly could conquer all.

WAR WAS IMMINENT.

Crumpling up the private note from Castlereagh and tossing it into the fire, Gabriel exhaled wearily. Having been proven correct in what Napoleon might do brought him no satisfaction whatsoever, and knowing that the powerful and huge force of L’Armee du Nord had marched, eager to engage with Wellington and the Prussian General von Blücher’s forces somewhere near Brussels…hell. This would be a defining month, he was sure of it. The balance of power in Europe hung on tenterhooks, and unfortunately there were brilliant military minds on both sides. It could come down to something as simple as sheer luck. One minor decision. Even the weather.

Castlereagh and Liverpool had asked him to remain in London as an advisor, and he had been visiting Whitehall several times a week. It was the reason he and Lili had postponed their planned summer trip around his estates, although it was probably a good thing as she had been feeling under the weather recently, to the point that he had summoned a physician. He couldn’t endure the thought of her suffering with illness.

“Excuse me, Your Grace?” said a footman from the doorway.

“Yes?”

“The physician has left, and the duchess asked to see you.”

Gabriel nodded and made his way as quickly as he could upstairs to their bedchamber.

“Lili?” he said, swallowing hard at the sight of her looking so pale. She held a cup of something, and peered at it with an expression of acute distaste.

“I am told if I drink this herbal concoction I will feel better,” she grumbled. “But I think this cure might be worse than what ails me. It smells as bad as your balm.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his stomach twisting into a knot. “So the physician knows…what is wrong?”

“He is reasonably confident, yes.”

“Do not worry. I’ll get the best doctors…the best treatments…travel anywhere…”

She took a gulp from the cup and made a face. “Ugh. I was right. And I’ll politely decline any travel, thank you. I prefer the familiarity of my own chamber pots.”

Confused, he stared at her. “What do you mean?”

Setting down the cup on a tray, Lilian shifted closer to him on the bed and rested her head on his shoulder. “It seems I am a duchess in a delicate condition. So no ships or rocking carriages, if you please.”