Gail Ranstrom - Unlacing Lilly

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The bastard son of a duke, Devlin Farrell is about to exact revenge for his mother's murder.He will even go as far as kidnapping his enemy's bride from the altar! Lilly O'Rourke is merely an innocent pawn in Devlin's plan. Other than ruining her reputation, he means her no harm–though it's hard to play the perfect gentleman when he's struggling to resist her tempting beauty.But Devlin has lived so long for revenge, can he now forfeit this desire–and in rescuing Lilly, save himself?

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“That it was a Home Office matter. And that cooperation was in their best interests.”

Yes, Jack could make that believable. “Then what did the neighbors have to say?”

Jack sat back in his chair and took a deep swallow of raw whiskey. He’d refused coffee, saying it might be morning for Devlin, but that he hadn’t been to bed yet. “Said they were a quiet family. Confirmed that there were four girls when they moved in, and one met with some sort of unfortunate end not long after they arrived. One recently married, and there were two still at home. The mother is widowed and, from all accounts, a bit vague and wholly incompetent.”

Devlin tamped down the quick flash of sympathy. Perhaps Miss O’Rourke was not as pampered as she had seemed. She had been wearing darker colors fit for mourning whenever he’d seen her. The neighbors could have the truth of it.

“What of their friends? People who came to call?”

“The neighbors all say they did not notice anyone or anything remarkable. Very few callers, they said. A coach or two just before the one sister married. Then, of a sudden, two coaches appeared yesterday afternoon, trunks and bandboxes were carried out and stuffed in the coaches, and the household departed, servants and all. If I didn’t know better, I’d suspect chicanery of some sort.”

“What? Kidnapping?” Devlin’s stomach clenched. The wedding was tomorrow. If anyone got to Miss O’Rourke before he did, there’d be hell to pay.

“No. Who takes the servants on a kidnapping?” Jack gave him a canny grin. “And what’s your interest in the O’Rourkes, Farrell? You said you had no plans to court one.”

Ah, here was the ever present specter of his birth. Devlin Farrell was not even good enough to court an obscure miss with neither fortune nor title. No, he was about as low as a man could be. A hundred years ago, his hand would have been lopped off for even touching the hem of Miss O’Rourke’s gown. He gave Jack a snort, warning him to drop the subject.

“How do you want me to proceed?” he asked.

“Find the estate agent who is handling the property, and ask him for forwarding information. He should know where they’ve got to.” Meantime, Devlin had his own idea to find her.

“What’s so deuced important about a batch of females from Belfast?”

“It is not about them, Jack. It is about something else entirely.”

“I think you are looking for trouble, lad.”

“When have I not been looking for trouble? Just find them. Before tonight.”

Edwards, her brother-in-law’s valet, presented Lilly with a silver salver bearing a letter with the Rutherford seal. “For you, Miss Lillian. Urgent, I was told.”

Lilly looked around the breakfast table. Of all of them, only Andrew did not look surprised. “Go ahead,” he told her.

She put her teacup down, took the letter, broke the seal, scanned the first lines and felt a warm flush wash through her.

Mama gasped. “What is it?” She leaned forward in anticipation, her hand going to her throat.

“I…I am to be married tomorrow at eleven o’clock.”

Bella and Gina both drew in long breaths and Mama squealed with delight.

Only Andrew maintained a steady composure. “Is that all it says?”

“No. It says that—” She paused to scan the lines again. “That the king has sent his permission for the wedding to proceed as scheduled and that he could not see any reason for general mourning—not even the shortest period, though he has agreed to a short court mourning. The duke further says that I should arrive at their church no later than half past ten tomorrow, and that he has arranged for me to wait in the vestry until all the guests have arrived. He says that the duchess will attend me there. My only duty is to claim my wedding gown at the dressmaker’s this afternoon and ensure that it fits me well.”

“How very thoughtful of the duchess to take on the burden of all the preparations. She is most considerate of our mourning, is she not?” Mama asked.

Lilly did not have the heart to tell her that the duchess had no patience at all with their mourning. She bit her tongue, though, thinking it better for Mama to believe the best of the duchess, as they would all soon be family.

Mama stood and dropped her napkin on her chair. “Mr. Hunter, would it be permissible for me to use your library for a private word with my daughter?”

Andrew had stood when Mama rose and gave a little bow. “Of course, Mrs. O’Rourke.”

Lilly followed Mama down the corridor to Mr. Hunter’s private sanctuary—the only place he’d found peace since the O’Rourkes had moved in, no doubt. What on earth had gotten into her mother?

As soon as Lilly entered the room, her mother pushed the door closed, turned a vivid shade of crimson and began to wring her hands. “I know I have been remiss these past few months, Lilly. But you are my baby, my dear sweet girl. I must pull myself together now, for your sake.”

She drew Mama over to a chair and sat her down. “What is it? Is something wrong with my dowry? Oh, say we have not lost it in investments!”

“No. No, nothing amiss with your dowry, my dear. But…but lacking in your education. I have put this off, thinking it unnecessary should the king deny permission and unless you are truly to be wed. Now that it is final, it is my obligation to inform you of your duties as a wife.”

“Oh, this is not necessary, Mama. You have been a pattern for me in your devotion to Papa. I do not believe you ever failed him.”

“Yes, but…there are other duties that you would not have known about.”

“I really—”

“Duties to be performed only, um, behind closed doors. The bedroom door, to be precise.”

Heat burned her cheeks and Lilly imagined herself every bit as crimson as her mother. Heavens! In all the excitement of the wedding, she had not given much thought to the wedding night. Each time her mind had wandered in that direction, she had quickly thought of something else—her gown, the flowers, her mother’s delight.

“Now sit down, dear, and I shall have to educate you to a woman’s duty.”

Lilly was mortified. She’d been raised around animals and had a fairly good working knowledge of the harsh reality. She further knew that the law required her to submit. As an experiment, she’d even kissed two different boys before leaving Ireland. Surely there was little further she had to know? But she knew her mother, and she knew she would forge ahead, regardless of Lilly’s wishes. Perhaps a little lie?

“Completely unnecessary, Mama. Bella and I had a chat yesterday. She has brought my education up to snuff.”

“Oh.” Looking disconcerted, her mother stood. “Well, then. I suppose there’s nothing more for me to say. I hope she did not neglect to tell you about—”

“I promise, Mama. She neglected nothing.”

“And that you cannot refuse, however much you might want?”

That caused her heart to skip a beat. “Yes, Mama. Even that.” But she had seen the way Bella and Andrew looked at one another and she had to doubt that Bella would ever refuse anything Andrew wanted. Or that he would refuse her.

“I shall have to remember to thank Bella.” And with a monumental sigh of relief, Mama stood and hurried to the door. When she opened it, Gina edged past her and closed her out.

She turned to Lilly and began giggling. “Did she give you the talk?”

Lilly covered her mouth to contain her own giggles as she nodded. She was relieved to see that Gina was becoming more like her old self now that they’d relocated to Mr. Hunter’s house. Perhaps all she’d needed was to feel secure once again.

Gina crossed the room to the bookcases and trailed one finger along the spines. “I wanted to catch you alone, Lilly, and I am afraid there will be little opportunity between now and when you become the Marchioness of Olney. Shall I have to call you Lady Lillian?”

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