Page 12 of Forever and a Duke (The Bridewell Sisters #1)

CHAPTER 11

G riffin opened his eyes, stunned to find Lily’s back to his as he held her against him.

She rested peacefully, her hair tickling his cheek, her long legs tangled in his.

For the first time in six months, he’d slept through the night without waking, without night terrors of a past loss he could not change or a future loss he feared.

When he stroked his fingers through her hair, Lily let out a contented sigh and stretched.

“I could get used to this,” she said, her voice a sultry, sleep-tinged rasp.

Griffin was already aching for her again and murmured his agreement.

She arched back against his hard length, and he reached up to fill his hand with the lush swell of her breast. Just as he bent to kiss the tantalizing nape of her neck, a knock sounded at his bedchamber door.

The hazy peach light of dawn peeking through the curtains told him it was early, and he lifted up to squint at the clock on the mantel to confirm it.

Lily tensed beside him. “Something must be wrong.”

He kissed her bare shoulder. “I’ll see to it.”

The act of getting out of bed and leaving her frustrated him almost as much as the incessant knocking. Quickly, he retrieved his robe and donned it, then opened the door a crack.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” one of the footmen, Thomas, said nervously. “The dowager duchess bids you?—”

“Oh, do step aside, young man,” his grandmother said from behind the lanky servant. “I shall see to this. Go down and assist with the crisis.”

The footman retreated, and his grandmother surged forward, all but pushing into the room.

“I must speak to you, Griffin. Urgently.”

“What’s happened?” Lily said from behind him. She’d gotten out of bed and wrapped herself a coverlet.

“May I come in and speak to both of you? This concerns Lily as well.”

Griffin tipped a look back at Lily, and she immediately nodded her assent.

He opened the door wider, and his grandmother stormed into the room.

A frantic sort of energy seemed to animate her as she stood before them twisting one of her kerchiefs in her hands.

“We have a problem,” she said, unmistakable vexation in her tone. “A kitten problem.” At those words, she fixed her gaze on Lily.

“A what?” Griffin wasn’t certain he’d heard her properly.

“Oh my,” Lily said softly.

“ And a rabid hedgehog problem, which has frightened Sally and Anna nearly to death.”

“She’s not at all rabid.” Lily stepped forward to face his grandmother. “Give me a moment to dress, and I’ll be down to fix this.”

“By fix, I presume you mean removing those creatures from Rosemere for good.”

Lily looked back at him, and he recognized the worried frown pinching her brows together. It was the expression she wore when she’d found some wounded, needy thing and knew it required mending.

Understanding began to dawn on him. “Give us both a few moments, and we’ll come down.”

“This is not acceptable at Rosemere. For heaven’s sake, we have a dozen guests arriving in hours,” his grandmother offered in her most imperious tone, giving no indication she planned to depart and allow them to dress. “Your sisters explained that this was quite common in the past,” she said, her gaze fixed on Lily, “but you left that unruly life behind when you took on the role of Duchess of Edgerton.”

“Unruly?” Lily straightened and lifted her chin. “Briarfield was not an unruly household, Your Grace. But it was one where compassion was our pole star. And it always guided us well.”

“Guided you to anarchy, you mean? To a household full of sickly wild creatures and daughters almost as wild?”

“Enough,” Griffin said in a low but firm tone.

Behind him, Lily bristled. Griffin even heard a little huff of outrage emerge, and though he trusted his wife to hold her own in the face of his grandmother’s ire, he stepped between them.

“Grandmama, as I said, we will be down directly. You must allow us to dress.”

She eyed them both, her lips seamed into a tight line and then offered the slightest dip of her head before striding out of his bedchamber.

“I’m sorry,” Lily said when he turned, but then her eyes flashed. “You did tell us we could bring anything that belonged to us when moved to Rosemere.”

Griffin reached for her arms, stroking her bare skin. “And I take it kittens and a hedgehog were among those precious belongings?”

“Actually, it was one cat in a delicate condition, a hedgehog, and two mice.” She cast a fretful look toward the bedchamber door. “It sounds as if none of them have found the mice yet, but I suspect the staff will see them as vermin and?—”

Her voice broke, and Griffin swallowed hard. “Then we must dress quickly and go down to make sure no harm comes to them.”

Eyes wide, she looked shocked. “You’re not upset?”

Griffin cradled her cheek against his palm. “How could I be upset that you have a heart to help the wounded? That you recognize the value of a life and help any ailing creature, whether it be a clumsy duke with a twisted ankle or a mouse.”

“In fairness, you weren’t clumsy,” she said with a flicker of a smile. “I’d dug a deceptively large hole.”

“And despite my sore ankle, I quite like remembering that day.”

“Do you?”

“Oh yes.” He bent until his forehead rested against hers. “I made the best decision of my life that day.”

Lily tipped his chin up and kissed him softly. “I think I did too.”

“You think?” he teased, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her closer.

“I’m reserving judgement until I determine whether I make a debacle of this house party,” she said, her eyes full of warmth. “I want to know I can pull off being a duchess.”

“You already do every day. It’s you I chose, you I want, not just to fill a role.”

She lowered her gaze, then met his again. “I know.”

“Now,” he told her, then kissed the tip of her nose, “let’s go save those mice. Do they have names?”

“Of course.” Lily laughed softly. “Elinor and Edward.”

“Of course.” Griffin shook his head. “I’m sure they’re a charming pair. Dress as quick as you can.”

Lily went downstairs side by side with Griffin, and as they proceeded through the hall together, she observed the chaos unfolding.

One housemaid stood crying near the threshold of the conservatory, while another comforted her.

Two footman bickered inside the conservatory, and Ivy remonstrated in the most strident tones with the Dowager Duchess of Edgerton.

Lily rushed forward to intervene at the same moment Hyacinth and Marigold dashed from the opposite direction. Each of them clutched one of Griffin’s hands.

“We need him,” Mari told her earnestly. “Just for a few moments.”

Griffin nodded when Lily looked back at him. “I’ll come into the conservatory straightaway.”

Lily lifted the edge of her skirt and nearly ran to head off an all-out battle between Ivy and the dowager.

“She wants to put the kittens in the barn,” Ivy told Lily as soon as she spotted her. “They won’t be safe there.”

“They’re destined to be barn cats. It’s where they should be.” The dowager duchess spoke the words as if she were repeating them and had grown tired of the recitation.

Lily stepped forward, a hand on Ivy’s arm. “My sister is correct, Your Grace. This young, they won’t be safe in the barn. It’s too easy for predators to get to them.” Lily glanced at the footmen arguing over how to catch a hedgehog and wondered where Henrietta had gotten to. “For now, we must keep them inside,” she said as she turned to face the dowager.

“That won’t do.” The dowager drew in a sharp breath.

A skirmish with her grandmother-in-law a few hours before a houseful of guests arrived was nothing Lily wanted, and yet she knew that Rosemere was certainly large enough to house a mother cat, a few kittens, a hedgehog, and two mice.

“We’ll find a place for them,” Lily insisted.

The dowager duchess shook her head before Lily could even finish speaking.

“That is not the way things work at Rosemere.”

“We can adjust,” Griffin said as he strode into the conservatory and shot Lily a meaningful look.

A scream echoed off the high glass ceiling of the conservatory and they all turned to see a maid, who’d hopped up into one of the raised beds as Henrietta trundled along the white-and-black diamond pattern of the conservatory’s floor tiles.

“Get her, will you?” Lily asked Ivy, who, blessedly, merely nodded and headed off, scooping the hedgehog up a moment later.

“I’ll secure her,” Ivy said before hurrying out of the conservatory.

The dowager’s expression turned harried. “Where on earth is she going with that beast?”

“She’ll make sure Hettie?—”

“You give these sickly creatures names? They are not pets,” the dowager all but spat.

Griffin stepped forward until his shirt sleeve brushed her arm. “They are in Lily’s care, and as such, we shall find a proper place for them at Rosemere.”

His grandmother’s eyes took on a fierce resolve. “May I speak to you alone , Griffin?”

As he stood beside her, Lily felt the tension fill his frame. She glanced up to see a muscle jumping at the edge of his cheek as if he was clenching his teeth. The urge to touch him nearly overwhelmed him, and she leaned a bit closer.

He glanced down at her, then faced his grandmother again. “I need to speak to my wife. If you go to my study, I’ll join you there momentarily.”

Lily watched emotions flit over the dowager’s face—irritation, confusion, and then finally acceptance.

“Very well,” she said with a nod.

When she’d gone, Griffin drew Lily over to the edge of the conservatory behind a stand of newly planted palms.

“What did the twins want with you?” she asked him.

He grinned and the tension in his shoulders seemed to ebb. Bending his head, he whispered, “We’ve secured Elinor and Edward. The groundskeeper provided the twins with a cage for them and one of the housemaids is sending up food.”

“Thank you.” Lily arched up to kiss Griffin’s cheek. “They were emaciated when we found them. We think they were poisoned as rodents often are. I think they’re siblings since they don’t seem to have mated, so I don’t think we need worry about a bunch of mice pups.”

“Duly noted.” At that Griffin’s eyes positively twinkled.

Lily’s cheeks warmed. Without saying a word, she knew they were both thinking of last night. Just as she knew that if his grandmother had not interrupted them, they would have made love again. Might be doing so at this very moment.

Anticipation for the next time almost made her breathless.

“Will you forgive me?” he asked, stroking the backs of his fingers along her cheek.

“Forgive you for what?”

“It may seem that I’ve capitulated to my grandmother by agreeing to speak to her alone, but I assure you I will not waver.” He cast a glance over his shoulder as if to make sure no one could see them, then he bent his head and took her mouth. Without hesitation, Lily opened to him, stroking her tongue against his.

By the time he lifted his head, her knees felt as if they were made of custard. He rested his forehead against hers a moment as if to steady himself.

“She cannot wedge us apart,” he vowed with as much earnestness as he had on the altar.

“I trust you,” Lily whispered, then lifted onto her toes to kiss him again.

Griffin stiffened, then turned his body to shelter her when they heard footsteps on the conservatory tiles.

“All’s well,” Ivy told them, her voice echoing up to the glass ceiling. Then she stepped closer and whispered, “All patients have been secured, and Anna and Sally have even stopped being screaming like ninnies at Henrietta.”

Griffin frowned down at Lily.

“The hedgehog,” she whispered. “Thank you, Ivy. I’ll be out in a moment.”

After a moment, Ivy’s footsteps retreated but then slowed to a stop. “You know, you might as well finish kissing or whatever you’re doing because it will be much harder once the house is full of guests.”

“Thank you for the encouragement, Ivy,” Griffin called to her.

“It wasn’t encouragement. Just practical.”

Practical . That’s what they said this marriage would be, and yet it had become so much more so quickly. Lily’s heart felt as full as it ever had, and she could feel Griffin’s affection for her in turn. He hadn’t said the three words she longed to hear, and she’d struggled to hold them back last night as they’d made love and been closer than they’d ever been.

But she felt desired. Cared for. Cherished. And, for now, that was enough.

Lily looked up at the man who held her in his arms and looked at her as if he wanted to push her against the conservatory wall and take her again.

“You should go and speak to the dowager,” she told him, even as she ached to unfasten the buttons of his shirt and waistcoat, shed her dress, and feel his bare skin against hers.

He drew in a long breath and groaned. “You’re right. I must go. I’ll find you again before the guests arrive.”

“You’d better,” Lily told him. “I don’t want to greet all these strangers on my own.”

He kissed her on the forehead and then strode away.

Griffin strode into his study and found his grandmother sitting like a queen upon her throne in one of the wingbacks in front of the fireplace.

She exhibited perfect posture, her chin was lifted in the most regal way, and her bejeweled hands rested on the arms of the chair.

“How did she manage to delay you?” she asked without turning his way. “I imagine it didn’t take much as you seem quite besotted, my boy.”

The my boy had never grated before. It had seemed an endearment, a shared reminder of how much time they’d spent together when he was a boy, since his father had little interest in spending time with his spare heir. And the besotted he was expecting. He couldn’t hide how he felt Lily and didn’t want to.

“She’s my wife, and, yes, my feelings for her grow stronger each day. I won’t apologize for that.”

She finally turned her incisive gaze his way. “So it is a love match after all?”

Griffin swallowed hard. Something in him held back from admitting that much, from allowing himself to go that far, to feel that deeply. He was holding a part of himself back, but it also felt as if he was protecting Lily. Or so he told himself.

His grandmother nodded as if he had replied. “So perhaps it’s just possessiveness.”

Griffin gritted his teeth. “Why did you ask to speak to me alone?”

His grandmother rose from her chair and took up a spot in front of him, holding his gaze in that steely manner of hers. “What is it that you expect from your duchess?”

Griffin scoffed and closed his eyes a moment, trying not to chuckle.

“Is that question somehow amusing?”

“Only because Lily asked me much the same recently.”

His grandmother blinked and a tight smile curved her lips. “I’m honestly pleased to hear that. She is, at times, a most sensible young woman. At other times, she confounds me. But I’d still like to know your answer.”

Lily was the only answer that came to Griffin’s mind. She was what he expected of a duchess. Kind, warm, gracious, intelligent. A woman with a heart for others and an ability to rise to challenges that came her way.

“Let me put my query another way,” his grandmother said, bristling when he gave her no answer. “What are Lily’s responsibilities?”

“I do not like being asked questions that both of us know the answer to. What is your point, Grandmama?”

“My point, dear boy, is that taking in sickly vermin cannot be on the list. She is not an expert in animal husbandry. Nor is she a physician of any sort. She simply cannot be if she is to be Duchess of Edgerton.” Her voice had risen as she spoke, as had the color in her cheeks. “One would hope she understood the honor of becoming your duchess, and that she might forfeit her…hobbies as a result.”

Griffin’s hands clenched into fists. The tension in his body felt as if it would snap him in two.

Hobby had been the word spat by his father more times than he could recall. It was how he referred to Griffin’s mother’s talent for art. That she’d taken it beyond the simple banality of ladylike watercolors to paint portraits with passion and bold strokes of oil had enraged him for reasons Griffin could never comprehend.

Then, of course, when he’d discovered one of Griffin’s sketchbooks, he’d spat the word again, but he’d added more. Disappointment. Disgrace. Wastrel.

“ Such trifling suits you, I suppose ” were words that had somehow stuck in Griffin’s mind.

Griffin pulled his shoulders back, let his fists unfurl, and looked his grandmother in the eyes.

“Lily is allowed to be more than a prescribed list of attributes. She’s a flesh and blood woman with aptitudes and interests.” He realized he was barking as his father used to and softened his tone, desperate for his grandmother to understand. “She was raised by a doctor and has the heart of a healer. That’s the person I knew she was when I chose her. Why would I wish her to be something else?”

His grandmother worked her jaw, dropped her gaze to the dark floral rug, and then looked up at him.

“The duties of a dukedom are all-encompassing. I thought you understood that, or would grow to. She needs to understand that too. There’s very little room for whimsy. There’s no place for fanciful hobbies.”

Griffin let out a sigh, and the weight that lifted whenever he was with Lily seemed to settle on his chest again. “I love you, Grandmama, and you’ve been an extraordinary help and ally to me. And all agree that you are a formidable Duchess of Edgerton.” He stepped forward and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “But in this matter, you and I will simply have to disagree.”

He bent and bussed her cheek. Then he straightened. “I need to go to Lily and help greet our guests.”

She offered no reply and made no move to stop him as headed toward the study door.

But just as he reached the threshold, she said quietly, “You will see. In time, you will see.”

Griffin kept walking. He heard his grandmother’s warning tone, but it could not blot the happiness he’d found in the last few days. It could not stem the hope he had for the future.

He and Lily had agreed to blaze their own path, and they would.