Unlacing Lilly. Gail Ranstrom
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She stood and gave the Duke of Rutherford the barest possible curtsy. “Thank you for a most enjoyable evening, but Mama and I should be returning home. I do not want to come to the wedding exhausted.”
“If,” the duchess emphasized with a glance at Mama, “there is to be a wedding.”
Oh! What else could possibly go wrong? Surely Olney’s parents would not withdraw their consent? A cold dread invaded Lilly’s vitals.
Chapter Four
“All I asked was that you locate where the O’Rourkes from Belfast are living.” Devlin took a breath and tried to curb his impatience. He was never at his best in the morning.
Jack Higgins sat across the desk from him, his rugged face furrowed in concern. “And I did. But they are gone.”
“That doesn’t make sense, Jack. Where in blazes would the family go when Miss O’Rourke is about to marry a marquis?”
“That appears to be the problem. The logical conclusion was that they had removed to other lodgings. But I was stymied. London is too large to go knocking door to door.”
“Are you certain they are gone?”
“When there was no sign of a light or life within, I picked the lock on the garden door. They must have let the place furnished because all the furniture remains, but there’s not a single personal item to be found.”
Devlin gritted his teeth. No, damn it! He was too close to let this opportunity slip away. He had to find her. Had to know where she would be at the precise moment he was ready. “The neighbors would know something.”
“I already queried them, Farrell. Let me tell you, they were not pleased to be called from their beds at midnight to answer questions about the O’Rourkes.”
“What did you tell them?”
“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