Page 33 of A Gentleman's Kiss
A wide smile spread on the duke’s face, the last reaction Dominick expected.
“Lillian, eh?” He stuck the cigar in his mouth and appeared to be mulling it over in his mind. “She is something. I remember her as a little girl, sitting on my lap and telling me great stories. My brother was so proud of her. She would have made a wonderful daughter to me.” His eyes twinkled as he reminisced.
Dominick waited, holding his breath. He dare not move until he heard an answer.
“You have more than my permission, Wessex. Her father would have been honored. He has, of course, left her a substantial dowry. In addition to his investments, he owned quite a bit of land in the Americas, which I kept and will give to you.”
Dominick wanted to jump into the air and kick his heels. The Duke had given his permission! He could marry her! She would be his wife! He’d never felt happier in his life—except for perhaps those precious moments in the orangery with Lillian.
“Your Grace, begging your pardon, but I want to marry your niece because I love her. A dowry is not necessary.”
“Then I shall give it to her, and she can choose to do with it what she will. Fair enough?” Lord Whitmore stood and extended his hand.
Dominick nodded, and stood as well. A great weight lifted from his shoulders. His face split wide with a smile. He shook the firm hand of the duke, happy to know he was such a good man.
“More than fair.” Dominick thought a moment. “Actually would you mind keeping the property a secret? I wish to surprise her about her home in the Americas.” From what he knew, it would probably take some convincing for Lillian to go back to America.
The duke’s smile widened. “An excellent idea.”
“Thank you, Sir. I shall find her directly. Is she home?”
A sharp knock at the door interrupted them. It was the housekeeper. Her fierce gaze darted about, and her lips, forming a firm thin line, were white from how tightly she clenched them.
“What is it, Mrs. Rowe?” the duke asked, annoyed at the intrusion.
“Your Grace, Lillian is missing. No one saw her leave, except the groomsman who saddled her mare,” the woman said.
“She came to Cambridge Estate when I wasn’t home, and left me a note to come and see her. I did not think much of it. I assumed she went straight home,” Dominick said, dreading her disappearance was his fault.
The duke nodded. “Let us check the park. She has found solace there these many past weeks. Poor thing is grieving madly for her parents.”
Dominick felt like a fool, sitting there chatting with the duke all the while, Lillian wondered about the streets of London, running into God knows what. Ruffians, thieves, pickpockets… When he arrived, he’d hoped to speak with the duke and then ease her worries by formally asking for her hand.
She could be anywhere now!
“I’ll go for her,” he said sternly before hurrying from the house.
He hoped he could find her, and soon.
Dominick rode like a bat out of hell down the street toward Hyde Park. He prayed with every fiber in his body, he would find her there. There was no telling what could happen to a beautiful young lady with no escort and no idea about the dangers roving the streets of London.
He was almost thrown from his horse by the sight of her. Pretty as an angel, sitting on the grass, her back against a tree, picking petals from a flower. The way the sun shone through the trees left a golden halo above her silken locks.
Her rosy lips were pursed as if in concentration. The creamy milk of her skin tinged red at the cheeks. Dominick wanted to run to her but forced himself to move slowly.
“It is a beautiful day to pick flowers, my love.”
Lillian looked up with her big blue eyes, shocked to see him there. Her eyes were rimmed pink from crying. She flashed him a smile before lowering her gaze.
“I didn’t think you would find me here.”
“Why ever not?” He dismounted, his eyes never leaving her.
“Dominick, is it true?”
“Is what true?”
Lillian swiped at a tear threatening to creep down her face.
