about the room?”
“I - why - of course, Lady Lily.” Mrs. Sampson's head swiveled between Lily
and her daughter, until she raised a brow at the delay. “Anna, go along with
her ladyship.”
Anna looked over-flushed and discomforted, by Lily's presence or her
mother's, Lily wasn't certain. And so, she clutched at Anna's hand, tucked it
underneath her elbow and forced her into moving around the cavernous
chamber.
“Your dress is quite . . . lovely, Anna,” she said and was the first to speak.
“T-Thank you, your ladyship. You look most beautiful also!”
“Less of the ladyship. My name is Lily.”
“Oh, I thank you for the honor, my lady, but I couldn't possibly. My mother
would not be pleased at such impoliteness.”
“Your mother is not here at the moment, Anna,” she pointed out with a wry
smile. “Please. I do so hate this dreadful necessity of thrusting our nobility
about the place as though it mattered.”
“I-If you are certain, L-Lily. You do me a great honor.”
“That is quite relative I'm sure. You would be doing me a great honor
yourself, if you . . . .”
“If I could? Anything I can do to help you, Lily, please, I am at your
disposal.”
“Tell me who your modiste is?”
“Is that all?” Anna laughed and a delightful blush spread along the curve of
her cheeks.
“Of course! Your dress is beautiful and while you say that I look lovely, I feel
almost as though I'm indecently exposing myself to any number of
gentlemen here!”
“Oh that's not true! It suits you perfectly!”
“We shall agree to disagree, I fear, Anna.”
“Madame Boliage is my modiste, Lily.”
“No! If she can produce that for you, why can't she produce it for me too?
Lily complained with a groan and looked down at Anna's sweeping dress
whose crisp, fine linen gathered at the bust then fell to the floor in a
sweeping wave of material. It was bordered with a thick line of embroidery,
which matched the bust and short capped sleeves at her arm. It was
elegant, tasteful and while showing a good deal of flesh did not make the
young Anna look like a houri!
“I fear you dislike your raiment, but you look most sophisticated for your . .
. ,” the younger girl hesitated.
Lily smiled. “My age? I suppose I need not look so pure as you, Anna, but
still, appearances must be upheld, no? The good Madame had designed me a
perfectly suitable outfit and then my aunt saw fit to interfere! The nerve, I
ask you,” she finished, but was less annoyed now and was sufficiently
calmed to merely grin at her aunt's mischief with the still-shy girl beside her.
“I'm sure your aunt thought she was acting on your behalf.”
“Naturally. I should have realized she would have slipped a whispered
message to the modiste! But still, if I'm as old as she says I am then surely I
have the right to choose my own apparel,” she said, with a teasing smile.
“I fear that you are correct. To our elders, we shall always be the babes
regardless of any contradictions they choose to make!”
“Very true. Sadly, I must remain with Madame Boliage if she was the creator
of your exquisite dress,” she said with a dramatic sigh.
“Forgive me, Lily, but you do not appear to be having a diverting time of it. I
had my come out ball three weeks ago and I enjoyed it greatly. Yet, you
seem . . . well, if you will forgive my forwardness . . . rather down?”
Lily raised intrigued eyebrows. She hadn't credited Anna with astuteness nor
frankness, apparently she'd been wrong. “You think so? I hope I'm not as
transparent as all that!” she murmured wryly.
“No,” Anna replied with a smile. “But I see much more than your average
eighteen year old.”
“Ah. You are a reader of people, no?”
“Well, I wouldn't phrase it like that, Lily.”
“How would you phrase it?” she asked and nodded to one of the gentleman
who smiled at her. She hurried their pace to escape a dance invitation and
ducked her head towards Anna.
“I can see that you approve of frankness, Lily. Forgive me if it takes me a
while to adjust to your temperament for there are hardly any like us
amongst these jackals. But, in my situation, I find that as my mother tends
to dominate me and all other conversation and always has, it does me well
to read others.”
Lily chuckled at that. She had to admit that she wasn't used to such
bluntness amongst this set. In the country, it was different. Naturally people
tended to guard their tongues, but there were many who didn't, especially
the matrons. “For me, it has been rather a lesson in self-protection.”
“Yes, the number of obsequious toads in London is rather appalling, is it
not?”
Laughing, Lily flipped out her fan and raised it to cover her smile. “Yes.
Indeed. I like you, Anna. Would you call on me tomorrow?”
“Why, thank you, Lily. I share those sentiments.”
“Lady Lily? May I have this dance?” a man, she recognized as Lord Lycombe,
asked and held out a hand for her.
“Excuse me, Miss Sampson,” she murmured and took his hand. Inwardly,
she sighed and grimaced. Outwardly, she was entirely composed.
Anna bowed her head. “Til later, your ladyship.”
“I must declare upon your beauty tonight, my lady.”
“Thank you, Lord Lycombe.”
“Is your mother not here?”
“No, she remains in the dower house of our estate, I'm afraid, although she
reverts to the estate from time to time.”
“Your brother insisted and so soon?” he asked and then paused as he
stepped in to the line of dancers and was separated momentarily from her.
Lord Lycombe had been acquainted with her parents and had even attended
one of their many house parties. She was fully aware that unmarried men of
a certain age could and did make an offer to totally unsuitable females on
the mart and Lily would fight to ensure that she was not one of them!
Her brother had told her that she could have a come out, if she so wished
and believing that it would inspire her mama out of her lethargic
indifference, Lily had agreed. Julia had taken it into her head that her grief
was having a dampening effect on Lily's life and that her only daughter was
missing out on the joys of the ton. And so, she along with Devlin and Aunt
Millie had decided that this was the best way to disprove her mother's belief.
Although, Lily was quite sure that her aunt had forgotten all that, for the
older lady was quite clear in her intentions to have Lily wed by this time next
year.
Not if Lily had anything to do with it, though!
She did not particularly want to marry and if she were to do so, it would be
to a man she loved.
A creature she had yet to meet and one she doubted even existed and so,
here she was. Dancing with an old rake hell who more than likely had sights
on her fortune and beauty. Lily was many things, but immodest was not one
of them. She had seen her appearance in the mirror and while she was not
an ord
inary beauty, not enough to be classed as a diamond of the first water
at any rate, Lily had had sufficient admirers to know that she was found
attractive and combined with name, rank and dowry, her aunt had told her
that she would be lucky not to be surrounded by hordes of men.
The thought did not fill her with happiness.
The future months ahead of her seemed dire if the prospect was spending
time with men that wanted her for anything but the parts that truly made
her Lily. Parts like integrity and intelligence, kindness and generosity. No,
they simply saw her auburn hair, green cat eyes and the smart figure that
had her looking svelte in even the largest of pelisses!
“No, Devlin did not require it,” she retorted with a bite, when they met once
more on the floor. It was then that she remembered not having seen
Lycombe on the approved list of people to invite, which meant that, once
again, Aunt Millie had interfered! “Mama simply thought it time to move out
and the house is full of memories. Naturally, she felt overburdened by them.
Although, I believe that with time she will return to the house. At the
moment, the memories are too hard for her to handle, but with time I'm
sure she will grow to appreciate and relish them.”
“Is Devlin in town too?” he asked, his breathing heavy.
She shook her head and circled another gentleman, a veritable coxcomb
whose inexpressibles were indecently tight.
Dancing with him for a moment, she found herself entirely uninterested in
him and became centered in her own thoughts, which to be truthful had
taken on a slightly melancholic nature after discussing her mother.
In a way, it stopped her from feeling like a selfish and ungrateful beast for
not enjoying any of this party, because in truth, she was feeling as awful as
her mama.
The Mercer family had always been extremely close and even Devlin felt as
though they were a ship that had lost its rudder without their father. The
late Marquess had been a good and loving papa and she missed him sorely.
Even though eighteen months had passed, it still felt as though he had been
with them yesterday so she could easily understand why her mama could
not let go.
A part of her had hoped that coming here, experiencing the life of a woman
who had been accepted into London society would fill a hole, but it had not.
It had merely caused a larger ache. Being away from her mama and brother
was simply awful. How could she be expected to enjoy herself at this
frivolous excuse for entertainment, when she was both home- and heartsick?
Sighing inwardly, Lily curtsied as Lord Lycombe bowed and the tinkling piano
and the rest of the orchestra came to an echoing and resonant end. He took
her arm and led her once more to the refreshment table. She spied her aunt
and excused herself with a slight smile and another bobbing curtsy and then
fled to the relative safety of her eccentric aunt. At least Millie did not want to
marry her!
Quickly, Lily grabbed her arm and smiled down warmly at the diminutive yet
larger than life figure before her. Politely nodding to each of her aunt's
companions, she delicately coughed. “Excuse us,” she murmured softly.
As they stepped away, Aunt Millie glared at her. “What on earth is the
matter, Lily? I was enjoying my conversation with Isabelle before you rudely
interrupted!” she muttered crossly.
“Is Lord Lycombe on the hunt for a wife?” she hissed, ignoring her aunt's
annoyance entirely.
“Well, he has no heir, love. And his wife died two years ago. So of course.”
Lily shook her head in perplexity. “And? Did that mean you had to invite him
to my come out? I refuse to marry him, aunt. He's older than my father!”
Millie patted her on the arm.
“And don't placate me, aunt. I know that I don't have to marry, if that is my
choice!” Thank the Lord for papa's stipulation in his will- it protected and
gave her the choice to marry when or if she wanted. “Why invite him? I
thought I approved the list?”
Millie patted her nose with her closed fan. “There were a few eligibles that I
added.” Seeing Lily's ire, she tittered in a way that irritated Lily all the more.
“Tis my duty to ensure that you have a good come out, Lily,” she whispered,
her voice serious.
“You consider a six and fifty year old man an eligible? Good Lord above,
aunt! What are you trying to do to me?”
“I'm doing my duty by you and your mother,” Millie replied stubbornly.
“Well, don't! If that gives you the right to make me miserable, then simply
don't! Honestly, aunt, I'm not a green girl straight out of the school room,”
she spat. “I'm a grown woman! I can and will make my own choice and will
not be forced. I only agreed to this ridiculous farce for mother's benefit. I
thought it would prove that I'm not missing out on life by remaining at
Grantlake and I had also hoped that she would come to London and that it
would bring her out of the depression in which she has sunk!”
“Why you can't be like any of the other girls here, I don't know!” Millie
commented with an irritated scowl.
“Oh yes, aunt, let's just wish upon them a dead father and a broken-hearted
mother just so that they can enjoy a good ball!”
“Don't be ridiculous! Your mother isn't broken-hearted!”
“Isn't she? Isn't she really? When was the last time you visited her? If you
had, then you'd see that she has lost far too much weight and is literally
wasting away! But what does that count for aught? You're just interested in
marrying me off! Regardless of whether or not the man is suitable or even
my own age! Lord Lycombe is a rake hell, an aged and decrepit one at that!
And you wish me to associate with him?” Lily's eyes flashed with her fury.
“Oh! Where is your uncle? He'd explain all of this!”
“So it was Uncle George's idea?” Lily huffed. “I don't believe it. Lord
Lycombe and he can hardly even bear to look at one another!”
“No, well, it . . . .” Millie licked her lips and looked about the corner in which
they stood. They were close to the orchestras, so could not be overheard but
if there were plenty of girls like Anna about the room, women that could
read a situation and successfully, then a scandal would soon be borne!
“What did you think to earn from this situation, aunt?”
Shrugging weakly, the older woman frowned down at her fan. “I-I, well, I
simply wanted this to be successful for you. Tis all! Not a crime, is it?” she
said defensively.
“No,” Lily sighed. “It isn't a crime, but it is deceitful! You know that I wanted
to be in control of my come out. And here I am! Dressed in a totally
inappropriate dress, because you meddled with the modiste! Then I find
myself dancing with passé gentlemen! Whatever next? I beg you not to
interfere, aunt! For I shall simply return to Cheshire if you continue in the
same vein.”
“Don't be silly, love,” Millie said, her face panicked. “You can't do that! Think
of your reputation! Think of the gossip.”
“I would not worry about that, aunt.
I have cut almost every single
gentleman present and yet they still simper at my heels. I possess the three
'C's' don't you know, connections, capital, and comeliness.”
“Rather immodest, dear,” Aunt Millie responded with a flutter of her fan, but
she did not, Lily noted, disagree.
“Apparently not,” was Lily's taciturn reply. “For I cut and cut and cut, yet still
they smile!”
“You shouldn't be cutting the gentlemen! Honestly! Are you even trying to
find a suitable man to marry? I shall tell your uncle!”
“You tell him, aunt. Pray do! Especially if he can protect me from the likes of
Lord Lycombe!” she uttered, her voice filled with disgust.
Millie glared at her and spun around on her stacked heel and stalked away
with her nose in the air.
Lily merely raised a brow at the tabbies across the room, who stared at her
and smiled inwardly as they ducked their heads. She knew for a fact that
she had the highest rank in this ballroom. For the first time in her life, Lily
understood the importance of society position. She could also understand
why Prinny and his wife managed to subsist in England, when they were
both adulterers! Whispers that became shouts were of no importance when
one was lofty in the social strata.
Inwardly, Lily was disgusted by this rank display of snobbishness. She was
rather hypocritical in that she could enjoy it but disapprove of it at the same
time, but then, such was life!
Lily looked about the room, heard the tinkling of the piano and the slow,
somnolent strokes as the violinist played his instrument and watched the
breathless excitement of the dancers as they enjoyed the quadrille. A part of
her wished that she could share that heady pleasure, but perhaps her
content but socially aware upbringing meant that she simply couldn't, that to
watch this opulent display was both appealing and repellent to her fastidious
nature, that rather than with joy and amusement, she viewed it all with rank
cynicism.
She was unsure as to whether this upset her or not. For was it not every
daughter of the peerage's right to have and enjoy this kind of celebration?
In truth, Lily would have been far happier had she had her mother by her
side, as they ate a simple dinner and finally, after all these months, could
tease a smile out of her. That was a more precious gift than she could ever