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    Persuasion

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      that was richer than he had expected.

      Chapter Four

      Tapping her fan rhythmically against her knee, Lily perused the darkened

      cave of the carriage in which she was seated with a gloomy frown. And

      gloomy was the apropos word. She had felt thus ever since Lady Greene's

      ball two nights ago and as the days had passed, Lily felt as though she were

      merely sinking deeper into the quagmire of despondent malaise that had

      overcome her since she had first met the Earl fforbes-Hyde.

      A period of self-analysis had overtaken her that first night. She had analyzed

      her feelings for the Earl and still felt confused by them. Indeed Lily felt more

      than confused, she was in truth completely bewildered by the entire

      situation. When she had finally comprehended what the man in the shadows

      was asking her to do, she had realized that her good name would be no

      more, that her family name would forever be besmirched. And while honor

      meant nothing in comparison to her mother's safety, now everything felt as

      though it had changed. And that was because it had and not for the good.

      Of course, her mother's safety was as vital as ever. But now, the man she

      was supposed to seduce was the first man to have ever touched her in the

      most fiercely guarded of places, her heart. And what did that mean? She

      was sure that it could mean nothing good. That it could only mean that

      heartbreak for her was on the horizon. This Earl, who she hardly knew, in

      fact knew hardly at all, had changed her in ways she could not comprehend.

      The way he had made her feel, was like nothing she had ever experienced

      and it still had the power to send shivers rushing along the length of her

      spine. When she thought of him, and she did frequently and not as the

      target of her seduction, but as the man, the Earl, who could possibly be the

      one to melt her frozen heart.

      Why he had affected her thus, Lily did not know. How she wished that she

      did. That she could understand the way he made her feel. But then she

      supposed that had she experienced this before, then she would not be

      worrying. Would not be contemplating what it all meant, for he would mean

      less than nothing to her.

      At this moment, she could only believe that this man, this Earl could be the

      one she was supposed to love until the day she died. Perhaps that was

      rather melodramatic, but having never experienced the like, how was she

      supposed to know any differently? Never had she felt this way about another

      person outside of her close-knit family. And that, in and of itself, led her to

      one conclusion, that she could and did love this man. Regardless of time

      constraints, or the pressure of the situation she was in, Lily was like her

      mother in that she had fallen instantly in love with a man and had known

      that he was meant for her.

      And because of the bedamned blackmailer, the future was not as perfect as

      it should have been. Indeed, it would be anything but perfect. In order to

      keep her mother safe, she would have to shame herself before him and ruin

      anything of merit that they might have had with one another.

      Lily would simultaneously be besmirching her character before a man who

      could mean the world to her, but were he to take her up on this proposed

      seduction then she too would lose the halcyonic glow her mind created

      whenever she thought of him. For what kind of man would accept a

      seduction from a virginal debutante? Especially when one considered the

      society in which they both lived. Without the titles of pure and virginal,

      marriage agreements were difficult to come by. Lily believed that even for

      herself; a chit with beauty, titles and a dowry, it would be rather difficult to

      find a man willing to take her on as his bride. The ton was a hypocritical

      place in which to live, but . . . such was life. And Lily found herself in a

      somewhat vicious circle where a future, she felt sure could be a happy for

      them both, was in serious peril.

      Until now, thoughts of husbands and suitors had taken up very little space in

      her mind and now, when she was about to lose any hope of ever being

      married, did she realize that a family which was established on love was all

      she wanted in life.

      How perverse was fate when one only realized what one wanted, when it

      was forever lost.

      Gulping a little at the thought, Lily flusteredly spread open her fan and

      fluttered it before her face. The slight breeze it wafted her way gave her

      some relief but not enough to ease her soul. At that moment, she felt

      unbearably cloistered by the small confines of the carriage in which she was

      traveling and a desire to simply jump out of the conveyance and rush into

      the misty London night overwhelmed her. While she had always been

      confined by society's dictates, never had she felt as imprisoned as she did at

      this moment. Lily felt almost as though she were trapped in a maze where

      both left and right led her merely deeper into its constraining grasp and

      further away from the exit.

      Closing her eyes, she sucked in a deep breath and wished to God that she

      could reverse time. Wholeheartedly, Lily wished that she had not attended

      all of the events that had led her on to this path and that she was once more

      the bored débutante of only three weeks past.

      But she wasn't, Lily was about to make herself a whore in return for her

      mother's life and time could not be reversed. No matter how hard one tried.

      Shaking her head at the thought, she once more turned her face towards the

      passing streets as they were conveyed by them. Aunt Millie, her uncle and

      herself were due to attend yet another ball, only this time she could not be

      disinterested in the affair as was her wont. To be disinterested could be

      dangerous and so, Lily fully expected that she had an abhorrent night ahead

      of her.

      Self-pity was never the wisest of emotions, but surely, at a time such as

      this, Lily deserved to feel at least a tad dismayed by her situation.

      Distraught by everything that she was about to lose and all in the name of

      saving a parent she loved from harm.

      Lily turned her thoughts away from the extortionate demands of her

      blackmailer, for they were certain to make her cry. Instead, she turned them

      towards this morning and the missive she had received from him. Thinking

      about the cause and effect of the situation always saddened and

      overwhelmed her. But thinking about his indecency and his effrontery

      infuriated her more than anything else and fury was a much more pleasant

      emotion with which to live. Sadness and anger were both negative in their

      fields, but sadness drained where anger fueled. And Lily much preferred the

      latter over the former!

      The missive's contents had caused her many a problem this morning. For

      that night, they had been due to attend a musical. The letter had informed

      her that Earl fforbes-Hyde would be at Lady Ipswich's ball and that Lily had

      to attend this event and no other.

      In order to acquiesce with the message's contents, and for the first time in

      her life, Lily had thrown a tantrum, thrown one of her aunt's best pieces of

      breakfast china to the
    ground and demanded that they attend the soirée.

      Lily had a cool and calm temperament and just thinking of her misbehavior

      this morning was enough to make her blush! She had not even known that

      she possessed the qualities to even throw a fit of temper and to say that her

      aunt had been surprised was an understatement.

      Even in her present low mood, Lily's lips twitched at the memory.

      Her aunt's eyebrows had almost hit her coiffure! And her mouth had popped

      open and shut like one of the carp that resided in the village millpond near

      Grantlake. In fact, even though the thought was rather ungenerous, Aunt

      Millie's choice of attire had also reminded her of the golden fish that lived

      near her home in Cheshire. A gleaming yellow and orange turban had been

      perched atop her head along with a rather large peacock's feather. Then had

      come a voluminous concoction of gold and red chiffon, which had all married

      together to produce an image of a goldfish. Although her aunt's

      surroundings had been a lot more glamorous than that of the fishy craniate!

      They had both taken their breakfast in Millie's salon, a rather pretty pink

      room which was lit by the sun in the morning and then gently shadowed at

      dusk. Seated at a small Louis XV table, they had sipped at their morning

      chocolate and nibbled upon lightly buttered toast as they had sorted through

      the morning post. Alas Lily had disturbed the pretty picture by demanding

      they attend Lady Ipswich's ball and although her aunt had been startled by

      the request, Lily believed that she had also been pleased by her niece's

      sudden interest in the social occasions they attended! For Millie had oft

      made it known that Lillie's distinct disinterest was not normal for a girl of her

      age.

      In truth, because of her aunt's obvious pleasure, Lily had soon ceased to feel

      any guilt about the entire thing! Especially as Aunt Millie quite clearly

      believed that this interest stemmed from a man and her excitement had

      visibly trebled. Millie could be quite incorrigible and unfortunately Lily had

      merely nourished that most irritating of characteristics by behaving so out of

      character.

      With a faint smile at the thought, for Millie could be very humorous at times,

      Lily looked up at the misty, black sky and as she took in the faintly

      glimmering stars which were difficult to see through the thickened air, her

      smile disintegrated into dust. Running her tongue along the back of her

      teeth, Lily wished to high heavens that she was at Grantlake, and not about

      to partake in an event which would forever alter the course of her life.

      She knew not what the evening held. Knowing the gist of something was not

      the same as knowing exactly what would occur. Lily knew not whether she

      would be meeting with the Earl again or Dorian as her aunt had informed her

      that morning, or whether she would be rendezvous-ing with her blackmailer.

      From his behavior, it would not have surprised Lily to learn that the missive

      was false, that the Earl was elsewhere and that the blackmailer was simply

      ensuring her presence at a ball he was attending so as to pass on further

      instructions verbally rather than a note, which could be used against him in

      the future.

      Were she to meet with either Dorian or the bastard who was intent on

      destroying her life, Lily wanted to see neither of them. In truth, she was sick

      and tired of thinking of them both and wished simply to escape from her

      thoughts! But neither, she realized, did she wish to attend this ball. Almost

      as soon as she thought that, the carriage came to a halt outside of Lady

      Ipswich's home and she climbed out of its confines with the help of her

      uncle's forearm.

      Lily determined to make the best of it. For it did no good to dwell on that

      which was already decided and by a higher power than herself. She

      determined to show a nonchalant face and almost as though her change in

      attitude assisted her, as she was led through the polite niceties and was

      greeted and welcomed by Lady Ipswich and her daughter, Lily realized that

      the event would pass her by in a blur, were she not to focus on anything.

      Biting her lip at the thought, she let her eyes trace over the front hall of the

      impressive mansion and felt quite the opposite. Yes, the entry was as large

      as a cave. Yes, there were grand paintings of past members of the Ipswich

      family and yes, there were indeed rather grand furnishings. From ornate and

      colorful tapestries that were almost three times Lily's height to a random

      piece of objet d'art that would probably feed ten families for an entire year.

      But there was no soul.

      It was a mansion that was constructed and decorated merely to display the

      Ipswich's vulgar wealth. Her lip curled at that, for wealth to Lily was vulgar.

      She herself possessed it, as did her family, but their homes were just that,

      home. A place for family and friends and filled with love. Not displays of their

      coffers!

      She let her eyes trace the room and realized that this ball would be the

      same as any other, another boring, tedious evening to be spent with boring

      and tedious people.

      Inwardly, Lily sighed. She was tired of feeling and being maudlin. But what

      could she do? Her position seemed to inspire it. Ever since her father's

      death, she had ceased to view the world through the rosy hues of childhood.

      And thereafter, her cynicism had steadily increased to the point where she

      felt naught but the most negative of emotions. Lily was tired of feeling this

      way. Was tired of being so . . . the only word she could think of, was

      depressed. It was enough to inspire a girl to take laudanum!

      She almost snorted at the thought. Were her aunt to know how deeply her

      niece was dejected, then Lily knew she would have been doused with the

      drug from the very start of the Season!

      Feeling her uncle tug gently at her wrist, Lily turned to him with a faint

      smile.

      “Is anything amiss, Lily?” he asked and she realized that her smile had failed

      to convince him of her mood as she had hoped.

      Lily opened her mouth to speak and wished to God that she could pour out

      her troubles and rest her weary head upon his shoulder. The desire to

      recount her sorry tale was such that it sent a flood of fear and anxiety

      coursing through her. The pressure of which, she felt sure would slowly

      annihilate her with its poisonous taint.

      Realizing that she could no more divulge this secret than dance around the

      hallway in her chemise, Lily forced a smile. “No, uncle. I am quite well. But,

      thank you for asking," she murmured softly, inwardly wincing at the gross lie

      she had just spoken.

      "What is this?" Aunt Millie interrupted. "Is something wrong?"

      "No, my dear. I was just asking after our niece's health, that is all," he

      replied, but his concerned eyes still rested upon Lily.

      "And is Lily well?" Millie asked softly, the query directed at the girl in

      question.

      "Yes, aunt, as I have just informed Uncle George, I am quite well."

      She hummed under her breath and then pursed her lips contemplatively.

      “Now you mention it, George, she does look rather peaky."


      Fighting hard to contain her irritation, Lily smiled placidly. "Please, do not

      worry. If my skin is peaky, it is simply from the ride here, that is all. Come,

      we should make our way into the ballroom."

      Uncle George looked at her deeply for a moment until she felt like a small

      bug under inspection. “Yes, Millie, let's leave the girl alone," he decisively

      stated moments later.

      Shooting a look Lily's way, Millie merely nodded and they walked from the

      entrance hall of the Ipswich's London mansion down a narrow and rather

      cramped corridor which was lined with Roman busts and stone statues of

      long dead Gods and Goddesses. They cleared the moratorium of marble and

      were soon descending the overlarge staircase that led to the center of the

      ballroom and around which the soirée was based.

      From her position halfway down the stairs, she glanced about the crush in

      search of the glinting blond locks of the man she was charged to seduce but

      failed to see him. Of course, she could have been mistaken. The room was

      over full and there were many blond men here, but somehow, Lily knew that

      instinctively she would have been able to find him. Clenching her fingers

      about the fan she held, she felt the small tool begin to dig into her palm and

      relished the pain.

      Confusion assailed her and she longed to simply sit down, rest and be a

      thousand miles away from this bedamned ballroom.

      She bit her lip as she questioned how on earth she, Lady Lily Mercer, who

      was no trained bloodhound, would be able to ascertain if a certain

      gentleman was actually here in this very room.

      It seemed deranged, but Lily knew it to be the truth. She was indeed no

      bloodhound, but she knew that locating Dorian in a crowded room would

      hold no difficulty for her.

      Was that all part and parcel of the coup de foudre? Had her mother had the

      same ability? Had her father?

      Was this heady and powerful emotion that crawled through her veins with a

      fiery intensity whenever she thought of Dorian, love?

      Lily was a rational person. She wasn't given to being silly. And to fall in love

      at first sight seemed both trite and impossible. But then, why else would she

      feel the way she did about a relative stranger?

      She shook her head and only the realization that she was in a public place

     


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