that her brother was residing at their estate simply to watch over her in her
state of mourning?
If William could compromise Lily in some way and then use that as leverage
to enlist her into assisting him, then he was sure she would agree simply to
protect her mother. He would have no brother to avoid and no duenna, apart
from the bacon-brained aunt, who could easily be maneuvered around . . . .
Smiling into the fire place, he held out his hands and felt the licking warmth
against his palms. It was a cold night, but the crush in the ball had warmed
him nicely and now the fire did the same. Jerking his chin at a footman to
his left, he asked for a brandy. Moments later, with a balloon neatly in his
hand, William attempted to calculate the fine details of his plan.
With any other woman, it would have been much simpler. But even though
she did not look like a blue-stocking, the woman was very intelligent. He
would have to do something to compromise her so totally, that she would
feel as though she had no choice but to go through with his plan.
Tapping his blunt nails against the crystal glass, he smiled grimly at his
thoughts. Spying Lord Simean's ascent from one of the fireside armchairs,
William took a seat and spent the following hours detailing his plan to the
most minute degree.
Dorian was coming up to London soon, so whatever he planned, would have
to be in place before then. He fully intended to inherit his cousin's Earldom
and the wealth that went with it and if pushing Dorian off this mortal coil
decades earlier than the good Lord had intended, then William was more
than happy to stack the cards against Dorian and in his own favor.
Chapter Two
With a faintly bored sigh, Lily took in the glamorous sight of the bustling
theater before her and frankly, wasn't impressed. But then, the myriad
activities she had been forced to attend these weeks past had made her
view London with a cynic's eye. Not that she had needed to be persuaded
into disliking it! She had never hidden her innate disapproval of the capital
and its black heart but a part of her had hoped to have her opinion changed-
it was something she did not believe would happen. It had yet to occur, at
any rate!
On the whole, she found it to be a most unpleasant place. And quite frankly,
that was an understatement. There were parts of London society that
disgusted and were abhorrent to her nature. Therefore, unpleasant wasn't
the word.
Naturally, there were some amusements.
Lily would not be so biased as to fail to admit to that. And there were indeed
diversions that she herself enjoyed. From the lending library to the great
variety of shops that London's streets contained.
But, generally, she found it to be overcrowded with humanity and
shockingly, scandalously outré. Women thrived, as they always did, on
gossip. But with the most malicious of news, came a heightened satisfaction.
The tabbies seemed to long for a deb to fall from her virginal pedestal by
one of the many rake hells that scourged the balls for their next meal or
longed for a husband to discover his wife's affaire du coeur so that they
might watch the repercussions of such a discovery and revel in the
destruction of another's marriage.
The majority of people seemed to be almost scavenger-like in their behavior.
From the ladies to the gentlemen and to one, as gently reared as Lily had
been, it came as a distressing surprise to come to terms with this completely
new world. Which was as shocking to her sensibilities as coming across the
Americas had been to Columbus, she felt sure!
One where, judge not lest ye be judged, did not seem to be universally
understood.
Where people relished and craved the hurt of others. Where charity did not
exist outside of a lady's desire to dispel boredom or to create the right image
and to fit in with her peers . . . .
She did not like to say that London was evil. For where evil could be found,
good also existed, but it saddened Lily that she had yet to discover any of
this innate goodness.
she was befriended by some of the nastiest matrons of the ton. But Lily
knew that there was no maliciousness in Aunt Millie. Just a general and
hungry appetite to know all of the ton's goings on and Lily could view that
with amusement, for her aunt had a rapacious interest for everything that
was innocuous.
It was simply a shame that Millie's friends were not so innocent.
Only the other day, she had heard Mrs. Jerome declaring the good Lady
Merken an out and out hussy for she had taken a lover - something that Lily
could well understand for Mr. Jerome was four scores had he seen a day and
his dear lady wife was a true beauty! But a day later, her Aunt Millie had
inadvertently declared to Uncle George in hushed tones that Mrs. Jerome
also had a cicisbeo!
Such unbridled hypocrisy was something that Lily could not stand and it
seemed to be everywhere. No matter the destination, there was something
that was shocking to the sensibilities, something that seemed so elementally
wrong to her, but was universally accepted by the rest of the ton.
And to be frank, Lily was growing quite bored of being shocked, of finding
distaste in almost everything.
She had started to long for home and for the countryside, which while it
could be a tad tedious, especially as one had to socialize with the same set
over and over again, there was wholesomeness to the people. An innocence
for they had not been tainted by the black tar that came from living amongst
the ton.
The true beauty of living in the countryside was the copious amount of
fresher than fresh air that was in wonderful abundance no matter the area.
In truth, it was one of the things she missed the most. Lily had taken to
waking early in the morning to simply enjoy the freshness and coolness of
the dawn and then returning to bed to sleep off the night's excesses.
Day and night, the temperature seemed to be hellishly warm, regardless of
the time or the climate. The polluted air seemed to create an unnatural heat
that never seemed to dissipate. Lily could only liken it to the temperature in
her father's greenhouse. Only at dawn, did there seem to be any relief.
It was with regret and fondness that Lily thought of the rolling hills of her
family's estate, Grantlake. They offered a variety of long walks and rambles
that while staid in comparison to the supposed delights London had to offer,
were far more delightful than anything she had yet to experience here.
Aunt Millie, as usual, was entirely blind to Lily's dislike of all things ton and
had simply taken it as read that Lily was simply shy and not as bored as
death. Because of that, she had been dragged from what felt like pillar to
post and in all honesty, she was growing quite tired of it.
Only the fact that Aunt Millie meant well, prevented her from snapping and
arguing that she would prefer to eat burnt toast until her hair started to curl
and sup on
laudanum until she was dragged to Bedlam than partake in the
ton's various amusements!
Melodramatic perhaps, but it was how she felt!
Tonight, they were attending the theater. The smells were, quite frankly,
horrific. The Great Unwashed as the peasants of this great country were so
mockingly termed, shared the characteristic with many of Lily's own
contemporaries! But in their case, it was truly unnecessary! These folk were
wealthy and could afford to have an elaborate toilette!
Lily found the lack of which truly disgusting and the scents of so many
unwashed bodies in the heat of the night, the cloistered halls of the theater
seeming to magnify it by ten, had her almost wincing whenever she inhaled.
She had taken to dipping a handkerchief in lavender or rose water before
attending a function such as these, where the ripe scent of sweating and
unclean humanity was truly abhorrent to the nose and to the sensibilities.
In the country, where people were supposedly less au fait than their tonnish
counterparts, the majority of folk in Lily's acquaintance bathed regularly and
her own family were accustomed to cleaning themselves at least once or
even twice a day.
It seemed that they were the unusual ones, if the horrid scent that rose to
the balcony in which she and Aunt Millie and Uncle George were seated, was
anything by which to make her conclusion!
Huffing a slight breath, she dabbed her handkerchief along her upper lip and
sighed with relief as the delicious bouquet of lavender overpowered her
senses.
Her aunt was almost hanging over the balcony as she spoke to their
neighbors and there were faint calls from below as people in her aunt's
acquaintance made their presence known to her. Uncle George, a placid
fellow and rather an amusing and dry-witted one at that, sat back against
his seat with a look of enjoyment on his bullish face.
The differences between her aunt and uncle were great, but it was evident
that both enjoyed that about each other. Uncle George reveled in watching
his wife being diverted by the latest on-dit and Aunt Millie relished dragging
her husband out of his study and into the world at large.
Lily knew that were she to make a marriage such as theirs, she would
indeed be blessed. For love was at its base and what more could one ask for,
but that?
Sighing, she took in the sights that were to be had which included the
surprisingly small stage which had open flames at its edge and was
surrounded by a four floored mass of humanity that had Lily sighing with
discomfort. She had never been anywhere like this before and it would
indeed be her first outing to the theater, but having so many people around
her felt almost entombing and she would be very grateful when Don
Giovanni started and she could at least lose herself in the opera.
Even her dislike of being amongst such a large crowd could not diminish the
beauty she saw within its hallowed walls. The ceiling was so high that it
seemed an almost impossible task to have actually constructed it! It was
painted with a frieze that depicted galloping horses rolling across billowing
cushions of clouds and a rider at the helm of the gilt and golden chariot.
The molded plaster that was in gloriously weaving shapes and ended with a
crest of the Royal family at the hull of the ceiling was a delight to behold.
The creamy yellowed and age patina'd walls were complimented by the
ruddy reds of the stage's curtains.
Uncle George was a rich man and so, their box was on the third floor and
relatively close to the stage. It ensured a fabulous view of the actors as they
plied their trade and despite herself, and the continued apathetic gloom that
had so settled over her, Lily began to feel some excitement that was shared
by the rest of the crowd.
Her opera glasses rested on her knee and she raised them to take in her
peers. Attendance was at a premium tonight and Lily could see a great many
of the guests from her come out and a variety of others she had met during
her jaunts about the ton to which her aunt dragged her.
Spying some of the low-cut dresses and the indecently bare flesh that was
easily visible, Lily felt relieved that she had managed to win the day and had
had her modiste remake her dresses to her exact specifications.
She wore the a la mode empire line dress in a lilac shade that did marvelous
things to her pearly skin, which was enhanced by a deeper shade of purple
in an overlarge masculine cut waistcoat that was gathered at the bust and
trailed pleasantly along the length of her straight skirt. Silver thread was
sewn into the hems and added a glint of light to the otherwise somber
colors. She felt comfortable and attractive, Lily hadn't however thrown away
all of her morals to fit in with the rest of her set!
Replacing the opera glasses, she watched faintly amused as her aunt
excused herself to Uncle George before grabbing him by the forearm and
dragging him with her so that she could speak to a friend of theirs.
“We must go, George! That ball will be the toast of the Season! Lily cannot
miss it!” were her words and they could be heard as Lily's uncle was dragged
to whichever box required!
It was unorthodox to be left alone and in so public a place, but Lily was
hardly a green girl and did have some wiles about her. In fact, it was rather
pleasant to be free from her aunt, who seemed to exude so much energy
that at times it could be faintly exhausting!
Breathing out slowly, Lily tried not to wish that she was with her mama and
papa, for it was grossly unfair to her aunt and uncle who were truly trying
their best for her to make the match of the year. And in all honesty, Lily
could understand Aunt Millie's annoyance with her.
Without any narcissistic beliefs, Lily knew that an unorthodox beauty she
may be, but she was the diamond of this Season's first water and as such,
could make any match she so wished. But in truth, Lily had no desire to play
any part in this Season and had only agreed to take part on her mother's
behest that she needed to make a life of her own and not wither away at
Grantlake for all eternity.
Knowing that she wanted to experience the same depth of love as her
parents and her aunt and uncle had been the prod she had needed to
ultimately agree but as she was faced with the rigorous activities one had to
undertake to even become affianced, Lily found herself feeling fatigued
before the commencement of any and all occasions!
“Do not make even a murmur, Lady Lily.”
Startled as the hissing voice slithered sinuously into her thoughts, she spun
around in her seat and stared into the darkened area at the very rear of the
box. It was swathed with curtains and therefore visibility was extremely
poor.
A faint shudder roiled through her as fear suddenly began to grow in the pit
of her belly. She felt slightly ridiculous for feeling scared, for it could well
have been a practical joke, but nevertheless wished to goodness that her
family had not decided an invitation to the ball of the year was more
&nbs
p; important than their niece's protection. Lily licked her lips and nodded
jerkily.
“Good. Answer when required and not a word more!”
Wanting quite desperately to ask if this was someone's idea of a jest, she
managed to close her mouth and await the next words. As she did, her eyes
seemed to spin around the box and the room, hoping to God that someone
would come and save her from whatever the voice wanted.
It could be naught good, that she did know and felt faintly apprehensive as
the man, for it was a man, continued.
“Are you attending Lady Rutherford's ball the following eve?”
“Yes,” she murmured softly.
“Good. I shall contact you there and discuss with you in more depth what I
require of you. Mention one word of this meeting and you shall regret it. I'm
a mean bastard when crossed.”
Lily's body tensed with fright and even though the faint whispering sounds of
cloth informed her of his departure, she felt frozen as though he could still
strike her. When her lungs began to function normally and her stomach did
not feel as though she was about to cast out her breakfast, Lily turned
around but saw nothing. A faint scent lingered in the air, strong enough to
overshadow the lavender oil about her nose, but she did not recognize it.
Why did he want to know if she would be attending Lady Rutherford's ball?
Oh why had she admitted that she would be there?!
Damning herself and wondering what on earth was happening, Lily felt her
earlier nausea begin to wash through her. She had never felt so frightened
in her entire life. A threat had not been made to her, merely an admission of
their mutual attendance at a ball, but the manner in which he had couched
his question was suspicious and his reasons for her requiring her presence
were hardly pure!
What on earth could anyone want with her? She was a debutante, and while
not exactly a green girl, as good as one! She could be of no help with
political intrigue or the like, so why on Earth had he attempted to
communicate with her thus?
Licking her dry lips, Lily felt an unbearable weakness wash through her and
wished to goodness that her maid was here and not at home with her
smelling salts. For the first time in her robust life, Lily felt close to swooning.