by Robyn Carr
“I’ve seen you.”
“Of course you have,” he said, offering his arm, and she accepted his escort, as she had before. It was all so different now. “We’ll be seeing each other often. Now that there is to be a marriage.”
“He doesn’t want to marry her, does he?”
“No. Nor does she want him. But then there’s a lot of that. And he doesn’t seem too displeased with the prominence of your grandmother’s good name. His father hardly had to threaten him at all.”
“I won’t be able to pretend I don’t know you,” she said. “My grandmother is shrewd, my mother can mask almost all her true feelings, and Patricia…well, we know how capable Patricia is in acting. I have never been able to lie.”
“Don’t lie, Lilly. Go upstairs today and tell them you met me in front of the hotel. I’ve done a little business in this neighborhood, and my presence wouldn’t be amiss. Tell them we talked for a while in the park.”
“If they should ask me if I’ve ever met you before--”
“They won’t ask you, Lilly. You’re clever and daring. It’s all going to be quite a challenge. It was easier for us before, when--”
“Before, when I was poor and our families would never come together under any circumstances? Is that why, Andrew? Is that why you told me how you felt, how wrong it would be for us to want to be together…because you thought you’d never see me again? Maybe that’s why you took liberties, kissed me the way you did? Because it was safe, and if you scared yourself you could run away home-- to your wife and your mansion?”
“Lilly, I take all the blame. I know how wrong that was. I thought I would never see you again, and I couldn’t have you think I purposely seduced you and had no feeling for you. I intended to relieve your mind, not place a burden on you.”
“And if the next time you had seen me had been at my sister’s wedding? Would you have lied? Would you have pretended to feel nothing?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Was it some kind of gift--your declaration of desire?”
“You’re so young. You’ve always wanted the truth. You are desirable. Tempting. It never occurred to me it would do more harm than good.”
“You should never have spoken to me in the first place! Never!”
“I didn’t mean for this--”
“If my grandmother hadn’t come home, if Patricia had not forced Dale Montaine into this farce, this marriage, would you have eventually tried to make me your mistress? Would you--”
He turned her toward him abruptly, his hands gripping her upper arms, his eyes narrowed in anger. “Stop it! Do you think because I am that much older than you I have fewer feelings? So much more restraint? Hell, Lilly, what were you counting on--my lack of devotion to my wife?” He laughed harshly. “You’ll meet Mrs. Devon soon, Lilly. Then you’ll know what kind of fool I really am.”
“Why did you marry her? Because of her money? Because of the factory she brought you?”
He looked away and laughed bitterly, not answering her question. “You’ll find yourself thrust into parties soon, Lilly. Surrounded by the rich and haughty. See if you can find yourself a nice young man among them. There must be one. Someone to give you a family, a home. Forget all this. I can’t ever be alone with you. We both know it.”
“I’ve tried to forget you, you stupid fool. Why did you come now? Why would you stir it all up again?”
“We won’t be able to avoid each other. You’re going to have to change what you feel. You will never see any kind of invitation in my smile, I promise you.”
“Oh…so simple. Is it so simple for you, Andrew? You can make a resolution about what you feel, and it’s done, is it?”
“Yes, Lilly. And until you can change what you feel, you must not let it show. It would ruin us all, but you more than anyone.”
“And what do you expect of me? How am I to--”
“We’ll be courteous. We’ll dance at your sister’s wedding. We will never be anything more than friendly acquaintances. I want you to know it, believe it. I will avoid you if I must, and I will be cruel if it’s necessary. Don’t make it necessary. Live your life. There is nothing between us. There almost never was.”
“You’ve been cruel enough,” she said. “You should have lied to me. Your honesty hasn’t helped anything. Such a gentleman! Andrew…what am I to do?”
“Be stronger than this, Lilly.”
“Oh, you’ll never know how much I wish I’d never met you.”
“Sooner or later we would have felt something…then faced the struggle to overcome it. When we meet next, there is nothing, do you understand? Nothing. Good-bye.”
“Andrew…how many times are we going to say that same good-bye? Do you really believe it changes anything?”
“In time you’ll hate me. The only thing I can give you would be so wrong for you. So cheap and dirty. Do yourself a favor and hate me now…for even thinking it.”
When she turned away from him, the tears came. Hate him for thinking it? When she could think of nothing else? She was glad he couldn’t see her cry. It took a good deal of walking for her to rein in her emotions and feel under control again. When she did return to her hotel, the women were having tea. Lists and notes were temporarily put aside.
“You’ve been gone a long time, Lilly,” Emily observed.
“I met Andrew Devon in front of the hotel. I heard him give his name to the doorman, and I introduced myself. We walked for a while in the square.”
“How odd. Was he coming here?”
Lilly tilted her head to one side, a look of confusion on her face. “Funny, I never did learn his business.”
“Well,” Patricia began, “isn’t he the one who was the orphaned son of a chambermaid or something?”
“Yes,” Amanda said, looking closely at Lilly. “Lilly? Did you like him? Is he polite?”
“Yes, Grandmother. He is polite, and I liked him. Excuse me.”
“What’s the matter with you? You haven’t been very happy about all that’s going on,” Patricia complained. “One would think you’re not the least bit grateful for all this good fortune, not the least bit excited about all the fun things that will be happening.”
“One might think that,” Lilly said, looking over her shoulder at her sister before leaving the room.
Chapter Twelve
The Montaine family had never enjoyed popularity. Wilson Montaine was resented for his prosperity; he had taken advantage of more than one fine old family in trouble. Dale had managed some tenuous acceptance, but there was no possibility that Wilson Montaine was going to experience friendship among elite society. Fear, perhaps. Grudging respect among the most open-minded. Largely there was and would remain disapproval. This was the reason for Amanda’s calculating maneuvers. Dale Montaine was the only one who could betray this plan, and he would not. In his arrogance he did not realize that Dorthea had a secure position within the local aristocracy…as did Amanda. Married to a Lancaster in good standing, he would have the benefit of her friendships. Patricia was a mere visitor. Acceptance in society was important to him, but like Patricia, he didn’t understand the rules. It was his only redeeming quality, Amanda soon decided.
The Sinclairs were the first to welcome Lady Nesbitt and her family home, as though Emily and her daughters had not lived in Philadelphia all these years. Emily was greeted politely and no one asked her about Ned. Patricia and Lilly were introduced, but there was no suggestion of enduring friendship. Patricia didn’t notice, and Lilly didn’t care. Only Amanda and Emily knew how this sort of thing worked. A party was given, a lavish evening affair to include dancing. To this function Dale Montaine escorted Miss Lancaster and danced twice with Patricia Armstrong. It was widely observed.
At the next party, given by the Dresden family, Dale Montaine arrived alone and gave almost all his attention to Patricia. Only the immediate families knew it was contrived affection, but Patricia was not at all discouraged. Her new gown was admired by many.
During the week of Christmas Lady Nesbitt presided over a reception in their large gallery at the Grafton Hotel. Old friends and even some new ones attended her event. It was catered by a staff of twenty waiters and a kitchen staff of nineteen, and a twenty-eight member orchestra played. She was careful to invite judiciously; there were bankers, politicians, and business owners as well as socialites from old families. Amanda’s parties had been missed; she had been as the wife of a well-known and rich baron. Many of the recipes she used had come from Queen Victoria’s kitchens. She even managed exotic flowers that had been shipped in ice from the Caribbean Islands and fruit that came by railcar from Florida. Her hors d’oeuvres trays and wine collections were incomparable.
Nearly two hundred of Philadelphia’s most wealthy, most well-known were in attendance. Dorthea Lancaster was not. Her mother apologized--it seemed she was taken with a winter sniffle. Dale Montaine never left Patricia’s side.
On New Year’s Eve at the home of Wilson Montaine, there was a rare gathering of one hundred guests. Six months earlier Wilson would not have issued invitations to these people, and had he done so, they would have sent their regrets. But Amanda Chase Bellmont Campbell Nesbitt had put her mark on the Montaine family. One hundred lifted glasses of champagne when the engagement was announced.
“I don’t know how you could have resisted this idea,” Patricia told her grandmother and mother. “It’s all going beautifully, and I’ve never had such a wonderful time in my life.”
There were no friends to call on Patricia, and she had not been invited anywhere without her grandmother, but there were many new faces, and a few familiar ones, to smile at her and ask her who had designed her gown. When she noticed women whispering and staring, she assumed they either admired or envied her.
“Well, Patricia, enjoy it while you can. There will be few occasions like this after you’re married.”
“I will, I am. Thank you, Grandmother. I’ve never been more happy in my life.”
Amanda watched Patricia dance and could not help but acknowledge her beauty, her public grace. These people did not know how she could shriek and complain. She did look well suited for this role she played in her pale, virginal pink satin. Hers was such a perfect, frail femininity--all lace, sparkles, flounces, demitrain to swish around behind her. Now that she had snared the one she meant to have, she did not expose so much of her figure, but she still preferred to have her gown cut low. Patricia was as alluring as any princess. There was not a girl in the room who was prettier, Amanda silently relented.
But there was Lilly. The young people did not notice her much because they were distracted by Patricia’s flamboyance. But Lilly was noticed. She stood back from the crowd and had no preference for flouncy dresses, for lace or puffs or bothersome trains. She had refused all the designs that were presented to her and selected a deep, royal-blue velvet gown with a high neck, long fitted sleeves, and a modest gathering of cloth around her bustle. The gown was top- sewn with silver thread in straight lines a quarter inch apart from the neck to the hem; it was sleek, flattering, and seemed almost to give off light. The style did not conform to anything in the room. She pulled her hair back into a clutch of natural waves that fell below her shoulders--no suggestive ringlets for Lilly--and wore a single pair of diamond stud earrings that her grandmother had insisted upon.
Lilly was too confident for frivolous games, for flirtation or vying for popularity. She mocked traditional fashion and defied custom. She danced only with Fletcher Drake, with whom she had developed a comfortable friendship, and one or two other mature gentlemen. She was not giddy, though she had good humor and would smile or laugh when something genuinely funny had been said.
Amanda kept an eye on Lilly. The girl had no idea how she was regarded. Though only seventeen years old, she was mature in both behavior and appearance and could easily pass for a woman in her twenties. Amanda noticed desire in the eyes of men who were intimidated by her powerful, clear, intelligent eyes. Women, suspicious of her refusal to flirt, to dress like the rest of them, to take notice of the grandeur that surrounded her, regarded her through narrowed eyes. She was shockingly, stunningly beautiful. More than pretty, she was magnificent--sensual and formidable. Her almond shaped, blue-green eyes were arousing; her finely arched brows were rarely raised in confusion. She was of potent size, nearly five feet, eight inches, and perfectly, deliciously proportioned. She had natural command--a scepter would not look out of place in her hand. Amanda saw more than one man walk toward her, lose his nerve, and turn away.
Amanda had not felt such pride in years. She wondered if Emily noticed. But Emily was made nervous by all of this; she suffered some embarrassment during this reentry and continued to worry about Patricia. She was evading possible questions about her last twenty years. She could avert her eyes, pretend, fail to answer quite well, but she fretted just the same and longed to have it all behind her. Emily had long since given up any attachment to this haughty group.
Amanda went to Lilly. “What are you thinking, darling?”
“Oh, I was thinking how warm it’s becoming in here. How long after midnight will we stay?”
“Not long. Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Come, Lilly. You needn’t lie to me. You know that.”
“Do you really want to hear the truth, Grandmother? Be sure now.”
Amanda smiled with pleasure. “The truth, darling.”
“I think this is silly. And quite boring.”
“Yes!”
“You needn’t worry about going through all this for me. I wouldn’t have it.”
“But what do you think of my friends?”
Lilly looked around, smirking slightly. “I find it hard to imagine how they entertained you. They lie like wretches and are the least genuine people I’ve met in my life.”
Amanda laughed. “Indeed! But Lilly,” she said, whispering conspiratorially, “there is more money in this room tonight than you can find in Washington, DC.”
“How pleasant for them. But there aren’t as many brains in this room tonight as you’re likely to find in a thimble on any day.”
Amanda loved her. Instantly and ferociously. “You are too brilliant. You will be bored, searching for your match.”
“Why would I search for a man? Hasn’t that been the downfall of my family? This is nonsense. I hope you don’t expect me to become attracted to all of this. I think the idea of having good clothes is very comforting, and I don’t miss mopping up the kitchen, but in all honesty, Grandmother, does this ever become fun?”
Amanda leaned toward her. “Never. But if you have a lot of money, you should be nice to these people.”
“Why?”
“Well, first of all, you should be nice to everyone, no matter how you feel. And secondly, there is also power here. If you must protect, preserve, or earn money, you don’t want enemies among them.”
“I hope I won’t be expected to pretend to love this.”
“You’re doing fine, Lilly. I’m sorry this isn’t particularly appealing to you--but I’m quite relieved it’s not. There will be more substance to your life in that case.”
“I should hope so.”
“Ah, here comes Mr. Devon at last. And, I suspect, his wife. Have you met his wife?”
“No, Grandmother. But I--”
Andrew was upon them before she could say she’d rather not, and she could not have come up with a reason. Naturally she had seen them enter and dance. She had watched Mrs. Devon all evening, trying to conceal her observation. Lilly was terribly disappointed to see that the raven-haired, china-faced woman was beautiful.
Andrew bowed over Amanda’s hand. Mrs. Devon made a slight dip and opened her fan. And then it was Lilly’s turn.
“Miss Lillian Armstrong, may I present Mrs. Devon.”
“Lovely to meet you, dear,” the woman said. “And if it were not for you and your wonderful family, we might not have so many people in this old ho
use again. Lady Nesbitt, it must feel wonderful to be home. Have you missed Philadelphia terribly?”
“Of course, Mrs. Devon. And it’s good to be home. Do I detect a slight accent?”
She laughed musically and fluttered her fan. “Why, you do indeed. I hope it’s not much of an accent anymore. My mother and I came to this wonderful city in sixty-six when I was just a girl. I hail from Atlanta. After that silly business.”
Lilly’s eyes widened. The Civil War, a silly business. Dear God.
“Ah yes,” Amanda acknowledged. “The South.”
“I’m so warm; I do believe I should sit down for a spell. My darling Andrew has danced me to death! Lady Nesbitt, I can’t wait for you to meet my mother. She will be so thrilled to make your acquaintance…we came from one of the finest families, but the war, you know, so devastated Mother. She longs for delicate society again…and your homecoming is surely a sign that--”
“Why don’t we find a chair and visit, Mrs. Devon. If you don’t have people to see, that is. Perhaps Andrew could ask Lilly to dance. Andrew?”
“I would be honored,” he said smoothly.
Lilly barely heard. She couldn’t take her eyes from Mrs. Devon. She stared. Her grandmother and Andrew’s wife had turned their backs before Lilly could pull her eyes away.
“Lilly, would you like to dance?”
“Ah,” she said, her attention back. “Ah, no, thank you, I’d rather not.”
“I can’t stand here chatting. Nor can I take you to a corner to talk. I’ll have to say--”
“I’ve heard enough of that. Good-bye, isn’t it? Becoming almost a habit for you, Andrew. For the sake of appearances. Very well, let’s dance then. Otherwise I’ll have to find someone to talk to or appear conspicuously alone, and I don’t feel like either.”
