Something Old

by Rebecca Connolly

  Some couples enjoyed such interactions. Usually couples who were in love and happily married, but she’d heard stranger things in the gossiping corners of London.

  Lily’s cheeks colored as she entered Rainford Park just before a light rain began to fall. It would not do for her to dwell on such a topic when her husband would be asking her about the tenants in a few short hours. It would certainly reappear in her mind when he did so, which would make her flush, which could concern him, and the poor local physician would be sent for. All for a case of mortification.

  “Good day, madam,” greeted Phillips, their expressionless butler. “I trust your outings were satisfactory?”

  “Yes, Phillips, thank you.” Lily smiled to herself at the irony of her butler taking a greater interest in her day and activities than her husband. “Do you know if Mr. Granger has given instruction for dinner?”

  “He did not, madam,” reported the butler. “Mr. Granger went out shortly after you did yourself, I believe. Mrs. Gilbert has been conferring with Cook as to the menu, but I daresay either of them would be pleased to have your input.”

  Lily waved a hand dismissively, her smile turning more genuine. “I have no qualms at all with their decisions, whatever they may be. If they wish for my input, I’ll give it by all means, but I’ll not dictate the details needlessly.” She stripped off her gloves and removed her bonnet, handing it to the nearest maid. “I think I’ll retire to the music room for a time. If anyone should need me, I’ll be available there.”

  “Very good, madam.”

  Patting the back of her hair in an absent gesture, Lily moved out of the foyer deeper into the house, turning toward the western wing where the music room was situated. It might have seemed a peculiar location for a music room, given the grand windows and door to the terrace there, but it was a room clearly designed for entertaining and musical performances. Rainford Park had never hosted any such thing while she had been in residence, but perhaps someday it would.

  And there was a remarkable beauty and peace in playing the pianoforte with such a view of nature before her.

  She sat at her beloved instrument, sighing with relief for the familiarity of doing so, then started to play. Gently at first, a simple lullaby she had memorized as a child that always seemed to remind her fingers of the way of things, to wake them up, and to prepare them for the practice ahead. It also brought Lily’s heart back to the joy of her music and the comfort she had found in it even before her marriage. It had saved her during her parents’ dismissal of her and her sisters, through the nerves of her Seasons in London, through her budding feelings for a certain gentleman…

  Music had been the only constant in her life.

  Well, besides her sisters.

  Even then, the only real constant was Rosalind. Emma and Eloise had finally been given permission to go out into Society and had taken up residence with Aunt Augusta, just as Lily and Rosalind had done in their turn, and so they couldn’t be particularly bothered to care about anything else. They’d always been a bit more like their snobbish parents than Lily or Rosalind would have liked, but there was no changing the examples one looked upon in their life.

  Aunt Augusta had even invited Lily to come to London this Season and witness her sisters as they triumphed, but the invite held no interest. Thomas did not enjoy London in particular, apart from business, and Lily dreaded moving in Society, trying when there was so little to enjoy. Her friends would be there, she had no doubt, but Marianne Gerrard had a passel of children at her heels, and Gemma, Lady Blackmoor, was soon to follow suit, having just delivered her second.

  There were no friends remaining that did not have children, and the reminder that Lily did not was isolating. Not that anyone would have truly cut her out, but when the conversations tended to veer toward the topics of children and parenting, Lily had very little to offer but sympathy. When she wanted so desperately to contribute to the conversation, to understand the situation herself, being set apart from it was torment.

  Even Mary Hamilton had born a set of twins not long ago after years of being thought barren. Lily didn’t know if she would be barren. She didn’t know if she was especially fertile, either. She wanted to know. Wanted a child. Wanted several, if Thomas would agree to it, and the longer they waited, the more the chances of it never happening increased.

  Would children improve her feelings about her life? She could lose herself in the care and raising of them, find fulfillment in their rearing and education, and know in her heart that there were at least a few people in her home who loved her unconditionally. She could shower them with affection without shame, share all the love in her heart with them, and see that they knew they were loved beyond measure.

  Surely there would be joy in that.

  Would Thomas be an absent father, as he had been an absent husband? He had been raised by attentive, polite parents and had a good rapport with his two siblings. She wouldn’t have thought he’d be aloof in parenting children, but it could very well depend on Lily’s presence and influence.

  Somehow, she had displeased him. She wasn’t sure when or how, or what had been the cause, but it was the only feasible explanation to his sudden change upon their marriage. She had once felt overwhelming insecurity about such a thing, could have crumbled on a breeze with the onslaught of her own recriminations, but now she had grown accustomed to feeling nothing on the subject. No joy, no anger, no nerves, no shame. She had corrected anything that could have been a flaw, offered herself as perfectly amenable and adaptable to his wishes, all to no avail.

  There was nothing she could say or do to change her husband’s inclination toward her, so there was quite simply no use in attempting to. If he wished to change their situation, he must do so. Lily had done enough.

  And yet…

  Something about him kept her here, fixed to the place he was. She could easily have lived in London while he was at Rainford and remain at Rainford while he was in London. She could have gone to stay with Aunt Augusta and the girls without anyone thinking she was intentionally keeping apart from her husband, and likely without her husband noticing as well. But she had never had the desire to do so. Never considered being without him. Never thought of taking the step that seemed so clear, given the life they had been living.

  Because it wasn’t that clear.

  Perhaps, then, she did have hope after all.

  But how could that be? Was she still so foolish, so naive, so filled with romantic sentimentality that she still had not completely abandoned the girlish dreams she’d once had? With all the pain and despondency she had known, did she still long for the love of the man who had asked for her hand?

  She wouldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe it.

  Didn’t believe it.

  “That sounds like something new.”

  Lily’s fingers froze on the keys of the instrument, her heart suddenly beating in the base of her throat, of all places, at a frenzied pace that threatened to choke her.

  Perhaps she should believe it, then.

  Slowly, she turned on the bench to see her husband standing in the doorway to the music room, leaning against the frame as though he had never been more comfortable, his face lit with a small but clear smile.

  Had she not known it was her husband, she would never have recognized him as such. Yet there he was, with the same features he had always worn and a smile she hadn’t seen in an age, looking handsome beyond expression.

  It had never been disconcerting to see her husband even before he was her husband, but this…

  “I got lost,” Lily admitted when no other words would come.

  Thomas’s brow creased faintly, though his smile remained. “Lost? Where? When?”

  The note of concern in his voice made her chest give, and, mingled with confusion as it was, made her smile. “In the song,” she explained, gesturing faintly to the piano. “I was thinking too intently, and I haven’t the faintest idea what I was playing.”

  Impossibly,
Thomas chuckled a very soft laugh. “Would that all of us could still be so talented when lost in our thoughts.”

  Heat rushed into Lily’s cheeks, and she lowered her eyes to her hands. “Thank you.” Her heart pounded twice more, with gusto, and she glanced back up. “Do you… hear me play often? Only you said it sounded new, so I wondered…”

  “Oh yes,” Thomas replied, nodding easily. “The sound carries quite marvelously from here to my study. If I ever feel confused about what day it is, I need only think back to the repertoire from your playing, and I am set back to rights.”

  Lily tilted her head, now confused herself. “How would that help?”

  His smile grew, seizing her chest and stomach in a tight fist. “You have a pattern. Always the same, and it rarely gets added upon or adjusted.”

  “I don’t play daily,” she felt the need to point out even as her head began to ache with revelations.

  “I know. But when you do, the days are in pattern.” He shrugged his shoulders, the fabric of his jacket brushing audibly against the wood. “I cannot help but notice.”

  Notice.

  How many times had she wished he would notice something, anything, about her? And now he was saying that he noticed the particular pattern of her playing? In hearing her music, he could find regularity in his days and notice any variations?

  “Then I must have given you great confusion today,” she murmured with a note of apology that surprised her. “I don’t believe I played anything familiar just now.”

  “Only the first song,” he corrected, his smile shrinking into a very slight one that was no less encouraging. “Always the same.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment, the air between them somehow suspended with unspoken tension. Not tension she feared, however, but something new. Something not quite exciting but still made her curious.

  She wanted to ask what he wanted, what was making him smile, what had brought him in here, why he was suddenly affable after so long, but she was afraid to ask anything of depth for fear of his retreating back into the man she had known. Part of her wanted to run to him and throw her arms around him for the pure joy of seeing warmth in him, but she was held in check by the wiser, more experienced and cautious part of her who knew all too well what would happen if her sudden resurgence of hope ventured too far.

  She couldn’t lose herself to it again. Not if she wished to remain intact.

  The silence continued, not with awkwardness, but with expectation. With a strange hesitation that reminded her of days past, when they had both been shy despite their years of knowing each other.

  What could that mean?

  “Granger,” Lily ventured softly, unable to bring herself to call him Thomas aloud.

  “Would you come to London with me?” he asked at the same time.

  Lily blinked once, then again as her mind spun to catch up with the skipping of her heart. “London?” she repeated. “I thought we had decided against it this Season.”

  He shifted his position against the doorframe. “Would you rather stay?”

  The rushed nature of his voice, almost eager in his question, gave Lily pause. “Not necessarily,” she told him. “Do you have business in London?”

  Thomas shook his head, the smile on his lips twitching. “No. I simply fancied going there. With you, if you agree.”

  There was something impossibly sweet about that, and she was so unused to sweetness at his hand.

  She might never see it again.

  “I’d love to,” she said with a nod, letting herself smile in a way she had not done for him in some time. Years, in fact.

  The smile he returned cracked the walls she had built up so carefully. “Good. Excellent. Shall we leave the day after tomorrow?”

  Lily nodded again, wanting to laugh at how Thomas nearly bounced on his feet with his suggestion. “Whenever you think is best. I’ve no commitments here. Tell me when the carriage is ready, and I’ll alight.”

  “What if I said five minutes?” he shot back.

  She reared back, the banter so delightfully unexpected and inviting, and coughed in surprise. “Then I’d be going to London without my trunks, but I daresay I would manage.”

  “I daresay you would.” He grinned, a small laugh escaping. “You wouldn’t need anything to be perfectly suited for London.” As though he suddenly realized what he was doing, he straightened fully, though his smile did not fade. “We can discuss the details at dinner. I trust you’ll be dining here?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Thomas nodded firmly. “Excellent. Then I’ll leave you to your playing and see you then.” He bowed a little, then turned from the room as quickly as he had appeared.

  Lily blinked hard at the now empty doorway, wondering if she were asleep, ill, or just imagining things. Whichever it was, she had just agreed to go to London with this new version of her husband, and there was no telling what would come from that.

  Chapter Three

  Take her to London, Monty had told him. There are courtships aplenty in London.

  What a brilliant idea it had seemed at the time, but now, as he waited for the carriage to be brought around and loaded, Thomas wished he had asked for a few more specifics than simply London. He’d married Lily in London, and he’d ruined their marriage in London, and he’d found it easier to avoid Lily and his marriage in London.

  Why in the world would it be any sort of place to mend anything between them?

  Still, they were going, and he would have to make the best of the situation. After all, London had balls and theatre, both of which Lily adored, and he could take her for walks in Hyde Park or ride in a phaeton. They could go to musical evenings hosted by their friends and associates, where Lily would shine brighter than the stars, and he could praise her in the ways he’d never dared to before. He could send her flowers despite living in the same house and see her blush over dinner when they were delivered. They could come together in the evenings in the drawing room for conversation and laughter, or simply just to be together.

  He could make up for all the time he had lost, if all went well.

  And if it didn’t…

  Well, Monty had promised to bring Beth to London in a week or so, which should prove quite a comfort after some very long days of awkward pauses and uncertain looks between himself and Lily.

  What exactly he or his wife could do to help Thomas in any way was less clear, but he was certain their presence alone would lighten his load.

  He’d never courted anyone in his life, and now he needed to court the woman he’d married. It was worse than courting a young woman in the hopes of marrying her, for the result of this courtship would not change anything about their married state. There would be no additional security or more ardent vows, and they would still be seen as the same people in the eyes of the world. All that would change, could change, would be the feeling behind those vows, and the manner in which they lived as husband and wife.

  Now they only lived by the fact that they were husband and wife.

  Any woman in the world could have filled that position for him.

  But he had Lily. And he needed that to mean something.

  It did mean something, however little it might seem to her. There had been a reason why, out of all the wealthy young women in the world, he had chosen her. He could have chosen Rosalind, if the identity mattered so little, and still have maintained the family connection that was so admirable. He could have randomly chosen any young lady of means in Society and salvaged his fortunes eventually.

  But he had chosen Lily. The only option that truly meant something, and he had married her for her money.

  It was both the best and the worst he could have done.

  He was grasping for joy in the midst of his desperation despite almost completely ensuring it would never be the marriage he had imagined for them.

  Until now.

  Which was why they were going to London.

>   Oh, dashed days, he hated London.

  But the memories of their pained silences at Rainford were too much to hope for a reconciliation, and there was very little by way of courtship opportunities in the neighborhood.

  So, he would endure London, and hope for the best.

  Or at least, for something better than the worst.

  Was that too much to ask?

  “Beth told me they plan on joining us in London,” Lily announced as she came to his side, surprising him. “I wasn’t aware they knew we were going.”

  Thomas nodded, clasping his hands behind his back while his attention remained fixed on the place where his carriage should shortly appear. “I was speaking with Monty when the thought occurred to me. He thought it would be a fine thing for them as well, though they cannot leave with quite the same haste or on such a whim.”

  “No, I can imagine not,” Lily mused without emotion. “Do you know if they will bring the children?”

  “Why would they?” he asked without thinking, frowning at the thought. “London isn’t the place for them. They belong at Knightsgate.”

  He knew the moment he fell silent he had said the wrong thing, though it was undoubtedly true. London was meant for the Marriage Mart and the Season, not children, and there was no possibility of Monty being of any use to Thomas if his six children were in tow. He’d offered to come in the same breath he’d offered the place as a location for Thomas to begin.

  Why else would Monty come to London but to assist him?

  “Do you believe that children should only be present when sent for and only speak when spoken to?” Lily asked coldly, her words clipped. “A necessary inconvenience to the interests of their parents and nothing more?”

  Thomas barely avoided a wince. “I have little experience with children. Even Monty’s. They are always elsewhere in the house when I call.”