by S Cinders
Especially this gentleman.
She tried to smile but was certain it came off as more of a grimace, “I am awaiting my sister, I trust you are having a nice evening?”
“The night is looking up,” his eyes gleamed., “Might I have a dance?”
Lilly’s first instinct was to refuse, she hated to dance, and in truth was a poor dancer.
Mr. Stanford could sense her hesitation but awaited her reply.
Lilly tumbled over the first few words, “I would, that is to say, thank you sir, that would be delightful, here is my dance card.”
Mr. Stanford blinked, obviously pleased “Very well!”
He took the card and noted all of the empty spaces, “I do not understand.”
She flushed, “You must understand, I,” her color increased, “I am not a very good dancer.”
He frowned, “That shouldn’t matter.”
Lilly looked up at him in confusion, “But we are at a ball, of course dancing matters?”
His eyes shown as shook his head kindly, “Any man worth his salt would gladly endure a few bruised toes for any chance to hold you in his arms.”
Lilly’s head shot up and she caught his gaze. There was a moment when they were locked together. Her stomach doing some kind of flip flop that she didn’t understand.
He was looking so intently at her, almost as if, it was almost as if he was going to—kiss her?
“I am sorry Lilly! I was speaking with, oh...” Jules broke off with a sigh, “Excuse me.”
Lilly whirled around, “Jules, goodness, yes, of course. Mr. Stanford, my sister, yes, um. I was waiting on my sister.”
His smile widened. “It is lovely to see you Lady Juliana. I was just keeping Lady Lillian company until you returned.”
He handed Lilly back her dance card with not one, but two dances taken.
“Might I also have a dance with you, Lady Juliana?” Ryan Stanford knew a thing or two about moving about in London society and if he were to dance with one sister and not the other there would be talk.
He couldn’t give gave a damn, but he would not have her harmed for the world.
Jules giggled, “I would be delighted!”
Lilly clutched her dance card. She knew that her sister was a much better dancer than she was, and a small part of her felt a wave of jealousy.
Would Mr. Stanford find Juliana more attractive than she was because she was the far better dancer? Did that matter to her?
Why did he call her Lady Lillian in front of her sister and not the affectionate Darlin’ or Lillian as he had at the wedding? He was a puzzle, that was for certain.
Lilly knew that he was one the Duke’s brother’s but was not certain which one. Her next mission was to find out his name.
Someone that handsome deserved to be fawned over appropriately—not that she would do the fawning mind you.
And then Lilly surprised herself and laughed aloud at her thoughts.
Both Jules and Mr. Stanford turned to her in surprise.
“Lilly, whatever is so amusing?” Jules asked.
Lilly flushed madly, “Nothing, just my thoughts.
Mr. Stanford bowed over both lady’s hands and excused himself.
But not before vowing in his mind that he would find out whatever Lillian had been thinking to put such a lovely smile on her face. For a brief moment, she had been so incandescently beautiful she had almost blinded him. He had to know how to put that look on her face again. And determined to do so.
“Goodness, Lilly,” Jules asked as soon as Mr. Stanford had left, and they had returned to the ballroom. “Whatever were you doing talking to a gentleman by yourself? That is so very dangerous you know?”
“It wasn’t as if I had a choice.” Lilly snapped, “You left me alone in the hallway.”
Jules looked hurt, “I didn’t mean to, Lilly. I was only going to be gone a second.”
Lilli took a breath, “I didn’t mean to scold, it was just Mr. Stanford had come upon me and I didn’t know what to do.”
Jules nodded, “That would be difficult. I should not have left you there. I am sorry.”
“I am sorry, too!” Lilly grabbed her sister’s hands before they reached her mother. “Jules, what is Mr. Stanford’s name?”
Jules looked at her dumbly, “Mr. Stanford?”
Lilly rolled her eyes, “Given name, Jules!”
Jules laughed, “Sorry, just teasing a bit. It is Ryan, he is the Duke’s twin. The Duke’s name is Oliver.”
“Ryan,” Lilly rolled it around her tongue, “It is very American sounding, isn’t it? I like it.”
Jules looked at her funny, “Do you have a tendre for Mr. Stanford?”
Lilly flushed, “Of course not!”
Jules had a wide smile spreading across her face, “Bloody Hell!”
“Juliana, Lillian, where have you been?”
Both girls groaned at the sound of the dowager’s tone.
CHAPTER 8
“I do apologize, Katheryn,” Lady Gen swept out from behind Lilly and Jules with a flourish that would have made any actress on Drury Lane proud. “I was feeling a trifle faint and required the girls for a moment of respite. I do hope that I did not keep them for too long.”
The Dowager blinked, “Of course not, Lady Genevieve, they are at your disposal for whatever you need. Are you feeling better?”
Lady Gen had to be pushing eighty if she was a day and yet the woman’s eyes twinkled like a girl of eighteen.
“I am much improved,” Lady Gen moved to take the chair next to the Dowager. “Run along girls. I want to have a nice long chat with your mother. I am sure you have much better things to do. Now Katheryn, tell me, did you bring that handsome young butler of yours to town? He is quite delicious.”
The dowager blushed, and Lilly and Jules made their escape. They hadn’t gone more than a few paces before Juliana erupted into giggles.
“I cannot believe that Lady Gen called out Mother and Joseph! Oh goodness, Lilly, this might be the most exciting night of my life.”
Lilly allowed a small smile. Lady Genevieve’s distraction had been nothing short of perfection. Indeed, the woman should give lessons in covert operations.
“Lady Lillian,” Lilly whirled around to see another of the Duke’s brothers towering over her. “Might I have a dance?”
Lilly looked up at him, wishing that she could remember the poor man’s name. “Certainly, Milord.” She fumbled with her dance card, but eventually pulled it free.
He shook his head, “We can just join the next set if you are free?”
Lilly pretended to look at her card. Since only two dances were taken, and both of those were by his brother, there was nothing else she could do but smile and take his arm.
They lined up for a Quadrille which thankfully is a rapid dance with many steps leaving little time to speak with one’s partner. Unfortunately, what it did leave time for was one’s partner to chassé, jeté assemblé, and entrechats all over her partner's toes.
If James Stanford wasn’t enamored of Lillian Moberly before this dance, he certainly was now. When his elder brother had approached him and his other brothers insisting that they dance with the chit, James had wondered if Ryan might be a trifle disguised.
It wasn’t like his older brother to imbibe, but he usually wasn’t in the petticoat line either.
Always ready for a lark, James went to see what pretty young Lady Lillian Moberly was all about. She was absolutely nothing like he had expected.
Not in any way could Lillian be considered a diamond of the ton. Lady Lillian had lovely light brown hair and was of medium height. Her curves were perfectly acceptable, and at first glance, one might say that she had a very pleasing face. Pleasing, but eminently forgettable, some might say—however, some people were idiots.
It is the second glance that captures the attention. Lillian's eyes, while neither blue nor gray or green, have golden flecks in them that flash when she is nervous. It is captivating.
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Her cheekbones arched up like butterfly wings. They stand out against her pale cheeks. They certainly show off her noble birthright. Her bone structure is so delicate one would think she would almost look sickly. But it is quite the opposite, she has an air of authority about her, demanding that one take notice.
Her grip was firm against his gloved hand. Her eyes raised confidently to his own. And all the while, she was most definitely the worst dancer that he had ever danced with. Every time she missed a step, she would apologize, but she didn’t lower her eyes—not once.
Her cheeks were awash with color. Indeed, she looked positively radiant by the time the dance was finished. James was confident that if he traveled the globe over, he would never find another girl quite like her.
No wonder Ryan was making a cake of himself! She was delightful.
“Might I have another dance?” James blurted out as he escorted her back to her sister.
Lillian looked horrified, “Oh, must we?”
James’ eyes widened, and he barked out a loud bit of laughter, “You are quite unlike any girl that I have met here in London. I like your honesty.”
Lilly looked miserable, “I would love to.”
James’ eyes twinkled, “Oh no, we were doing so well! Don’t go giving me Banbury stories now.”
Lilly made a face, “I promised myself that if a gentleman asked me to dance that I would accept.”
James looked intrigued, “Tell me, Lady Lillian, do you like dancing?”
Lilly wrinkled her nose, “Not particularly. It seems to be an enormous waste of time. And there are a lot of people crammed into a minimal amount of space. I don’t like the idea of someone else’s, erm, bits and pieces coming anywhere near any of mine.”
James grinned wider, “So, what about the waltz?”
Lilly looked at him in question, “I have never danced the waltz with anyone aside from my dancing instructor.” And then it dawned on her, just who had signed her dance card for two dances. “Oh dear,” her breathy pause caused another peal of laughter from the gentleman beside her.
Another voice disturbed their conversation, “James, are you monopolizing all of this young lady’s time?”
Another one of the brothers had come over to join the fray.
Jules looked jealous, and James, always a gentleman, immediately turned to her. “I had the pleasure of dancing with Lady Lillian, but I would love a dance with you, Lady Juliana.”
Juliana smiled, “Thank you, I accept.”
Lillian looked up with resignation, “How do you do?”
Ian looked down at the young lady who was eying him with some trepidation. He tried to send her a reassuring smile, and she shrank back away from him.
Ryan was going to owe him for this one—big time.
CHAPTER 9
Ryan knew that his brothers would demand an explanation for his bizarre behavior at Meecham’s. For that reason alone, he almost went to a hotel instead of the grand mansion the American Duke had inherited months earlier.
What he hadn’t anticipated was the completely overwhelming and altogether unfamiliar feelings of jealousy swamping him when both James and Oliver expressed interest in his lovely Lillian.
He wanted to smash some of his brother’s heads together.
He wasn’t certain when he had decided that she was going to be his. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to be one of his brothers. And the more they waxed on about how charmingly she blushed as she stomped upon their toes, the angrier he became.
Was he thinking more with his head and less with his heart, he might have realized that his brothers were well aware that their brother was in calf love?
“I had no idea the younger Moberly chit was such a treasure.” Oliver took a sip of the French brandy that Ian had just poured from the sideboard.
“That is because you were too busy hiding from her elder sister,” Ian replied helpfully, returning to the sitting area where all five of the Stanford brothers were in some state of repose.
“This is the best brandy I have ever tasted,” James rolled the words out languidly. “I think this has to be my favorite perk of Ollie being a Duke.”
Oliver scowled at his youngest sibling. These two were often at odds, “It is Your Grace, to you, plebeian.”
James gave a mock bow to the Duke, “Prince Ollie, I don’t want to pull caps with you!”
Jacob snorted, “You cannot expect for Jamie to put on airs Oliver. You might be a Duke, but you will always be our brother.”
Oliver rolled his eyes, “I am well aware of the fact. It is only that James delights in teasing me with that nickname that he knows I detest.”
Ryan smiled, at least they weren’t talking about Lillian anymore. He shouldn’t even have thought it.
“I should ask Lady Lillian if she is as averse to it as you are, Your Gracelessness,” James tipped his glass toward Oliver.
Oliver paled, “You wouldn’t!”
James lifted a brow, “Wouldn’t I?”
“I will tell her that we call you, Jamie!” Oliver said triumphantly.
James shrugged, “If that happens to come up in conversation, I give you full permission. I am not ashamed of who I am.”
Oliver looked outraged, “I am not in the least bit ashamed of who I am!”
Ian huffed and then threw back the remainder of his brandy, “I think I shall call it a night. These two idiots could be at it for hours yet.”
Ryan and Jacob nodded.
Ian turned to Ryan, “I just want you to know, that the next time you expect me to dance with someone that apparently does not want to dance, I am demanding cold hard cash. That was damned uncomfortable.”
Ryan let out a laugh of reassurance. It would seem that at least one of his brothers hadn’t fallen under Lillian’s spell.
“Fair enough,” Ryan agreed, “Same for you, Jacob?”
Jacob, third born and a peacemaker at heart, smiled kindly, “I am a great deal smarter than I look. I escorted Lady Lillian on a short walk around the ballroom. I gave her a choice between that and dance, and she jumped at it. I was pleasantly surprised at how engaging her conversation and intelligence is. Usually with young ladies, I feel like they have no opinions at all and only agree with everything I say. Lady Lillian was well spoken. I liked her very much.”
Ryan growled.
Jacob laughed holding up his hands as a sign of surrender, “Obviously not quite as much as Ryan, but I did find the young lady pleasing.”
Ian glanced at his older brother, “Are we to know what brought this sudden infatuation on?”
Ryan frowned, “Not yet. I am not certain I can put it into words.”
Ian’s eyes widened, “I see.”
Jacob cocked his head, “Can you tell us why you wanted all of us to dance with her?”
Ryan nodded, “I met her in the hallway. She was standing there all alone. It was very unusual, but then it would seem that I am always coming across her in particular circumstances. I asked for a dance, and when I saw the card, I could not understand why it was empty. She said it was because she was so terrible at it.”
Jacob looked askance, as a gentleman he really couldn’t agree, but Lady Lillian was a deplorable dancer.
Ian had no such scruples, “She is the worst dancer I have ever danced with.”
“I know,” Ryan agreed, “I told her that it shouldn’t matter. Gentleman should be lining up just to hold her in his arms for the space of a dance.”
His brothers were silent. What they had thought was calf-love was quickly looking to be so much more severe.
Ian shook his head to clear it, “You are right of course. Her dance card should be full. She is a delightful girl.”
Jacob nodded, “I know that I will be sure to seek her out again, if that is what you would like me to do. I am not ready to set up house or anything, but I did like speaking with her.”
Ryan suddenly laughed, “I don’t think that any of us are ready to set up house yet, Jac
ob.”
The boys all laughed and went to their separate bedrooms but not before Ian and Jacob exchanged a long knowing look. Their older brother may not think he was ready for something more, but his actions were certainly proving otherwise.
Meanwhile, the eldest and the youngest were still arguing in the library with the expensive smuggled French brandy.
CHAPTER 10
Juliana’s eyes danced as she watched her younger sister Lillian squirm under their mother’s watchful eye at the breakfast table the following morning after the Meecham’s ball.
“I just cannot seem to understand why Lady Genevieve would be asking me such personal questions about my household staff. Are you quite certain that you did not imply anything, Lillian?”
Lillian was aghast, “Mother! I would never!”
Their elder brother and his wife Eden had long since escaped. They both claimed that their toddler needed them in the nursery. Juliana wouldn’t have missed this for the world.
The Dowager sniffed, “I just find it troubling that I leave my two daughters with one of my oldest friends and she comes back knowing things that she should never know.”
Lillian gritted her teeth, “Mother, we never discussed you. Why are you not aggrieved with Juliana?”
The Dowager’s eyes narrowed, “You think that I didn’t notice your influx of dancing partners last evening?”
A delicate flush washed over Lillian’s face, but her gaze didn't waver.
“Very well, miss, we shall discuss it. First, there was the new Duke and every single one of his brothers. I believe there are four of them?”
“Five!” Juliana supplied helpfully.
If looks could kill, Lillian would be down one sister.
The Dowager nodded, “Thank you, Juliana. Second, there was the new French Comte. Third, there was Baron Hollingsworth. He hasn’t a feather to fly with Lillian. Honestly, I really wish you wouldn’t have. And last, Mr. Harris, that acquaintance of your brother’s. You have never, in all the time you have been out, danced so many dances. What is the meaning of all this? I demand an explanation!”
