Chase Family Collection: Limited Christmas Edition

by Lauren Royal

  “The sleeping party, remember?” Rose put a hand on Lily’s arm, her eyes dark with concern. “You said Violet should come over to sleep. And I think we should invite Judith, too. She’s your best friend—she’ll want to hear what’s happening. I’m going to write notes to both of them and ask Parkinson to see they’re delivered.”

  Before Lily could protest, Rose was off.

  For a while Lily stood in a daze, then she went upstairs and changed into a more comfortable gown. She didn’t need to impress anyone here at Trentingham.

  By the time she caught up with her sister, messages had been sent to both Violet and Judith, and Rose was in the kitchen talking to Mrs. Crump, their cook. “Fruit, nuts, bread, and cheese. And some nun’s biscuits,” she said, “since those are Lily’s favorites. We need it all ready to take to her room at nine o’clock.” Spotting Lily, she turned and smiled. “We don’t want to starve during our sleeping party.”

  Lily hadn’t realized her sister could be so efficient. Or kind—especially considering the broken promise. “Why are you doing all this, Rose?”

  A flush touched Rose’s cheeks. “You told Rand that two heads are better than one. Well, four would be even better, don’t you think? Perhaps tonight we can hit upon a solution.”

  Lily wasn’t sure she felt up to what Rose had planned, but she sincerely appreciated the sentiment. “Thank you,” she said, “for caring.”

  “Don’t be a goose,” Rose said with a wave of a hand. “You’re my sister. Now, we’ll need some nice flower arrangements for the supper table and your chamber. I’d best get busy.”

  As Rose hurried away, Lily looked after her in wonder. It seemed her sister was back to normal, but she couldn’t figure out why.

  A soft drizzle began to fall outside, turning the world gray and dismal to match Lily’s mood. Violet and Judith both arrived in time for supper, and the whole story was told again. By the time they all made it up to Lily’s room for their sleeping party, laden with a decanter of wine and the refreshments that Mrs. Crump had prepared, Lily was exhausted to the point of numbness.

  She collapsed crosswise on top of her white coverlet. “I’m afraid you’re going to have your party without me.”

  Violet set down a bowl of fruit and reached a hand to help her sit. “I’m sure you’re tired,” she said sympathetically, settling beside her on the bed. “But we have a mission to accomplish.”

  Even in her state, Lily couldn’t help but notice the faint circles under her oldest sister’s eyes. “You look rather tired yourself.”

  “Two babies will do that to you,” Violet said with a tender smile. But it faded as she watched Lily lay a hand on her abdomen. “You’ll have children, too, Lily.”

  “We just have to put our heads together and come up with a brilliant idea,” Rose said as she sat herself on Lily’s other side.

  The three of them against all the injustice in the world.

  “Why?” Lily couldn’t help asking Rose. “Why all of a sudden are you willing to help me wed Rand Nesbitt?”

  “The Earl of Newcliffe,” Rose corrected her, but not unkindly. “And as to why…well…” Her cheeks reddened. “This afternoon, when I saw how miserable you were, and Rand, too—well, it made me realize I’d never loved him like that. I only wanted him because he’s so handsome.”

  “And titled,” Violet reminded her, leaning across Lily to send their sister an arch look.

  “Well, that, too. I do want someone of consequence, you know. But Lily and Rand—they belong together.”

  “Thank you,” Lily whispered. How bittersweet it was to have her sister finally approve at the same time her betrothal was falling apart.

  Seated at Lily’s dressing table with a platter of bread and cheese, Judith stopped eating long enough to release a languid sigh. “You and Rand are so romantic.”

  Lily eyed her friend thoughtfully. “You look happy.”

  “I am.” Judith’s pale blue eyes shone. “I’ve spent some time alone with Edmund—I mean, Lord Grenville—”

  “You’d never been alone with him?” Rose interrupted.

  Buttering bread, Judith blushed. “Well, it’s not exactly proper, I know, but Papa managed to talk Mama into allowing it. I was so very unhappy, not really knowing Edmund and thinking I might never come to love him.”

  Lily began filling four goblets with wine. “So what happened?”

  Judith looked up, her cheeks flushed with wonder. “He’s ever so marvelous. The sweetest man. I cannot imagine why I expected to fall in love at first sight. It takes getting to know someone, don’t you think? What a man looks like doesn’t matter as much as what he’s like inside.”

  Rand, Lily thought, was wonderful both inside and out. She would never find another man so perfect.

  She handed Judith a cup. “So what is Lord Grenville like inside?”

  “Thoughtful. Kind. He answered all my questions and listened when I answered his. He loved his first wife dearly, but he was ever so sad that she couldn’t give him any children. More than anything, he wants children. And I…I want to give them to him.”

  “Have you considered,” Rose asked, “that the failure to have children might be due to some lack on his part?” It was just like Rose to say out loud what other women would only wonder silently. “After all,” she added, “he’s thirty-five.” She said thirty-five as though the man were likely to topple over and die of old age at any moment.

  “That’s not so ancient!” Judith burst out defensively. Lily’s sister blinked, clearly taken aback, but Judith went on. “Do you know, Rose, that someday you will be five-and-thirty, too? And for your sake, I hope by then—”

  She broke off, leaving the rest of the sentence unspoken. But they all knew what she’d been about to say.

  I hope by then you’ll have found a husband.

  “Well,” Rose said stiffly. “I hope for your sake that Lord Grenville’s childlessness wasn’t due to his own shortcomings. I expect you may gain some enlightenment when you discover whether he’s skilled in the bedchamber.”

  “I can assure you,” Judith said just as stiffly, “that his childlessness had nothing to do with his skills. He’s a very good kisser.” A hunk of cheese halfway to her mouth, she paused and glanced around as though waiting for them all to express shock. “Are you not scandalized,” she finally asked no one in particular, “that I allowed him to kiss me?”

  Violet laughed. “No, we’re not scandalized. As a matter of fact, Mum always advised us to kiss a man before assenting to marriage. After all, it’s a lifetime commitment, so it’s a good idea to assure you’re compatible in that area.”

  “Oh,” was all Judith said.

  In fact, Lily thought she looked a mite disappointed they didn’t think her a fallen woman.

  “I’m so glad you’re happy,” she told her. “I imagine that now you’re really looking forward to your wedding.”

  “Oh, yes,” Judith breathed.

  Lily wished she had her own wedding to look forward to instead of dreading Rand and Margery’s. Five days now. While she was thrilled for Judith, for some reason her friend’s newfound happiness made her own situation seem that much more miserable.

  Judith handed her a nun’s biscuit. “Have you kissed Rand?”

  Biting into the sweet almond and lemon treat, Lily nodded and left it at that.

  “She’s done much more than kiss him,” Rose said, waggling her brows.

  Feeling her face flood with color, Lily gasped. In Oxford, Rose had promised not to tell. She glared at her sister. “You have no reason to believe such a thing.”

  Rose’s dark eyes widened as she got the message. “Gemini, I was only jesting.”

  Lily brushed sugary crumbs off her skirts while she thought of a way to quickly change the subject. “Remember that song I was practicing for Rand? The one he’s always humming?”

  “What of it?”

  “It has naughty words. And he knows others, too. He has a whole book of th
em.”

  “A book?” Rose licked her lips. “Did you read them all? Or play them?”

  “Only a couple that Rand remembered. The book is in Oxford.”

  Rose looked very disappointed.

  “Could you mean An Antidote Against Melancholy?” Violet reached for a strawberry. “Ford has that book.”

  “In your library?”

  “No, upstairs, mixed in with all of his dusty science tomes and various books from when he attended university. I’ve looked through that songbook—it is very naughty,” she added with a grin.

  Lily sipped her wine. “How funny that he and Rand would have the same book.”

  “Perhaps it was required reading at Oxford,” Judith quipped, eliciting titters from Lily’s sisters.

  “Let’s send for it,” Rose suggested. The glitter in her eyes belied her solemn tone. “It sounds educational.”

  Violet laughed but scribbled a note to Ford. They sent a footman to deliver it and instructed him to wait and bring the book back. “Now,” she said, “while we wait, we must solve the problem at hand.”

  Lily went over the whole story again, all the depressing details. Then they tossed around ideas. But every solution proposed, no matter how promising at first, turned out to be flawed, impossible, or downright ludicrous.

  As it appeared more and more that Lily’s situation was hopeless, the suggestions became fewer and farther between, until an hour later they finally fell into a heavy silence.

  Violet slipped off her spectacles and polished them on her skirts. “Egad, we’re a woebegone bunch. This is supposed to be a party. We’ll discuss this again later, but for now, let’s see if the songbook has arrived.”

  Soon they were in the drawing room, giggling, the book propped up on the harpsichord where they could all see the words while Lily read the music.

  “Play this one, Lily,” Rose said, her dark eyes wide. She began singing.

  “Let her face be fair,

  And her breasts be bare,

  And a voice let her have that can warble;

  Let her belly be soft—but to mount me aloft,

  Let her bounding buttocks be marble!”

  They’d brought the wine with them, and Judith gulped hers, looking shocked. “I cannot believe men sing songs like that!”

  Amusement twitched Violet’s lips. “Oh, women sing songs like that, too.”

  “They don’t,” Judith said.

  “They do.” Violet reached over Lily’s shoulder to flip some pages, then stepped back. “‘The Nurse’s Song.’ Play this one, dear sister.” She sang along with Rose.

  “My dear cockadoodle,

  My jewel, my joy,

  My darling, my honey,

  My pretty sweet boy!

  To make thee grow quickly

  I’ll do what I can:

  I’ll feed thee, I’ll stroke thee,

  I’ll make thee a man.”

  The Ashcroft sisters laughed, but Judith gulped more wine. “I don’t understand. To make thee grow quickly?”

  “It’s the man’s yard the song speaks of,” Rose said.

  “His yard?” If anything, Judith looked even more confused.

  Rose waved a hand. “The man’s…you know.”

  For all her forthrightness, Lily thought, Rose was still innocent.

  “I vow and swear,” Rose continued, “you must read Aristotle’s Master-piece before you get married.”

  Now Judith gasped. Although she knew the Ashcroft sisters had all read it, the book was considered scandalous. A desperate look in her eyes, she turned to Violet. “You’re married. Tell me.”

  Lily was relieved that she wasn’t the one asked to explain.

  While a pink-cheeked Judith learned the facts from Violet, Rose flipped pages in the book. “Here’s another one for women to sing,” she said when Violet was finished. “‘A Tenement to Let.’”

  Lily set the book back up on the harpsichord and began to play.

  “I have a tenement to let,

  I hope will please you all—

  And if you’d know the name of it,

  ’Tis calléd Cunny Hall

  “The place is very dark by night

  And so it is by day:

  But when you once are entered in,

  You cannot lose your way.

  “And when you’re in, go boldly on,

  As far as e’er you can:

  And if you reach to the house-top

  You’ll be where ne’er was a man!”

  Even Judith understood that one, as her rapidly reddening cheeks proved. While Rose started turning pages again, Judith sipped more wine. “‘Tom Tinker,’” she said, staying Rose’s hand. “That one sounds good.”

  “Innocent, you mean?” Violet’s brown eyes sparkled behind her spectacles. “I can promise you, it isn’t.”

  This time, they all sang together.

  “Tom Tinker’s my true-love, and I am his dear,

  and I will go with him, his toolkit to bear.

  He calls me his jewel, his delicate duck,

  And then he will take up my chemise to—”

  “That’s ever so—” Judith interrupted loudly, then seemed unable to continue.

  Lily stopped playing and looked up into her friend’s bright red face. “What’s your problem this time, Judith?” Despite everything, she was beginning to have fun. Perhaps it was the wine. Or the companionship. Or perhaps one could be woebegone, as Violet had put it, for only so long before needing to forget for a spell—even if only a very short one. “That’s ever so what?”

  “That word there that’s missing—the one that rhymes with ‘duck.’ Why, I do believe…” Judith trailed off, her face turning even redder.

  “Yes,” Violet said dryly. “The word begins with f and we all know what it is now, don’t we? But the point, dear Judith, is that it is missing. See here, the last printed word is ‘to,’ and after that comes the chorus.”

  Judith gulped more wine, clearly getting a little tipsy. “You said that so matter-of-factly,” she observed, admiration lacing her voice. “You’re so practical and calm, even discussing…”

  “Lovemaking?” Rose finished for her with a grin. “That comes of being an old married lady.”

  “I am not old!” Violet protested, reaching to shove Rose’s shoulder. But Rose just laughed and launched into the chorus. The others joined, even Lily, even though she couldn’t carry a tune. Tonight that didn’t seem to matter.

  “This way, that way, which way you will,

  I am sure I say nothing that you can take ill!”

  “See?” Violet said while Lily continued playing. “We’re all proper ladies, aren’t we? We’d never say a word that could be taken ill!”

  Amid laughter, they kept singing.

  “Tom Tinker I say was a jolly stout lad,

  He tickled young Nancy and made her stark mad

  To play a new game with him on the grass,

  By reason she knew that he had a good—”

  “Ass!” Judith crowed, filling in the word they all thought even though it wasn’t meant to be sung.

  “This way, that way, which way you will,

  I am sure I say nothing. . .”

  Fifty-Five

  “…THAT YOU can take ill!” Chrystabel sang under her breath.

  Stretched out beside her on their bed, Joseph couldn’t hear the words filtering through the thick stone walls. “What’s that, Chrysanthemum?”

  “Nothing, darling. I was just talking to myself.” She sipped from her goblet of wine. “I’m so happy that Lily is enjoying herself.”

  He drank with one hand while inching his other fingers beneath her night rail. “What are they singing?”

  “Oh, I cannot make out the tunes.” He’d die if he knew. Joseph liked to think his daughters were much too ladylike for bawdy fun, and she wouldn’t be the one to disabuse him of the notion. “I’m sure the others are just trying to cheer Lily up. And doing an excellent job, from the s
ound of it.”

  She stifled a laugh as she heard them rhyme five with the supposed-to-be-unspoken swive, and then launch into “This way, that way” again. “It was good of Rose to plan the sleeping party. Thoughtful, don’t you think?”

  Setting down his empty goblet, Joseph nodded. “Perhaps Rose has finally grown up.”

  “Perhaps she has.” Chrystabel finished her own wine and sighed. “Our children are all growing up.”

  “Too fast,” he agreed. His hand on her body stilled as his green eyes turned troubled. He hesitated. “About Lily—”

  “I’m concerned, yes. Worried sick, truth be told. Should Rand not find a way out of this, Lily will be left devastated.”

  “And perhaps with child,” he added in a rush.

  “Oh, Lily isn’t with child.” Turning to face him, she reached to caress one whisker-roughened cheek. “I suppose I should have told you, but it never occurred to me that you would worry.” She always expected him to be oblivious to such things, like other men. But sometimes he surprised her. And he did love his children very much.

  That was only one of the many reasons she loved him so very much.

  “You’re still convinced they haven’t shared a bed?” He frowned. “How do you know? A mother’s intuition? Because I’ve told you before, my love, you cannot tell these things just by looking—”

  She laughed, a sound of amusement mixed with relief. “I know because Lily’s maid told me her courses are upon her.”

  “Oh.” He reddened, as he usually did when confronted by womanly things. But she felt his body relax into the mattress.

  “I do think, though,” she continued, “that perhaps it isn’t such a good idea, after all, to allow young people such privacy. No matter how perfect they are for each other. If things had gone differently, we might have had a disaster on our hands. I…well, in plotting the best way to match Lily and Rand, I think in this one matter I may have been wrong.”