A Season of Ruin

by Anna Bradley

  Lily looked down at the bloody violets in her lap to avoid Eleanor’s penetrating gaze. “He was. What of Mrs. Tittleton, Ellie?”

  She’d rather discuss Mrs. Tittleton than Robyn? Dear God. That was a bad sign, indeed.

  Ellie looked down at the sheet still clutched in her fingers as if she’d forgotten it was there. “Oh, yes. Well, that’s another odd thing.”

  “Oh, no,” Charlotte groaned. “I suppose there’s a lurid and greatly exaggerated account of the confrontation between Lily and Lady Chase?”

  The color must have drained from Lily’s face then, for Ellie shot to her feet and hurried across the room to her. “I beg your pardon, Lily. I should have made myself clear. It’s odd in the best possible way.”

  She held the paper out to Lily.

  Lily reached for it as if she were afraid it would burst into flames in her hand. She ran her eyes quickly over the sheet, turned it over and glanced at the back, then looked up at Ellie. “There’s nothing here.”

  “What, nothing?” Charlotte tossed away her embroidery and held out her hand for the paper.

  Lily could hardly believe it herself. She rose to hand the paper to Charlotte, then paced over to the window, then to the fireplace, unable to sit still. She was relieved, of course—vastly so. It was the best possible outcome. She couldn’t think of anything that could please her more, in fact. Not one thing. Yet her spirits still remained low, for reasons she didn’t care to examine.

  Why would Robyn send her away last night and then spend the night in the study?

  Lily shook her head to clear the traitorous thought. It hardly mattered. Whatever Robyn chose to do with his lovers hadn’t a thing to do with her—he’d made that clear last night. She had far more important things to worry about than where Robyn chose to spend his nights, or with whom he chose to spend them.

  Or what he did with them. And to them.

  Charlotte ran a careful eye over the sheet. “Why, how curious. What can it mean?”

  “Perhaps the awful woman has at last developed a conscience,” Lady Catherine said.

  Lily doubted it. “I’m not certain this is good news.”

  What fresh torture might Mrs. Tittleton have in mind? It seemed too much to hope that the odious woman would overlook such a delicious scandal. Whatever it was, it was sure to be dreadful, like a series of columns on Lily’s exploits with Robyn, followed by a detailed account of how Lady Anne Chase had cut her own granddaughters.

  Dreadful, indeed. So why didn’t Lily care more?

  She glanced at Ellie. “What do you think, Eleanor?”

  Ellie spread her hands wide in a helpless gesture. “I hardly know what to think. It could be that—”

  She got no further, for at that moment a commotion broke out in the entryway. Lily couldn’t quite make it out, but it sounded as if a visitor had come to call and Rylands had denied them entrance.

  “Now what?” Lady Catherine muttered irritably. “Charlotte, be a dear and see what the trouble is, won’t you?”

  “Of course.” Charlotte rose to do her mother’s bidding, but before she could take a step toward the door, the argument in the entryway grew louder. Lily heard a woman’s voice raised in anger.

  “Stand aside, young man, for enter I will, despite your objections!”

  “I’m afraid not, ma’am,” a low voice drawled. “Miss Somerset is not at home to visitors.”

  Good God. It wasn’t Rylands who refused entrance. It was Robyn.

  Lily’s first confused thought was that Mrs. Tittleton had come to call. Why, the audacity of the woman!

  A loud rap sounded then, as if someone had stamped a foot.

  “Don’t you try and put me off, thump, you rapscallion, thump. Do you know who I am? Thump. I will see her.” Thump.

  “Oh, I know who you are, Lady Chase,” Robyn replied, a thread of warning now underlying his polite tone.

  Oh, dear God. Lily swayed as the room tilted crazily.

  It wasn’t Mrs. Tittleton, and the rap they’d heard wasn’t a stamped foot. It was a cane being thumped repeatedly against the marble floor. Lily grasped the mantelpiece for support and pressed her hand to her stomach to forestall the sudden queasiness.

  Lady Anne Chase had come to call. She stood in the entryway at this very moment, sounding as though she was about to strike Robyn with her cane.

  All four ladies in the drawing room realized it at once. There was a brief silence as they exchanged stricken glances, then Charlotte moved to the door. “Don’t worry, Lily. Robyn won’t let her in.” She placed a hand flat against the wood panel, as if she were prepared to tackle Lady Chase to the floor should the old woman manage to get past Robyn.

  “And I know who you are.” Thump. “Young Sutherland, is it? All of London knows who you are, you young scoundrel.”

  “I’m sorry my behavior has disappointed you, ma’am,” Robyn said, sounding anything but sorry. “Scoundrel or no, I’m afraid I won’t allow you to harass Miss Somerset.”

  A pool of warmth gathered in Lily’s stomach at Robyn’s words, and for the first time that day, her spirits lifted.

  Which only proved beyond a doubt what a fool she was.

  “Harass! Why, how dare you? I demand to see my granddaughter this instant!”

  “Granddaughter?” Lady Catherine said. “Granddaughter. Come away from the door, Charlotte.”

  Charlotte’s eyes widened. “But—”

  “Do as I say.” Lady Catherine’s tone was mild, but she advanced to the door with determined steps. She stopped in front of it and turned to Lily. “I think you’d better see what Lady Chase has to say, my dear. May I let her in?”

  Oh, please don’t! Lily opened her mouth to say the words aloud, but then closed it again, surprised to find a part of her clamored to hear what her grandmother had to say. Whatever it was, Lady Chase would surely find a way to say it, and it was much better done here in the privacy of the drawing room than at a ball with every member of the ton gawking at them.

  Lily loosened her grip on the mantel and raised her chin. She’d hear Lady Chase out, and she’d do it in a way that would have made her mother proud.

  She returned Lady Catherine’s steady gaze and nodded. “Very well.”

  Lady Catherine held her eyes for a moment, and her fond look made Lily’s throat choke with emotion. Then she nodded, stepped to the door, and opened it. “Robyn, please show Lady Chase into the drawing room.”

  There was a brief, surprised silence from the other side of the door, then a sound of rustling skirts as Lady Chase sailed into the room, Robyn in her wake. He was silent now, but his dark eyes found Lily’s as soon as he crossed the threshold.

  Lady Chase, however, seemed not to notice Lily, but fixed a beady blue eye on Lady Catherine. “Well, Lady Catherine Sutherland. I believe we’ve met before. It’s a pleasure to see you again, of course.”

  Lady Catherine curtsied. “You are very welcome in my home, my lady.”

  “Am I, indeed? I don’t imagine that’s true, given the reception I’ve received.” She raised her cane and jabbed it in Robyn’s direction. “This is your son, I believe?”

  “Yes, my lady. This is my younger son, Mr. Robert Sutherland, and my two daughters, Charlotte and Eleanor Sutherland.”

  Both Charlotte and Ellie rose and curtsied politely to Lady Chase, but their expressions remained cold.

  Lady Chase hardly spared them a glance, but she eyed Robyn as if she’d scraped him off the bottom of her shoe. “Humph.”

  Lady Catherine made a gesture toward Lily, who stood motionless by the fireplace, her face pale and set. “This, Lady Chase, is the second eldest of your five granddaughters. Miss Lily Somerset.”

  Lily watched as if in a dream as Lady Chase turned slowly toward her. The old lady was every bit as imposing as she’d been last night, with her c
ane and her snow white hair, but this time Lily scarcely noticed her grandmother’s severe grandeur. This time Lily found herself staring into those eyes, sunken in folds of wrinkled, powdered white flesh, but still so piercing, so blue.

  So like her mother’s blue eyes, except these eyes held a profound sadness deep in their depths. Lily hadn’t noticed it last night; she’d been too far away and too shocked to notice anything, but looking at her grandmother now, a memory drifted into her consciousness.

  Some years ago she’d attended an art exhibit and been fascinated with a collection of ancient Chinese vases. She’d been unable to take her eyes off them, so beautiful were they, and yet each one held a crack or a tiny chip or some other flaw that marred the surface. Lily found them more beautiful because of those imperfections. It amazed her, the way the minuscule flaws misled one into believing the vases were fragile, when each of them had remained whole for thousands of years.

  Lady Chase was very like those vases, with her aged majesty and her flawed blue eyes.

  For the first time that day, the old woman seemed to hesitate, but after a moment she held a hand out to Lily. “Come here, girl, and let me have a look at you.”

  Lily’s eyes found Robyn’s then. It would worry her later, how she’d instinctively sought him out, as if she couldn’t stir a step toward her grandmother without seeing him first, as if his dark eyes were the only means by which her feet could move across the floor. He returned her gaze with a look so warm and encouraging, it was as if he’d taken her hand.

  Lily straightened her spine, held her head high, and crossed the room to Lady Chase, who still stood with her hand extended. Lily took it and felt the gnarled fingers close tightly around hers.

  “So like her,” Lady Chase murmured, as if to herself. “The eyes, yes, and the hair, and yet there’s some of Henry Somerset there, too. I see it.”

  Lily, shocked to hear her father’s name on Lady Chase’s lips, had a sudden urge to snatch her hand away, but she resisted it. She’d always thought her grandmother despised her father, but Lady Chase’s voice was soft when she spoke of him, not angry or bitter.

  Lily looked into her grandmother’s eyes and saw they’d gone cloudy, as if Lady Chase were lost in her memories. “My lady?”

  The old lady seemed to come to herself again when Lily spoke. She cleared her throat. “Well, well, child. You’re the very image of your mother, as I’m sure you’ve been told many times.”

  “Yes, my lady,” Lily replied, then added hesitantly, “My sisters and I all resemble her greatly, Lady Chase.”

  “Indeed, indeed. Five of you, are there? The new Lady Carlisle the eldest? I saw her once, you know, several weeks ago, shopping on Bond Street. Knew her right away as Millicent’s daughter, just as I knew you last night.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Lily murmured, not sure what else to say.

  “Why did you run away, child?”

  Lady Chase’s voice had gentled, and to her horror, Lily felt hot tears gather in her throat. She swallowed. “I—the scandal, my lady. There’s been some unpleasantness, and I was afraid—”

  “Ah. You mean that Tittleton creature, I assume?” Lady Chase waved an imperious hand. “There will be no more of that, I can assure you. The woman has been dealt with. She will not bother you again.”

  Lily’s mouth dropped open. Had Lady Chase found a way to silence Mrs. Tittleton’s gossiping tongue? It seemed too good to be true, but then Lily recalled there had been nothing in the paper this morning about last night, and they’d all been so sure there would be.

  “I’m very appreciative—” Lily was about to express her gratitude when the greater implications of Lady Chase’s actions struck her and rendered her mute.

  Her grandmother had protected her from Mrs. Tittleton. It was the very last thing in the world Lily would have expected. What could it mean?

  Lady Chase waved off her thanks. “Never mind, never mind. Now, I’ve come to call today to extend an invitation for tomorrow night. A small affair at my town house. Just a few intimate friends and the . . . family.”

  She stumbled a little over the last word, then went on. “Your family will attend as well, Lady Catherine, and Lord and Lady Carlisle. You are all welcome, I suppose,” she added, casting a dubious eye in Robyn’s direction.

  The room plunged into silence as every eye in the room fixed on Lady Chase.

  Lady Catherine recovered first. “That is very kind, my lady, but might I inquire—”

  “If you are otherwise engaged, you will change your plans,” Lady Chase ordered. “I insist upon it.” A quick rap with the cane punctuated this statement.

  Robyn had remained by the door throughout the whole of this exchange, but now he stepped farther into the room. “My mother means to inquire into your intentions toward Miss Somerset, Lady Chase.”

  Lady Chase turned and looked him up and down. “She does, eh? Do you,” she asked, facing Lily again, “have questions in regards to my intentions as well, child?”

  Lily took a deep breath. “Yes, Lady Chase.”

  The blue eyes softened a little. “I’m not Lady Chase to you, child. I’m your grandmother, and you are my deceased daughter’s child. My intention is we all begin to behave as such. I have made a start today, and this is how I intend to go on. We’ve been too long estranged. Do you not agree?”

  “I do,” Lily whispered. “My mother deeply regretted the estrangement. My sisters and I have always regretted it as well, both for her sake and our own. But why, after all these years—”

  “Your grandfather died last year,” Lady Chase said abruptly. “Were you aware? He passed on not three months after the terrible accident that took your parents. I’ve always thought he died of . . . well, no matter what I thought.”

  Her voice trailed off. Lily remained silent, waiting.

  “He was a hard man, your grandfather. A good man, but a hard one. Unforgiving. He paid dearly for it, too. Oh my, yes, he did.”

  Lily heard the slight break in her grandmother’s voice and thought of the beautiful vases, made more so because of their distinctive cracks and flaws. She placed her hand over her grandmother’s dry, thin one.

  Lady Chase patted her hand. “There. It’s settled. I shall see you all tomorrow evening.”

  With one final severe glance in Robyn’s direction, Lady Chase swept out the door.

  Chapter Sixteen

  There wasn’t enough wine in the world to get him through this evening.

  A small fete, Lady Chase had said. Just a few intimate friends and the family. Robyn looked around at the fifty or so guests assembled in the ballroom. Either Lady Chase had a great many intimate friends, or the old dragon had lied.

  She had provided quite a surfeit of drink, however, and he was doing everything in his power to do justice to it.

  “Thirsty, are you?” Alec gestured to Robyn’s empty glass.

  Robyn watched in disgust as his brother took a judicious sip from his own full glass. “Or something. Christ, Alec. Delia could do a better job with that wine than you are.”

  “I could, indeed,” Delia agreed.

  Alec snorted. “For about half an hour, and then you’d see that wine again, and under far less appetizing circumstances.”

  Delia’s mouth dropped open. “Alec!”

  Robyn rolled his eyes and grabbed a glass from a passing tray. He looked at it with distaste. Wine would have to do until he managed to escape this hell, or ferret out where the late Lord Chase kept his whiskey.

  Delia arched an eyebrow at her husband. “I’ll have you know I feel quite well. Better than I have in weeks.”

  Alec gave her an appraising look. “You look fatigued, Lady Carlisle. I’ll have the carriage brought round.”

  Delia frowned. “Certainly not. It’s not every day one gains a new family member, is it? I could hardly believe it when Lily
told me.”

  “I can hardly believe it now,” Robyn muttered.

  Delia turned to watch as Lord Atherton maneuvered Lily into another sweeping turn in the dance. “Lily appears to be enjoying herself.”

  Atherton. It had to be bloody Atherton.

  Robyn emptied his wineglass with one swallow. “Yes, doesn’t she?”

  Lord Atherton hadn’t spared Lily a glance during the Mrs. Tittleton debacle. He hadn’t spoken a word to her at Almack’s, and yet there she was in his arms, smiling up at him as if he were the most compelling man she’d ever met.

  She had a bloody short memory.

  Mere hours ago she’d been in Robyn’s arms, pressed against him, pleading with him to—

  Delia broke into his reverie. “You don’t sound at all pleased about it, Robyn. You’re happy for her, aren’t you?”

  Was he happy for her? He should be. He knew better than anyone it meant the world to Lily to be reunited with her grandmother. Lady Chase had made Mrs. Tittleton and her ugly scandal disappear, and by the most wondrous stroke of luck, Lady Chase and Lady Atherton were the oldest and dearest of friends.

  Yes, wasn’t that fortunate?

  Robyn glanced over at those two worthy ladies, huddled together like a couple of cantankerous old sheep. The two dowagers commanded a view of the entire room from where they stood, and even from this distance, Robyn could see both their gazes fixed on Atherton and Lily.

  Yes, the stars had finally aligned in Lily’s favor, and if one could judge by Atherton’s ridiculously satisfied expression, her plans were falling neatly into place at last.

  Of course he was bloody happy for her. Ecstatic, even. He’d never been happier about anything in his life, damn it. If his stomach churned with bile and queasiness clutched at his throat, it was the fault of the watery wine he’d drunk. It hadn’t a thing to do with Lily and Atherton.

  Though he would have thought she’d at least have some difficulty transferring her affections to Atherton after she’d kissed him with such abandon. It was almost impolite, how completely she seemed to have forgotten him.