Persuasion

by Owner

  stopped her from shaking it rapidly from side to side in quick denial. She had

  to settle with a slight tensing of her throat and neck, which was no release

  at all!

  Noticing that they were three quarters of the way down the staircase, she

  once more scanned the room and knew that Dorian was not there. It was

  then that she knew who she would be meeting. And even though she hated

  herself for it and felt unbearably weak for feeling thus, fright began to crawl

  through her veins like millions of spiders slowly creeping through her blood

  stream. The sensation was such that Lily was hard-pressed not to shudder!

  The blackmailer was here, roaming about the room with a freedom of

  movement that she herself did not possess.

  He was probably watching her at this very moment and waiting to pounce.

  His eyes were probably taking in the picture she made, the unspoken

  language of her body . . . and he was more than likely analyzing it to his

  own gain.

  Hatred soared through her with an intensity she had never before known. It

  was not in Lily's nature to hate, but hate she did. She detested this man for

  putting her through this ordeal. For making her fear the shadows, where she

  was certain he was hiding . . . . Logically, she knew that to not be true. Why

  should he hide when she did not have a clue as to who he was? But it was

  how she thought of him, a man of the shadows, a man of the dark who

  tormented the innocent for his own purposes and his own end.

  She closed her eyes at the thought and felt the slow and subtle pinprick of

  tears that longed to fall. But she could not let them. She had to be strong.

  Lily had to protect her mother. It was perhaps the only thing that gave her

  strength. That enabled her to move on. That, and the fact that that bastard

  was watching and was more than likely pleased by the slight nuances of

  frailty she was probably displaying for the world at large to see.

  Grimacing, she once more allowed her eyes to wander about the room as

  soon as her feet touched floor and felt herself genuinely smile for the first

  time in a long while. She spied someone that she had not seen since the

  night of her come out.

  Anna Sampson.

  Pleasure rushed through her. Its source was twofold. Firstly, she felt

  nostalgic. While her come out had not been to her taste, it had been a

  simpler time, a time when she was free from this external pressure. And

  secondly, Anna reminded her of herself. Outspoken, cynical, witty . . . who

  could not enjoy such a personality?

  Without waiting for her aunt, Lily rushed towards the girl and bobbed her

  and her mother a quick curtsy. Once that nicety was out of the way, she

  reached for Anna's hand and sighed, glad to have met with her new friend

  once more. “Miss Sampson, how have you been? It is so wonderful to finally

  meet you again."

  "I am very well, thank you, Lady Mercer, and yourself?" Anna replied with a faint flush. She ducked her head and was obviously discomforted by Lily's

  effusiveness.

  Not offended, for she realized that that stemmed simply from her mother's

  presence, Lily tightened her fingers about Anna's hand and then released her

  quickly. “I, too, am well, thank you, Miss Sampson. And you, ma'am?" she

  asked, turning towards Anna's mama.

  "Thank you for your interest, Lady Mercer, I am in the peak of health."

  "I am glad to hear it," Lily replied with a smile. "Would you mind awfully Mrs. Sampson, if I stole your daughter for a promenade about the

  ballroom?"

  "I'm sure Anna would be most delighted. She has spoken of you quite often

  in the weeks since your come out, Lady Mercer."

  "And I have thought of her," Lily replied earnestly. "I have often sought you out, Anna, but as I said earlier, failed to see you."

  "Yes, unfortunately, Anna fell ill only a few days after she last saw you.

  Tonight is only the second soirée that we have attended!" This was said with

  a disapproving frown, under which Anna cowered.

  Spying this, Lily frowned herself and then, reached once more for Anna's

  hand and tucked it beneath her elbow. "I'm so sorry to hear that, but I'm

  sure that Anna must be wilting in the heat. As we promenade, I shall ensure

  that we take a breath of fresh air from the balconies," she replied with a

  polite nod to Mrs. Sampson.

  Mrs. Sampson nodded and smiled, which was the sign Lily needed and she

  quickly tugged Anna away from her mother's grasp and deeper into the

  crush.

  "It is so good to see you, Anna."

  "And I, you, my lady."

  "Hush, why so formal?"

  "I have learned in my short stay in London that it is always wise to at first

  be more formal. One risks fewer cuts that way I have found."

  “Tosh, why should I cut you?”

  “For reasons of your own, Lily,” was the wry reply. "Never mind that now,

  the formalities are out of the way," she teased. “You look peaky, Lily.”

  “I do?” She laughed a little forcedly. "I am sure that like yourself it is merely the heat."

  Anna hummed unconvincedly under her breath but Lily ignored it.

  “Did you have a touch of influenza? A few of my aunt's friends came down

  with that particular malady. You may think me rotten, Anna, but to nicer

  women it couldn't have happened! My aunt is one of the sweetest ladies I

  have yet to meet, but the company she keeps!” Lily huffed under her breath

  and then felt her lips twitch as Anna's laughed.

  “No,” she said around a grin. “I did not have influenza. I fear it will be your

  turn to laugh, Lily. But . . . unfortunately, I had a succession of rather

  unpleasant blemishes. My Abigail insisted that a touch of Pear's Almond

  Bloom would be quite sufficient to hide it, but my mama would not hear of

  it. I have been daubed in all kinds of cosmetics these weeks past,” Anna said

  with a grim sigh. “From Olympian Dew to Milk of Roses. I've had more

  cucumber on my face than in my sandwiches and mama has nigh starved

  me to death for she is certain that my love of sweet tea is the reason for my

  poor complexion,” she finished on a complaining note and then grimaced as

  Lily did indeed begin to laugh. “It’s very well for you to laugh at my

  misfortune!”

  “I laugh with you, not at you,” Lily promised and raised her free hand to

  cover her mouth and her smile!

  “I am quite sure that I don't believe you!”

  “I promise! I promise!”

  She hummed again. “Lud, what a bore it is to be a débutante. My sister

  promised me routs and parties galore. She did not tell me that each party

  would be exactly the same as every other and that one would wilt in this

  awful heat!”

  “Don't forget the stench,” Lily pointed out with a wry grin.

  “Ah, so it is not just I who has smelled the pleasant odor of unwashed

  bodies?” Anna nodded stoutly. “Disgusting, is it not?”

  “It is,” Lily remarked darkly. “Have you yet to attend the theater?”

  “No. I am due to attend next week. My mama has an invitation from our

  hostess this evening.”

  "If you believe this to be bad, then you should wait until you visit that

  particular event!” s
he murmured, tilting her head to the side mischievously

  as she wafted a hand in front of her nose. “I've taken to carrying a

  handkerchief doused in rose or lavender water. It . . . perfumes the hideous

  smells rather than completely disguising them, but it helps.”

  “What a good idea! If my mama were to notice it, then she would not

  chastise me for carrying a mere handkerchief!”

  “You are so outspoken, Anna. I cannot understand why you cower before

  your mother,” Lily asked gently, as they walked to the balconies and out into

  the fresh air. Not that it was all that fresh, simply cleaner than the air they

  had been breathing within the confines of the house.

  It was Anna's turn to wave a hand. “Pff, it is merely self-preservation. It is

  fair easier to do as mama says than to act against her wishes.”

  “Again, that sounds most unlike you.”

  “Perhaps. But I was taught by my father at a young age. At home, she is

  rather more . . . flexible. She is rather terrified of making a bad impression

  in front of the ton and is quite petrified that if she makes even one error, I

  will be cast out by the gentlemen seeking wives.”

  “Ah. It is a shame that she feels thus.”

  “Perhaps, but it is her way and unfortunately, the way of most people in my

  class.”

  “Do we not share the same class, then?”

  Anna snorted. “Indeed, we do not! You, my Lady Mercer, are just that,

  renowned about the ton for your icy beauty and icy temperament. And then,

  after you are known for those qualities, you are known to be the daughter of

  the rich Marquess of Grantlake, who quite infamously landed upon you a

  dowry that would suit Prinny himself!”

  “Tosh!” Lily interrupted.

  “No, please, wait,” Anna said and held up a hand. “Permit me to finish.” Lily

  nodded her permission. “I am the daughter of a third son of an Earl, whose

  parish church is quite simply falling to bits around its clergyman! We are not

  of the same class, even if we have the same tone of voice.”

  Unable to help it, Lily's lips twitched. “I believe there is a reprimand in there

  somewhere.”

  Anna grinned. “Perhaps.”

  “However, permit me to defend myself now. It is simply a chance of birth

  that I was born into both a rich and pretty family.”

  “Again, perhaps, but you cannot deny that your status makes you

  untouchable?”

  Instantly, Lily's good mood disappeared. Untouchable? No, she wasn't

  untouchable. How she wished that she was!

  Still in possession of Anna's hand, she dragged them away from the

  balconies and into the heaving ballroom. There were at least three hundred

  people within the room's confines and the tumultuous combination of body

  heat, body odor and the oppressive warmth from the chandeliers above was

  not a pleasant one, especially when compared to the relative looseness of

  atmosphere outside of the house. The scents and sounds of a ball were

  never all that grand, however the Ipswich ball seemed worse than most.

  The combination of her physical responses to the ball itself and that

  thoughtless term of Anna's had Lily feeling as trapped as a rabbit caught in a

  snare. And as she guided Anna and herself through the crowds, a harried

  need overcame her. Her need to avoid the shadows and any location in

  which her blackmailer could find her, trap her within his web and force her to

  act, started to hold the utmost importance. Her heart began to beat rapidly

  in her chest and when she felt the swift flood of blood coursing through her

  veins, nausea began to assail her. Suddenly, she could not swallow and a

  choking sensation overcame her and merely doubled her panic.

  Perhaps the only thing that saved her from making a fool of herself, was the

  fact that Anna began to tug at her arm. She came to a quick halt and as

  Anna frowned at her in concern, she sucked in deep cleansing breaths and

  turned her face away to hide her expression from the perceptive other girl.

  “What on earth is the matter, Lily?”

  Gulping, she shook her head. “Nothing.”

  It was rather more frantic than she would have liked, but then, that was how

  she felt, frantic.

  “You are quite sure?”

  “Positive.”

  Again Anna seemed quite unconvinced, but what could Lily say? She could

  say nothing. This burden was hers alone to bear and while she felt quite

  inept at the task, she had no choice.

  She now wished that when she had first seen Anna, she had turned away.

  While they hardly knew one another, from their previous conversations

  together, Lily knew how perceptive Anna was, just as Lily was. And if

  someone were to behave as strangely as she was behaving, then Lily would

  have been most suspicious and curious also. Questions aplenty would have

  abounded!

  Lifting a shaky hand to her forehead, she patted the slight beads of sweat on

  her brow with her fingers and hoped to God that Anna would not be asking

  many questions. That, Lily was certain, she would not be able to handle.

  “Look, you are sweating and shaking. Are you ill?” Anna asked, her voice

  filled with concern. And it was a genuine concern. Not like the usual tonnish

  inquisitiveness at play.

  Instantly, Lily felt guilty. It was quite obvious that Anna was a good girl and

  could possibly be a good friend and to wish her away, seemed quite rotten.

  But Lily did. And oh, how mean she felt.

  What a damnable bumblebroth she was in!

  She licked her lips and opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by

  Mr. Derricks. "May I mark your card, Lady Mercer?" he asked with a

  somewhat pompous and triumphant bow.

  Lily looked from the gentleman before her to the still-frowning girl who was

  looking at her with puzzlement. Even as she longed to talk with Anna, who,

  while a veritable stranger, she felt sure she could trust the younger girl and

  how wonderful it would be to be able to divulge this horrid secret to

  someone. Even as the thought passed through her mind, Lily discarded it

  and with a slight titter, nodded at the gentleman before turning to Anna.

  "Please excuse me, Miss. Sampson."

  Anna simply nodded as Lily was spun into the whirlwind of dancing with Mr.

  Derricks, but she did not fail to see the slight hurt in the other chit's eyes

  and again, felt horribly guilty for simply abandoning her in the center of a

  crowd of this size.

  As atonement, she let herself be cast as the partner to many a dance, when

  in the past she would have refused each invitation. But now that harried

  desire to escape her blackmailer, to never be alone or at unawares

  overwhelmed her once more.

  As she danced the steps to yet another waltz, Lily realized sadly how much

  she had changed.

  How necessity had formed her into a completely different person and one

  that Lily did not particularly like.

  While she had been granted permission to dance these most scandalous of

  steps, Lily had always refused to take part in this set. She had broken that

  vow firstly with the Earl and then once again, tonight. A part of her

  wondered to what depths she
would have to sink, before this arrangement

  was over. And as that thought passed through her head, she flinched. For

  she knew how low she would be descending and it would be far worse than a

  paltry waltz!

  She pondered the morose thought as she held her form and allowed her

  eyes to cast blindly about the ballroom. The heaving mass of humanity, the

  amalgamation of bright and torrid colors of the dandies and the flagrant

  matrons' attire and then the dull blacks and whites of the more somber

  ladies and gentleman, the richness of the surroundings . . . they all passed

  in a blur. When the candle flames above her head flickered as a slight breeze

  blew in through the balcony, she flinched and the desire to pull away from

  her partner's arms was great. But she managed to bear his clasp by

  concentrating on the wainscoted paneling of the cavernous room. The gilt

  edging that glittered even in the dull light of the candle flames, the cream

  walls that shone lustrously, the moldings that were formed into myriad

  shapes. From simple rosettes to shining gilt Guilloché interlaces that

  entwined the rosettes' in their embrace.

  Finally, the dance came to an end and she could, at last, cease her

  persistent staring at the Ipswich's architectural motifs! That, in and of itself,

  should have made her feel relief, but even though she was slightly out of

  breath, and that oppressive heat had once more clinched her to its bosom,

  Lily felt unbearably cold and not relieved. It was a cold that traversed the

  surface and flooded her center with ice. Indeed, she was hard-pressed not to

  shiver!

  "Are you quite well?" asked the gentleman with whom she was partnered,

  and who at the same time allowed his eyes travel down the silk-like skin of

  her throat and down over her décolletage which was she had to admit,

  scandalously visible. But then, had she not chosen to wear this dove gray

  dress with the Earl in mind?

  The thought registered at the same time as she realized that she was quite

  bored of being asked that question. Countless times over the evening had a

  myriad number of people asked her that same question and each time it had

  necessitated she lie, for she was not quite well. She was anything but!

  She was ashamed to admit, that not once had the blackmailer's insidious

  demands entered her mind as she had chosen this particular outfit. She had