Persuasion

by Owner

Nodding in agreement, Lily stuck her head out once more and grinned as

  she was blasted with fresh air. "Canter home, John. Canter home!” she

  shouted.

  Swiftly, she shut the door with a bang and felt the lurch of the carriage as

  the horses picked up speed. Her excitement kept her nausea at bay, just,

  and before it could overcome her, the horses were finally pulling to a halt

  outside the front entrance.

  Lily jumped out without the aid of a footman and spun around in a circle of

  glee. “It's marvelous to be here!” she cried out and watched as the butler,

  Carter, rushed down the stairs with a pleased smile on his face.

  “May I say, your ladyship, that it's marvelous to have you home, even if you

  didn't write to let us know you were arriving today!” he commented and with

  that, and a comical click to his heels, he snapped into order, charging the

  footman with unloading the cases and directing the coachman to the stables.

  She left Janie amongst the litter of luggage for with the butler, she would

  coordinate the moving of all Lily's possessions to her apartment in the

  house. Excitement bubbled through her and she rushed away from the

  carriage and towards the front entrance to her family home.

  Over four hundred years old, Grantlake had been the home of the Mercer

  family for that entire period. Each Marquess had, like many a familial

  property, added his own segment to the house and so, it was a melting pot

  of times and styles, from Elizabethan aspects to Georgian.

  It was a large house and almost C-shaped. Three floors high and so wide

  that if one were to walk the entire breadth of the ground floor, it could take

  one almost forty five minutes!

  As she rushed up the ten carved steps, her eyes absorbed each marvelous

  foot and with relish, she leapt through the fifteen feet high, carved wooden

  doorway and into the front hall. In the very center of the large chamber, lay

  the foot of the central arterial staircase and knowing that her mother was

  more than likely in her salon, she rushed up the carpeted stairs and turned

  to the left. After passing three doors, she opened the door without a knock

  and almost ran into the room.

  The jolting of the door being opened had her mother practically jumping out

  of her seat and upon spying her beloved visage, Lily cried out. "Mama!” she

  yelled, her face almost crumbling as the desire to cry overcame her.

  She ran over, threw herself at her mother's feet and tucked her arms around

  her mama's waist. The position was awkward and hardly comfortable but it

  felt far too good to at last be with her wonderful parent to complain.

  “Lily?” Julia Mercer asked in a slightly dazed voice.

  “Yes, mama, it is I.”

  For the first time in a very long while, Julia gurgled with laughter and freed

  herself from Lily's hold to fall to the floor and embrace her only daughter

  with a ferocity that Lily had truly mourned. Her mama had always been so

  exuberant, so energetic and to see her once more like this was a gift from

  God.

  “What are you doing here?” Julia asked as she squeezed Lily within her

  arms.

  “I had to come home, mama.”

  “Did London not suit?” Julia asked in a wry voice full of understanding. “Now

  you can understand why your father and I stayed at Grantlake for the most

  part, can't you?”

  Lily paused, surprised at her mother's blasé mentioning of her father but

  perhaps time had healed that particular wound somewhat. She hesitated

  over mentioning her papa herself and bit her lip as she pondered her next

  words. "Indeed. The air is quite revolting, mama. I hated it. I detested the

  balls and the people. They're all so mean and vicious!”

  “I know. But you understand that you had to see that for yourself, don't you,

  my sweet? I couldn't deprive you of your Season. Even though it appears

  that you have cut it quite short?”

  “Indeed, I told Aunt Millie that I was leaving last week and she was not best

  pleased.”

  “I can imagine,” came the wry reply. “Your aunt was always one for the ton.

  I could never really find a place within that kind of society. As you say,

  there's a vicious side to it and it is a side that has never appealed to me.

  Your aunt, however, has always been able to see the best in people, even

  when there was very little to be found!”

  “Yes, she has a very kind heart and I've been quite appreciative, but it was

  time for home.”

  “Is something wrong, my dear?” Julia eventually replied, having paused for a

  good two minutes at least to study her youngest child with the rapier sharp

  gaze of a mother lioness out to protect her, admittedly grown, cub.

  “No! Why, of course not!” Lily swiftly answered, desperate to keep her

  mother in such high spirits.

  “You know . . . ,” Julie murmured conversationally, her hands stroking the

  smooth locks of her daughter's hair. “I have always been able to discern

  when you are lying.”

  Lily stilled and sighed. Her mama was right, she had always known if Devlin

  or Lily were lying. Even if their papa hadn't!

  “Why are you truly come home?”

  “You don't particularly want to know, mama,” Lily promised, her voice tired.

  “If it involves my daughter, then naturally, it is of gross import to me,” she

  replied staunchly.

  “Can you ever forgive me . . . ,” Lily started, then broke off and buried her

  face against her mama's shoulder.

  “Of course, I can, but I can't tell you imperatively if I do not know what I'm

  forgiving you for, now can I?” Julia said lightly. “And, my sweet, nothing can

  be as bad as you believe it to be. After these months without your papa, I

  can attest to that.

  "I'm pregnant,” Lily whispered, her lower lip wobbling at the sordidness of

  the entire situation.

  Julia sighed. “I thought it would be something like that.”

  Pulling away, Lily stared with surprise at her mother's easy acceptance. "You

  did?”

  “Yes. You've always been a difficult child.”

  Lily scowled at her mama's swift and sure retort, but how could she deny it?

  "I wish I could argue with you about that, but I can't. I was difficult and it

  appears that little has changed,” she whispered miserably.

  “Perhaps, but all is not lost. Will the father not marry you?”

  “I-I do not know. Until today, when Janie said that I had missed my

  monthly, I was not certain.”

  “Well then, you must tell him. Write him and inform him he is to be a father.

  He is . . . a gentleman?”

  Lily nodded miserably. She stared over her mother's shoulder and looked out

  on to the pleasant environs of her mama's salon. The wall opposite her was

  painted a light duck-egg blue, it was paneled and in the center of the panel,

  rested an authentic Roman urn. Roman antiquities had always been a

  passion of Julia's and Lily's papa had indulged her. On each of the four walls,

  in the center of a gilded panel, rested an authentic object from that period.

  A small, stone deity.

  An urn.

  A large gold pendant of Hera, the Queen of the Gods a
nd wife of Zeus, that

  was framed.

  And finally, a small bust of one of the Goddesses, Persephone.

  In the center of the room was a large table, upon which lay a myriad

  selection of her mother's books, complete with messy papers and an ink

  blotter and pen, and a tea tray which had been severely depleted of biscuits

  and tea. A matching gilt and mahogany chair was perched beneath the

  table. Then, clustered around these central items of furniture, were two

  armchairs in a rich navy blue linen at opposite ends of the room, which

  looked on to the table. Before the hearth, was a settle, which her mother

  had been sitting at before Lily had accosted her.

  She stared miserably at the urn and sighed. “He is an Earl.”

  “That is something, at least,” her mama replied gently. “Is he . . . is he a

  good man?”

  “I thought he was.”

  “That is not so good. What is his name, dearest?”

  “I can't tell you mama. You'll tell Devlin and he'll ride hotfoot to London and

  challenge him. I love him, mama. I don't want him to be hurt.”

  “I'm sure you do love him, my sweet! Indeed, I doubt you would have gifted

  him with so precious a gift if you hadn't!” Julia hesitated. “Do you care to

  know a secret, darling?” At Lily's slight nod, her lips twitched slightly. "Your father and I . . . we were rather precipitous of our wedding vows. It was

  quite fortunate that Devlin . . . well, it was quite fortunate that he arrived

  later than he should have.”

  Despite her misery, laughter escaped Lily's lips. “Papa was your soul mate

  though, mama. And father had at least proposed! I have no such promise

  and, in fairness, I did not ask it of him.” Lily's smile disappeared, and, for a

  moment, she hesitated over whether or not to inform her mama of the

  reasons behind her folly and decided not to. Her mama was quite obviously

  recuperating from her grief and Lily did not want to give her another reason

  to mourn. Rather than reveal the entire truth, she settled on a kinder

  version of events. "I fell for him as he . . . he was still mourning his wife's

  death. There was a poignancy about him that struck me. I did not realize

  until later that it was not a grief for her death but for what might have been.

  She had betrayed him.”

  “They say that it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at

  all, but it is a statement I quite often ponder and question. I was quite

  fortunate. Your father was a wonderful man and not once, did he force me to

  question whether he loved me and whether I could or should trust him. But

  not many spouses are so fortunate. Perhaps, with time, he could come

  around?”

  “I am sure that he would, but there is a deadline, is there not?” she

  murmured with a cold laugh. “I cannot regret this babe, mama. I will not.”

  “I did not ask you to, my love. I am thinking. That is all.”

  “I am simply glad that you do not hate me, mama. I had feared that you

  would.”

  “How could I hate my little girl?” Julia asked quietly. “Many a mama might,

  but not this one. We have always been an odd family, always out of touch

  with the ton and I can't help but believe that is a good thing.” She sighed

  and silence reigned between them for a moment or two. The only sounds

  came from the flickering fire and ticking of the clock. “Come,” Julia

  whispered. “You need to rest. You have had a long journey, and, if your

  early days are anything as mine were, you will be in need of some sleep!”

  With a faint smile, Lily climbed to her feet and helped her mother to a

  standing position. Together, they clasped arms and walked to the opposite

  end of the house and to Lily's chambers.

  ****

  Where was she?

  Damn her hide!

  She came to him, unsure of whether or not she was pregnant, didn't have

  the decency to try and force him to legalize their union and then simply

  vanished?

  He gritted his teeth and slammed down the book he'd been reading.

  Well, he conceded, she had hardly vanished. He had a good idea where she

  was and he wasn't best pleased about having to hotfoot it to Grantlake and

  face her brother with the unpleasant truth.

  Grimacing at the thought, he shrugged his shoulders. He was no weakling,

  had no fear for Devlin's retribution, but he rather liked his nose in the

  position it was and the least he deserved was a broken appendage for

  despoiling Devlin's little sis.

  Knowing that he would have to rush after her had had him in bad spirits this

  last week. At first, he'd contemplated drink but had swiftly realized that it

  would not ease the ache that Lily had left behind. And quickly after he had

  come to that realization, he had pondered her words, assimilated their

  meaning and come to conclusions that had frustrated him all the more!

  The first task he had undertaken upon realizing that Lily had disappeared

  was to send for Hague. Together they had deduced that a recently employed

  footman by the name of Geoffrey was the likely culprit who had gifted Lily's

  blackmailer with a key to the house. And who had also enabled Lily to gain

  entrance.

  When the man had been interviewed and had broken down with guilt, he

  had confessed that William Wright had employed him to infiltrate Dorian's

  household. Not that Dorian had needed that confirmation. He'd known,

  instinctively, that this was William's work, and, had he had his wits about

  him when Lily had come to him with this news, he would have instantly put

  two and two together.

  Rather than dismissing Geoffrey, who, according to Hague, had been a good

  worker, Dorian had decided to keep him on. On pains that were anything like

  this to ever occur again, Geoffrey would be out on his hide faster than the

  speed of light! The footman had been relieved beyond word and Dorian knew

  that he had a loyal servant for life! He had thus sent him around to seek

  William and invite him around for dinner.

  Unfortunately for Dorian's temper, William had traveled up to his hunting

  box and Dorian was still impatiently waiting for him to return.

  The second had been to hire an investigator to look into William's spending

  habits . . . . He'd known that the way to hurt William was through his pocket

  and Dorian had not been wrong.

  He knew damned well that he had to find Lily, that he had to make her his

  wife and legalize the child she could very well be carrying, but he also knew

  that there was a score to settle with William, if not with fists, then simply so

  that he could understand.

  William had always been jealous. Not a moment had passed throughout the

  duration of their lives, when Will hadn't been envious of something that

  Dorian had. It had only worsened, when he'd inherited the title and William

  had become his heir.

  Why he hadn't remembered that, William's bitterness, when his cousin had

  been slandering Lily, Dorian didn't know. It infuriated him that his mind had

  been quite willing to allow William to defame Lily and that he'd simply

  accepted it angered him all the more.

  Why hadn't he defended her? Why had he believ
ed the nonsense that

  William had been spouting? When he knew for a fact that it was William with

  whom Camille had betrayed him?

  Staring into the fire, Dorian sighed heavily. He had spent an angry few days

  stomping around and it had only worsened as he'd had Geoffrey on the

  prowl for William's whereabouts. When ultimately, his cousin had been

  'found', it had soothed his temper somewhat.

  The only thing that had remained was to ascertain how William would be

  punished.

  Dorian had pondered the prospect and had finally discovered the best way to

  rid the world, well if not the world, the country of William's presence and he

  was glad to have come to the right conclusion. While he would have loved to

  kill the bastard, his morals would not allow him. The punishment he had

  thought up was quite befitting and the end result rested on William's own

  shoulders.

  He smirked into the flames then stalked over to the drinks table. He poured

  a short glass of ratafia and sunk it back. It tasted foul, but then, so did the

  majority of liqueurs upon this table! It did the job though. Sent fire shooting

  through his belly and with the upcoming . . . argument with William, it

  merely spurned him on.

  Dorian retreated to an armchair and sat there to wait for his cousin to finally

  appear. It was a moment he was most looking forward to, indeed had been

  playing out the scene in his mind for the last few days.

  It would be with relish that he destroyed William's life, the same relish that

  William would have felt when he had attempted to do the same with

  Dorian's.

  It was a shame, but he could almost forgive William for his blunder with

  Camille but not with Lily.

  A part of him wondered why and then another part, demanded that he never

  question it. That it simply was. And that was that.

  It had not taken much for her to get through to him, for her to penetrate his

  walls, his shields. And when she had walked into his office, he had worked

  so hard to remain calm and to swat away her words, a part of him wanting

  to believe William's word regardless of his cousin's earlier betrayal. For the

  most part, William had succeeded and then Dorian had seen her fall. A slight

  stumble and that was it.

  His heart had leapt into his chest and he'd known that even if William had

  been speaking the truth, she loved him. His belief had only been confirmed,