“If only I could think of a witty retort, but my mind always seems to go blank when confronted with such comments.”
“Pay no notice to anything she says. She only acts so rudely because she envies you.”
Lillian sighed. “I was hoping no one would care that we invited the duchess for tea.”
“You must be jesting,” Julia said. “Gossip spreads through the ton quicker than fire on a thatched roof.” She shook her head. “As I said, ignore those ladies. Your heart was in the right place when you invited the duchess to tea. She seemed to thoroughly enjoy herself, as did I.”
“That is all that matters.” She believed her words, but that didn’t eliminate her uncertainty.
“Exactly.” Julia gave her hand one last squeeze before releasing it. “I, for one, am proud of you for reaching out to her. She is a delightful person.”
What Julia said was true. The logical part of Lillian’s mind knew that, but her heart wouldn’t acknowledge it.
Lillian couldn’t help but look down at her gown, wondering if it looked out-of-date. Perhaps the color was less than flattering after all.
“Your gown is lovely, and so are you.” Julia smiled. “Truly.”
“You’re certain? Or are you just being kind?” She tended to dismiss compliments. Her mother thought people didn’t really mean them.
“Lillian.” Julia said nothing more until Lillian met her eyes. “Surely you know that while I am usually kind, I am also honest. If I thought anything was amiss with you or your attire, I would’ve mentioned it before we left home.”
“Yes, you would’ve. Which is one of the many reasons I adore you.” Lillian berated herself, uncertain why she struggled so much with doubt. She considered herself a confident person who made friends easily and was comfortable in most situations. She enjoyed people. But she could more easily list her flaws than her positive traits.
She drew a breath and lifted her chin, determined to put the unpleasant conversation behind her. After dancing several times, she returned to Oliver and Julia.
A tingle of awareness fluttered along her spine. Turning to find the cause, she saw Elijah making his way toward her. The tingle turned into sparkles.
But along with the sparkles came nerves. She glanced about, unable not to, finding many watching and whispering. The sparkles turned prickly and brought heat to her cheeks.
What did it matter if people were talking about her? Some might think poorly of her, but not all did. Some were probably merely curious as to who had caught the duke’s notice.
Yet none of those thoughts eased her nerves. Nausea swirled in her stomach. Though she knew Elijah watched her, she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze.
Who was she to keep the interest of the most eligible bachelor in all of London? While she’d come to the city with just that purpose in mind, now that it might mean something real, her confidence had fled.
“Good evening.” The deep timbre of Elijah’s voice weakened her knees.
Her curtsy was less than graceful as she faltered. Already her mother’s voice berated her in her mind. Doubt choked her, and she had to clear her throat to manage to return his greeting. “Good evening.”
He reached for her gloved hand and raised it to brush his lips on her knuckles. Still, she couldn’t meet his gaze.
Just past his arm, Margaret watched as well, a knowing smirk on her face. Lillian closed her eyes briefly, yet the image of the smirk remained. Envy would’ve been bearable, but that expression only stirred her insecurities.
“Would you do me the honor of a dance?” Elijah asked.
Lillian jerked her eyes to meet Elijah’s at last. His handsome features suddenly seemed unfamiliar, and she couldn’t breathe. She’d never felt more like a fraud. She belonged in the country, not in London at a ball with a man like him.
“I-I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” Fearing she might be sick, she turned and rushed toward the terrace, winding her way quickly through the staring crowd, anxious to escape.
The fresh evening air helped cool her cheeks, but fear danced in her belly. She couldn’t talk to anyone right now, let alone Elijah. He’d want answers for her behavior, and she had none.
“Lillian.” His voice brought a lump to her throat when she realized he’d followed her outside.
She turned slowly to face him. “My apologies, your grace.”
“What’s wrong? Are you unwell?” His expression of concern only made her feel worse.
“I need some time. I can’t deal with all of...this.” She waved her hand toward the ballroom. “Please. Give me time.” Unable to explain further without tears overwhelming her, she hurried through the garden, wanting only to return home.
~*~
Confused, worried, and hurt, Elijah watched Lillian’s pale gown disappear into the night. Though he wanted to follow, he feared she’d only run faster.
He didn’t understand what had just happened. Give her time for what? Was this a continuation of the conversation they’d had at the garden party? Or had something else occurred?
Surely this wasn’t some sort of game she played to seek revenge for the wrongdoing she believed he’d done with her friend. Was it?
Yet he couldn’t help but run the last two weeks through his mind. She’d seemed pleased enough to interact with him until he’d shown interest in her publicly.
“Where is Lillian?”
Elijah turned at Frost’s question, his wife at his side. “I think she intends to return home, though I cannot say for certain,” he told them.
“She was upset earlier, but I thought she was feeling better,” the viscountess said.
Frost’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Elijah, his suspicion unmistakable. “You’re certain you aren’t the cause of her upset?”
“I’m not certain of anything at the moment.” Elijah shook his head. “She said she needs time.”
“I’ll go after her,” Viscountess Frost said.
“I will come with you.” Frost took his wife’s hand then turned back to Elijah. “You’d best hope this isn’t your doing.”
Elijah heard the warning in his voice. Knowing Frost, he wouldn’t have expected anything less. “Please give her my regards and let her know I’d like to speak to her when she’s ready.”
He watched the pair follow Lillian’s path through the garden toward the front entrance, hoping she was well, that it hadn’t been anything he’d said or done that had made her so unhappy. His chest ached at the pain in her expression.
Though tempted to leave as well, that would only set more tongues wagging. Bracing himself, he returned to the ballroom, though the party had lost all appeal. The number of people who turned to look at him as he stepped through the door made him realize anew of what Lillian spoke.
He didn’t care for the attention either. But having her to seek out had eased that concern. Apparently, she didn’t find the same comfort in his presence.
The hurt he felt at that truth made the stares more difficult to endure. But he was the Duke of Burbridge, and appearances had to be maintained. Keeping his mask in place and Lillian in his thoughts, he searched the crowd for someone with whom he wouldn’t mind speaking.
“Good evening, your grace.”
Lady Margaret dipped into a curtsy then offered her hand.
He bowed and took her offering, holding it only a moment before releasing it. At her frown, he held back his irritation. Had she expected him to kiss it? That gesture was reserved for those for whom he cared, including Lillian and his mother. He’d known Lady Margaret for several years but had found little to admire.
“I recently had the most delightful conversation with the duchess.”
“Oh?”
He loved his mother dearly, but when anyone other than Lillian described anything about her as delightful, he worried. She wasn’t at this evening’s gathering. Had Margaret spoken to her when she’d decided to over-imbibe in drink? That would be the believable reason she’d been “delightful.�
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“She’s a true gem.” Lady Margaret offered him a beaming smile.
“She is indeed.” He perused the crowd, uncertain of the purpose of this conversation.
“I would love to have her for tea.”
Elijah’s attention returned to Margaret. Though tempted to ask how she felt about imitating Lillian, he kept his thoughts to himself.
Rather than answering, he nodded then excused himself, not asking her to dance as he had no desire to encourage the lady.
Women. He didn’t understand any of them. Perhaps it would be better if he focused on his goal of dealing with Hurley and his bad alcohol than worrying over the women in his life.
Chapter Twenty
“It [foxglove] is a poison and is used on account of the bitter and intoxicating qualities it imparts to the liquor among which it is mixed.”
~The Seven Curses of London
Lillian remained in her room as long as possible the next morning, unwilling to endure the questioning looks her brother and Julia would surely give her. The same looks they’d given her upon their return home the previous evening. She’d managed to avoid answering their questions but knew they were concerned. They deserved an explanation.
How could she begin to share how she felt? Her doubt made little sense. After all, she was the daughter of an earl. She’d been groomed to make a good match. She didn’t know from where the insecurities came. Nor could she place the blame entirely with her mother when many of her comments were meant to improve her behavior or appearance. Wasn’t that a mother’s duty?
She had many blessings for which to be grateful. But those very things were part of her doubt. They had little bearing on who she was as a person. Just because she was an earl’s daughter didn’t mean she was better able to do anything, including serving as the wife of a duke. She was just...Lillian. No one special.
She rose to pace to the window. Heavens, she couldn’t explain her feelings to herself. How could she explain them to anyone else?
She, Lillian Bartley, was a young lady who’d spent most of her life in the country. She’d travelled a little with her aunt, had a perfectly acceptable level of education from a governess, was the youngest in her family, and...
That was it. That was all there was to her. She was generally considered kind and was pleasant enough to look at, she supposed.
But that was all. She was no great beauty. She had no amazing life experiences. She didn’t have keen intelligence. She was no one of note.
No one.
The voice in her head refused to describe her as anything else.
She’d developed the habit of comparing herself to others at a young age. And that comparison always left her wanting. She supposed it had started at eight or nine years of age when her older cousin, Alice, had come to visit. She’d walked through Lillian’s room, pointing out flaws in a backhanded way.
“I simply adore your room. How unfortunate it’s so small.”
“That is a pretty dress, even though it has such a high waist.”
“Your hair is lovely. Too bad it has so much red in it.”
By the end of that month, Alice had colored the way Lillian thought of herself and her life. She’d noted each ribbon that had come untied, every strand of hair out of place, even Lillian’s pony had left much to be desired, according to Alice.
Lillian’s efforts to quiet the doubt in her mind after Alice’s visit had been thwarted by her mother, who tended to point out what was wrong rather than what was right.
Becoming friends with Helena had been of great help in quieting her inner critical voice. She and Helena had bolstered each other’s confidence.
When Helena had died, she’d not only lost a dear friend, she’d lost the person who helped give her balance. And Lillian hadn’t been there when Helena needed her most. She didn’t know if she could forgive herself for that.
Helen’s passing had given room for doubts to rise once again. When life was going well, it was easy to ignore, or at least downplay, the critical voice in her mind. But in times of stress, it reared its ugly cadence of flaws more than ever.
The attention she’d received because of Elijah had been more worrisome than she’d anticipated, causing her to overreact to Lady Margaret’s remarks the previous evening.
She put her hands to her hot cheeks as she stared out her window overlooking the garden. What must he think of her now? He’d most likely returned to the ball and danced with Lady Marg—
With a quiet oath, she spun away to pace the length of the room. There that voice was again, suggesting the worst.
Expecting the worst.
What had her aunt always said? If you look under rocks, you’ll surely find bugs. That’s what she was doing.
A day or two away from the madness of the Season would give her some objectivity to decide what she wanted and clarify her priorities.
Remaining in her room was solving nothing. She rang for her maid, dressed, and ventured downstairs in search of Julia. She looked away from the small table in the foyer where any invitations that had arrived would be waiting.
Julia was in the drawing room, sitting near the window reading. “Good morning, Lillian.”
Lillian studied her welcoming expression but found nothing other than the love she’d shown her since they’d first been introduced over a year ago.
“I would like to apologize for my behavior last evening,” Lillian began as she stood before Julia, hands clasped.
Julia set aside her book and rose. “There’s no need for an apology.”
“Of course, there is. You and Oliver had to leave the party early because of me.”
“Nonsense. I’m certain we didn’t miss a thing. You know your brother was pleased to leave when we did. Are you feeling better?”
“I don’t know yet,” Lillian admitted.
“Sit with me.” Julia gestured to the settee and settled beside her. “Did that silly woman’s comments bother you that much?”
“I suppose you could say they heightened what I was already feeling.”
“Your thoughts are spinning because of Burbridge?” The sympathy in Julia’s expression caused Lillian to blink back tears.
“Yes. Quite.”
“I thought you liked him.”
“I do. But being a duchess...” The thought gave her a little shiver. “I don’t know if I’m the right person for such a role.”
Julia nodded. “I can see why it might be intimidating when you look at the duchess and her many charities and activities. From a distance, she appears to move through her duties effortlessly. But each person brings their own variation to such a role. Beneath all that, you’re still the same person you were without the title.”
Lillian considered her words, hoping they’d help to ease the tight band around her chest.
“You are a wonderful person, Lillian. Each day, we choose how to act and what to say and how to spend our time and with whom we spend it. And each time, you choose to act with kindness and integrity. That is more than can be said for most.”
Lillian held Julia’s gaze. “I suppose I think I should be more than what I am.”
“We all think that at one time or another, especially as we grow older. You’re no longer simply a daughter but an individual with her own thoughts and opinions. Change is rarely comfortable.”
“That is true.”
“I don’t know how much I’ve told you about my mother and father’s relationship,” Julia began. “But suffice it to say that I did everything in my power to try to make my father happy after my mother’s death. My brother was away at university or traveling abroad with friends. That left my father’s wellbeing up to me. I wanted him to live as he was all I had left. Not just exist but to enjoy life. It took your brother entering my world to make me see that I didn’t need to become someone else to make him happy. That choice was up to him, not me. Sharing that burden with Oliver changed not only my world but my father’s. And I hope Oliver’s as well. Sometimes we mu
st trust in fate but even more so in ourselves. We are enough.”
Lillian smiled, remembering how Julia had her say that a short while ago. “How could I have forgotten so quickly? I am enough.”
“Exactly. It truly is that simple. Acting a certain way does no good if it’s not in alignment with who you are inside.” She reached out to tap Lillian’s heart. “You are unique and deserving of amazing things in your life, including love. Don’t allow anyone to tell you anything different, especially the voice in your head.” She tapped her temple. “I know because I have one too.”
“You are very wise, Julia.” Lillian leaned forward to hug her. “I am so lucky you married my brother.” She eased back, studying Julia. “You saved him, too.”
“He chose a different path after we met, much as I did. I’m so grateful our paths merged into one.”
It relieved Lillian to think that she wasn’t the only person who held doubts about her life.
The question was how did she silence those doubts? How did she move forward from here? If Julia had, Lillian hoped she could as well.
~*~
Elijah galloped his steed hard along Rotten Row, ignoring the others riding, wishing he could as easily leave behind the hurt that had filled him at the sight of Lillian rushing away the previous evening. He hadn’t realized just how much he was coming to care for her until she’d turned away from him.
An ache settled in his chest that he hadn’t expected. Nor could it be ignored. Not yet.
Wasn’t it better he learned she didn’t care for him as much as he’d thought now rather than later? This gave him the chance to walk away from her. How many times had he told himself he had enough to worry over between his new responsibilities and his mother?
He didn’t want a wife, nor did he need one. Eventually, of course. But so many other concerns needed to be addressed before things such as personal happiness—should he be fortunate enough to find such an elusive thing.
Yet the more he tried not to think of Lillian, the more he did. Part of him wanted to march over to Frost’s and insist on speaking with her. To kiss her until she admitted how she felt about him and realized the feelings they shared could overcome any obstacle.
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