At least, that had been the plan he’d formed in his liquor-soaked brain. This morning, however, that brilliant brain of his had formed factions—half armed with lances of fire and half with shards of ice. Thoughts were difficult to pinpoint in the ensuing melee.
Jack remembered bits and pieces of last night: a strange conversation with Dovermere, wanting to kill Ellery, and seeing Lilah’s face in the moonlight. Her bed-curtain lashes had closed as he’d held her in his arms. Then, they’d sprung open in shock when Juliet had entered the room to find them alone.
Jack pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. Even though he was not a drinker by nature, he still knew how to hold his liquor. But perhaps he shouldn’t have attempted to hold so much of it. “Think of it this way—now that you have done a favor for Juliet, she owes you a favor in return. This might be the favor that ensures Wolford’s victory.”
“Ha! Have you even bothered to read this morning’s Standard? The column states that Miss Appleton is one to follow. With the end of the month at hand, Wolford’s refusal to be shepherded, and the Original sure to be announced, I have little hope of being the victor.”
Jack would have shrugged, but he discovered that sitting perfectly still at his desk while carefully holding his face in his hands was the only thing keeping him from becoming ill. “If you leave now, I will make sure that Wolford attends whatever event you have scheduled for this evening.”
“Why do you think you’ll be able when I have failed?”
“Because Wolford would find it amusing if I went with him.”
“Hmm . . . ” Thayne’s pacing steps halted near the corner of Jack’s desk. “After last night, if there is one person who can make Wolford look good by comparison, it is you.”
With Aunt Zinnia visiting Mrs. Harwick, and with Juliet at her solicitor’s office, Lilah indulged in a moment of solitude. She played the harp, allowed Nellie to experiment with her hair, and then strolled into the garden to check her azaleas. The buds were the size of her thumb, a beautiful dark-rose color. They would start to bloom any day now. She hoped when they did, she could tell Jack about them. Or perhaps he would come to see her.
Distracted by this happy thought, she entered the townhouse through the garden door and paid no attention to the sound of knocking down the hall until Mr. Wick opened the front door, and in stepped a familiar face.
Then, before Lilah could even say Ivy’s name, the Duchess of Vale rushed through the foyer, down the hall, and embraced her. Lilah hugged her back, more than delighted by the surprise. “Ivy, when did you return?”
“Only this morning. North is seeing that his aunt is settled, and I—well, I could not wait to see you.” Ivy beamed, her winter-blue eyes shining gaily.
“You have always been impulsive.” Lilah laughed. Her dearest friend couldn’t have returned at a better time. Right now, she needed some advice. “I thought becoming a duchess might have cured you of it.”
“Never,” Ivy said with feigned severity before she laughed as well. “Thankfully, North understands my nature. Sometimes he is rather impulsive too.”
Together, they walked back toward the parlor. On the way, Ivy untied her hat, revealing a twist of white-blonde hair, before leaving her hat and gloves on the foyer table. After asking Myrtle to bring a tea tray, they stepped into the parlor.
“I have heard that you are taking the ton by storm,” Ivy said. “How could I have stayed away for an instant longer?”
“Since when do you believe overblown rumors?” Lilah shooed her friend with a wave of her fingers toward the settee. “As you see, I am still very much as I always was.”
“No. That is not true at all. You are much changed, and I am not merely speaking of your appearance. Granted, I am surprised. I recall many mentions of a ‘vast forehead,’ and yet all I see is a lovely expanse of creamy skin. You have a heart-shaped face, Lilah. I have known you all my life. How could I not have noticed this?”
“I took great care to conceal it.” Until recently, she’d never had the courage to try anything different. She was already growing accustomed to it. Sometimes when she looked in the mirror, she even forgot what she’d looked like before.
“Yes, I recall your creative fringes over the years and constant wearing of bonnets. I also remember, quite clearly, what your mother would say. Yet in all the years I had asked you to experiment with a new style, you refused.”
Ivy’s speculative frown forced Lilah to explain the truth. In the next few minutes, she summed up the bargain between Juliet and the Marquess of Thayne and the reasons for inserting herself into their conflict.
Ivy reached across the settee and squeezed Lilah’s hand, a poignant smile on her lips. “You were always the bravest person I knew.”
Instantly, Lilah dismissed the claim. “Brave? You were the one forever finding yourself in danger.”
“And how dangerous was coming home with a dirty pinafore when the worst I had to bear from my mother and father was a tsk and a kiss on my forehead?” She shook her head. “It was nothing compared with what you and Jasper faced each day. That is what made you brave. You never ran away, although I remember encouraging a gypsy tour at one time or another.”
Lilah gave a watery laugh, only now realizing the tears clogging her throat. She sniffed. “I believe you packed a satchel for me each summer for nearly five years.”
“Very true,” Ivy agreed. “But I must say that there is something else about you as well. You have a certain confidence about you. Your cheeks have color and your mouth . . . This is strange to admit, but I do not think I ever noticed it before. Have your lips always been so red and plump?”
Lilah felt her cheeks flush with warmth.
Ivy sat forward, making Lilah wonder if she could see too much. “And now you are blushing, and my curiosity is piqued. Could it be that you have fallen in love?”
“Ivy, you are completely incorrigible,” Lilah said on a breath. “How could I possibly be in love with someone when the Season has only just begun?”
“It took less than a week for me to fall in love. Less than a minute, actually.” For years, Ivy had been in love with Jasper, but after he’d broken her heart, she’d abandoned any idea of love. At least, until she’d met the Duke of Vale this past Christmas, and his Marriage Formula had brought them together.
“Yes, but you had the Marriage Formula to aid you.”
Ivy glanced away. “Well . . . not entirely.”
“What do you mean?” Lilah asked, grateful for the change in conversation.
“Tut tut.” Ivy waggled her finger. “Now is not the time for that. Instead, I want to hear about the man who has stolen your heart and brought such color to your cheeks.”
She should have known better. Ivy was rather tenacious when she wanted to be.
Lilah glanced toward the open door to make sure Myrtle hadn’t returned with the tea tray yet. “I’m not entirely sure he has stolen my heart.”
Ivy pivoted toward her, eagerness in her wide grin. “So it is that you are in love—or at least think you might be. I knew it. You have a glow about you that I have never seen.”
“Perhaps you are seeing the effects of cleverly applied cosmetics. Juliet knows many secrets of beauty.”
“I have no doubt of it, but no. I am not going to be dissuaded. I have heard rumors that a certain gentleman has shown you favor. Tell me, are you in love with Viscount Ellery?”
“Ellery?” Lilah balked. “I do not know him well enough. He has come to call here three times, and once, we went on a carriage ride with the elder two daughters of the Earl of Dovermere. We spoke of Surrey but nothing of consequence.”
Ivy frowned and tilted her head in puzzlement. “I’ve read only one name from your letters. If it is not Ellery, then who could it be? What is his title?”
Lilah drew in a breath. She would never think of admitting this aloud to any other person, but Ivy was the only person who might understand. And the only person who could guide
her in what to do from here. “Jack does not have a title.”
“Oh, Jack, is it? You are using his Christian name?” Ivy lifted a pale brow. “It must be quite serious.”
Lilah didn’t want to go into depth about their kisses or their meeting in the Serenity Room. Therefore, she censored her response. “Not too serious. After all, without a title, we cannot marry.”
Ivy’s mouth dropped open for an instant before she collected herself and then grinned madly. “You have thought of marrying him?”
Lilah gulped. Those were only passing thoughts, simple wishes that, if she had the power to choose her own fate, she would want a man just like him. Or not another man like him, but him. Only him. As the realization dawned, she slowly nodded. “But it would be foolish—disastrous, even—to fall in love with him.”
“My dear,” Ivy began, her face a mask of severity hiding the smallest of grins, “I would wager that you already are.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
That evening, Lilah attended a soiree hosted by Baron Tillmanshire. The estate was a sprawling structure of fawn-colored stone, Palladian windows, and a grand centered portico, complete with tall, tapered columns. There were also colorful banners waving from the top of the pediments above each of the main floor windows. Knowing that the baron was Miss Ashbury’s father, Lilah wouldn’t have been surprised to see tassels on the end of each banner as well.
Inside, the same odd touches appeared on the statues that lined the marble entry hall. The nymphs were each adored with a swathe of brightly colored silk, as if they had been dressed for the party. Neither Juliet nor Lilah made a comment. Aunt Zinnia, however, offered a sniff of reproof. There was nothing she hated more than a lack of form and subtlety.
“New money,” she said under her breath, casting a scathing glance at the line of footmen dressed in pink satin livery. “Tillmanshire certainly has been busy since he purchased his title last year. It is a shame he did not purchase a little decorum. Otherwise, he might have greeted us by now.”
Before the baron bought the estate, it had been empty for three years after Viscount Howe had died penniless and without an heir. Much would have been the same for Lilah’s home in Surrey, if not for the estate having been entailed. Then again, with Winthrop left in charge, a dire fate might still befall her home, as well as Lilah. Unless she was named the Original.
Fortunately, the matrimonial rumors tying her to Winthrop had died down. Yet she was still worried they would rise once more. If more people learned of the codicil in her father’s will, she would have no chance of marrying anyone else. Breaking a betrothal would cause a scandal for anyone involved. What she needed to do was to either find a man who wasn’t afraid of a scandal or one who was fond enough of her to risk it.
As if her heart were in perfect synchronization with her wishes, she suddenly conjured a vision of Jack, standing near the doors leading out to Tillmanshire’s terrace. In her vivid imagination, he wore a pewter brushed coat that matched the fading light from the sky behind him, and his gaze held the warm glow of the wall sconces.
“I had not heard that Mr. Marlowe was invited this evening,” Juliet said, her tone clipped with censure. “One must wonder why he has made so many recent appearances when it was obvious at the earl’s dinner that he was not bred for our society.”
Lilah’s heart quickened in a rapid pizzicato of he is here, he is here. Realizing that he was not simply the yearning of her imagination, she blinked, staring at him with fresh, eager eyes. The last time she’d seen him, he was slipping out of a window and down to the ground. She was glad that he did not appear hurt in any way. In fact, he looked quite dashing.
“Perhaps he means to reconcile with his father,” Lilah said in his defense.
“I do not believe the earl is here this evening,” Aunt Zinnia commented absently as she led their small party toward a gathering of servants pouring tea and wine. “However, Thayne, Wolford, and Vale are all present. So it seems likely that he would have come for them. Does his presence bother you, Juliet?”
“Of course not.” Juliet smiled politely, but her jaw clenched. “I’m merely concerned for Lilah’s sake. The ton is still brimming with eagerness to see where he will turn up next. As you know, I would prefer that all the eagerness were reserved for my cousin.”
Lilah did not miss the way Juliet said turn up, as if Jack’s appearance was akin to something buried rising from the earth after a heavy rain. “I’m certain Aunt Zinnia is right, and he is here with his friends. I, for one, am more disturbed by Wolford’s appearance and what that could mean for next week’s announcement in the Standard.”
Just past Jack’s shoulder, Wolford stood within a crowd of fawning debutantes and matrons, the cluster of them giggling at whatever he might have said. In this gathering, his was likely one of the oldest titles. That alone earned respectability, despite his reputation.
Juliet’s attention abruptly shifted, as Lilah hoped it would. Unfortunately, Thayne chose that moment to step into their line of sight.
He bowed to Aunt Zinnia. “Lady Cosgrove, you are lovely this evening, as always. My mother is near the fountain, talking with the Dowager Duchess of Vale and asked if I would escort you to them.”
“I am immune to flattery, young man, but I accept your offer.” She tsked at him but with a grin. Then she took his proffered elbow and walked gracefully toward the open doors and stairs leading out on to the terrace, leaving her tea behind.
During the exchange, Thayne had acknowledged neither Juliet nor Lilah.
Knowing the reason, Lilah looked down into her cup. “I am sorry about last night.”
“I don’t blame you,” Juliet began. “And I don’t suppose that I truly blame Mr. Marlowe either. It was clear he was in his cups and not thinking of the ramifications. After mulling it over, the sincerity that I witnessed in his expression was enough to persuade me. And the fact that he is here today shows that he is not one to cower or allow you to endure any criticisms alone. Though, thankfully, only four of us are aware of what transpired.” She paused to take a breath. “However, as irrational as it may sound, I wish I could blame Max.”
“I’m sure he didn’t mean to slight us just now.” Lilah believed ignoring them was likely his way of displaying disapproval toward her and not Juliet.
“Oh yes, he did. Hateful man,” she hissed, turning around so that Thayne’s retreating figure was to her back. “I firmly believe that—oh, no.”
The horror in Juliet’s tone startled Lilah enough that she looked up and quickly spotted the source of it. Walking through the front door at the far end of the entry hall was none other than Cousin Winthrop. Even from the distance of thirty feet away, Lilah could see his smarmy, superior grin and glistening, greasy pate. “I hadn’t thought he was acquainted with Tillmanshire.”
Otherwise, she would not have risked an encounter with him by attending.
“They are too new to society and likely do not realize that not everyone deserves an invitation,” Juliet said. “And I had just wondered to myself if this night could get any worse.”
Lilah shook her head, a dark frisson of fear cascading down her at Juliet’s words.
“Worry does not like to be tempted,” she whispered. Already, she hadn’t wanted to attend this party because of Miss Ashbury’s presence here. Unfortunately, Aunt Zinnia had already made arrangements with the Dowager Duchess of Vale and Mrs. Harwick to view the fireworks that Tillmanshire had promised for the evening. Lilah, on the other hand, was not overly fond of loud, booming noises. For good reason.
Together, they deposited their teacups and turned to follow Aunt Zinnia out of doors, a few paces behind. Jack was still near the archway. His hard gaze settled on a figure walking down the hall behind them.
When they neared, he bowed. “Lady Granworth. Miss Appleton. I was wondering if you would permit me the pleasure of escorting you both to the terrace.”
“Yes,” Lilah said without hesitation and linked her arm with his. Juli
et, however, hesitated and eyed her shrewdly until Lilah added, “I was only thinking to avoid Winthrop.”
“In that case . . . Mr. Marlowe, we would appreciate your escort.” Juliet took Jack’s other arm. Once they were a distance away, halfway to the fountain, they stopped. “Are we mending fences, Mr. Marlowe?”
He grinned at her. “We are making an attempt.”
“Very well, then,” Juliet said, reluctance lacing her tone. “However, I would prefer if we did not tempt the gossips. I fear that I will not be the only one to notice how you have chosen a limited number of young women to favor with your attention at your few society appearances.”
When Lilah saw Winthrop step onto the terrace and look in her direction, her hand tightened on Jack’s arm. “Juliet, I would feel easier if Mr. Marlowe were near.”
Beneath the sleeve of his superfine coat, his muscles hardened. And beside her, he was a solid source of comfort. “I would prefer to linger as well. After all, I have spoken with Haggerty at length, and I would not want to leave either of you unguarded in his presence.”
If Lilah had not loved him before this moment, she would have fallen in love with him now. No matter how brave she might have been, she felt better knowing that she didn’t have to be. Her poor heart, however, lay irrevocably in the hands of a man she could not marry.
Juliet looked from Jack to Lilah, her gaze sharper, knowing. Then she closed her eyes briefly before looking away. “The only way to avoid an inappropriate association would be if we were in the company of Thayne, Wolford, Vale, and Ivy as well.”
For Lilah’s sake, she approved of having all those dearest to her gathered close. There was no telling what horrors that Winthrop’s vicious tongue might unleash. Coupling that with Miss Ashbury, who clearly did not like her, Lilah wondered what disaster might unfold.
The Debutante Is Mine Page 16
