Nobody's Lady

by Annabelle Anders

  As she spoke, Michael felt his eyes begin to sting.

  “He came to my bed, after I was asleep, but not in a loving way, not in a way…and he did things so I could not have a child…He…said he’d rather die without an heir than for a whore—there was nothing I could do! My father was ill, and there was my mother…and Glenda…” The tremors running through her grew stronger. She ducked her head away from him, as though filled with shame.

  Because of him…

  Because he’d not come for her…

  And he’d blamed her…

  It could have been an hour. It could have been a minute. Guilt and shock stole even his sense of time upon realizing what she’d gone through.

  After what felt like a lifetime of silence, Lilly squirmed and pushed him away.

  His arms dropped listlessly.

  “It is useless to visit this, Michael. I am unharmed. It happened. It is done.” When she raised her eyes, they held resignation. There were no words to soothe her. Nothing he did now could change the past.

  “I am alive, and he is dead,” she persisted. “And I am free. Free to live a peaceful existence with my aunt. It will be so much better than…before…I will appreciate it greatly. We will do simple things: shop, go to garden parties, and perhaps even travel to the continent. She has given me carte blanche over her garden. I shall be content. You need not feel guilty, nor pity me, Michael. Please, leave me alone…Go to your fiancée. She is a lovely woman and probably wondering where you are this very moment.”

  Of course, she was right. Her words made sense, even though his mind had not ceased echoing her words.

  He invaded my bed, after I was asleep, but not in a loving way.

  He did things so that I would not have a child.

  There was nothing I could do!

  Hatred toward Baron Beauchamp was only eclipsed by the loathing he felt for himself.

  What a selfish cad! What a goddamned bastard he had been! So utterly irresponsible and selfish. He’d only considered his own pain at the time. He’d only considered what he had perceived to be her betrayal.

  No wonder her smile was brittle. Michael had taken her innocence, and then that damned husband of hers had taken everything else.

  What else had he done? He had to ask her, in case he had been informed incorrectly.

  “You were not with child? You never carried my child…?” Sitting back on his heels, he implored her. How self-absorbed he was! He should not have left the matter of ascertaining her childlessness to somebody else. He should have gone to her himself! He’d made love to her! He’d promised her they would be together forever. He’d given up too easily, far too easily.

  “No, Michael.” She shook her head. “There were times I had foolishly wished…but thank God, I was not.” An even more poignant sadness settled into her eyes, and she looked at her hands. “I was not.”

  The unresolved issues from their affair were violent and messy. Seeing her, talking to her, touching her was akin to reopening a wound he hadn’t realized was festering. It was painful but, perhaps, necessary.

  And then Lilly straightened her spine. Her eyes implored him. “When we were together at the waterfall…so many times I have returned there in my mind. My mother warned me about men, you see, that they would say anything…What I’m trying to say, to ask, was it…was I…When I couldn’t believe any longer that it had been about love and…” And then, “Michael, I have felt so ashamed of what I did. If it had not been love, then what was it?” Lilly covered her face with her hands. “Just tell me, even if you must lie, tell me it was more than that. I have spent years berating myself—”

  Her torrent of words stopped when Michael tore her hands away from her face. In fevered desperation, his mouth sought hers almost violently.

  She let out a cry and entwined her arms around his neck.

  In less than a moment, the years fell away.

  She was his dream, his soulmate, his past, his future.

  She was his everything.

  He trailed his mouth along her jaw to the tender skin behind her ear. As he did so, she tilted her head back and a choked sob escaped her.

  It was only a moment, a moment of madness, but he couldn’t help himself. She was a lifeline, an oasis, a portal to joy.

  He was not a free man.

  Gasping, hating himself, Michael tore himself away from her.

  “Good God, what the hell am I doing? Have I no honor? No control? Haven’t I caused enough pain?” He couldn’t look at her as he knelt there, once again aware of the distant laughter and music floating across the grass. And then, like a man who’d had far too much to drink, he clumsily pulled her to her feet. As she stood, there was a tearing sound. One foot was still on the hem of her dress, and it ripped partially when she rose. “Oh hell!”

  He assured himself that she was steady and then took one, two, three steps away.

  Ignoring the lace which had detached from her gown, Lilly lifted her dress and fled as though the hounds of hell chased her. Barely able to comprehend his own actions, he watched her disappear.

  This was madness!

  Anybody could have come across them! Jilting his fiancée was not an option. An honorable man did not break off his engagement! There was far too much at stake!

  For nearly a decade he had done all he could to uphold the honor and integrity of his father’s and brother’s legacy. Was it all to be for naught?

  Furthermore, the political alliance he’d been so carefully building could fall apart. If the amendment failed, it was likely the current laws would remain and England would be that much closer to revolt.

  He must get himself back into that ballroom by Lady Natalie’s side, and he must not allow his baser instincts to get the better of him again. He could not think about Lilly now. They must set the past to rest once and for all.

  It was the Duke of Cortland who smoothed the creases on his pants and brushed his hair back before turning to walk toward the ballroom. He would enter via the terrace. Alone.

  Glancing at his hand, he realized it was shaking. A tremor ran through him.

  What must Lilly have endured all those years, married to a man who resented her, or even worse, hated her and considered her unworthy of respect? Why had he not considered the possibility of this? The duke pushed these thoughts out of his mind.

  It would be time for the supper dance. He strode purposefully back into the ballroom.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Michael’s Evil Fiancée

  Upon Michael’s words, Lilly took one look at his face and an icy cold swept through her. He’d come to his senses and already regretted holding her. She did not want to hear him apologize again. She could not bear to hear it.

  And so she fled.

  Clutching her dress, lifting it so she wouldn’t trip over the torn hem, she rushed to find the door they had used earlier.

  But they had not been alone in the garden.

  In her haste, she nearly collided with an older gentleman leaning against a column along the veranda, holding a lit cigar. In hopes that he hadn’t been there long, she nodded hesitantly and skirted around him.

  Thankfully, she managed to find her way to the ladies retiring room without encountering anyone else. Had that gentleman outside overheard her conversation with Michael? She refused to allow the thought to take up residence in her mind. She simply did not have room for it.

  “Ma’am.” A young maid jumped to attention as Lilly entered the retiring room. Thank God no other guests were present.

  But glancing in the mirror, Lilly realized, besides her torn gown, her appearance was surprisingly normal. Unless one examined her closely. The knot in her hair was loosened, and her lips were slightly swollen. She addressed the maid. “Do you have a needle and thread?”

  “Aye, my lady, ’tis what I am employed for.” She rummaged through a basket and pulled out a navy spool. The girl threaded the needle and then went straight to work on Lilly’s dress. “Won’t take me but a
moment,” she commented, weaving the needle through the muslin. “I can fix up your hair, too, if you’d like.”

  Lilly covered her face with her hands. What was wrong with her? She’d given in to him so easily, the same as before. She suffered a grave weakness where that man was concerned.

  “Thank you, miss,” Lilly said. After the maid tied off her thread, Lilly sat on a stool and allowed the maid to go to work on her hair.

  What had she been thinking? She had not! That was the trouble.

  If that gentleman had overheard their conversation or witnessed their embrace, all would be at risk. Michael’s ambitions aside, a scandalous stepmother would ruin Glenda’s prospects.

  But that was not the worst of it.

  She’d told Michael the horrible truth—the shameful secrets of her marriage.

  Lilly nearly moaned at the thought. She’d not told a single soul of the humiliation or her torment. She didn’t want pity. Especially from Michael. A soft wail of humiliation escaped her, and the maid paused. “Sorry, mum. I’ll be more careful like. ’Tis a tender head ye have.”

  Lilly must bring her emotions under control. She smiled at the servant in their reflection. “You are doing fine.” She spoke encouragingly.

  As the maid twisted her hair into a neat knot, another lady swept into the room. The golden-blond girl peered into the mirror before looking back at Lilly.

  She was Lady Natalie Ravensdale.

  She brightened immediately. “You are the Baroness Beauchamp, are you not? I became acquainted with your stepdaughter, Miss Beauchamp, earlier. She is so very cheerful and amusing to converse with. Silly of me, I know. We are supposed to wait to be introduced, but I am Natalie Spencer. My father is Ravensdale.”

  The girl spoke openly, Lilly could not help but return her friendliness. “I am Glenda’s stepmother, and I am so glad she is meeting some young ladies her own age. We are just arrived to town, and this is her first season.” Thank God she had not given in to tears. The young woman’s exuberance helped Lilly to return to her normal cheerful self.

  Lady Natalie sat down on another stool. “I think she is younger than I. I made my come out when I was twenty! Can you imagine that? Thank heavens, I managed a match my first season. Even if he is a bit old, and like my father, only talks of politics, he is quite handsome. I think he will make a pleasant husband.”

  Lilly smiled, amused that Michael’s betrothed thought of him as old. She was surprised she could find amusement in anything just now. “I have heard talk of your wedding. To the Duke of Cortland, I believe. He cannot be all that old?”

  Lady Natalie sighed deeply. “My father is very pleased with the match.”

  “Fathers have a way of getting their way in such matters.” What an odd conversation to be having right now. About fathers and marriage…“My father pressed me to marry as well,” Lilly admitted. “We love our papas so very much; it seems the most important thing in the world to make them happy.” Lilly stared into the mirror as she spoke, remembering her father before he took to his sick bed. He’d been insensitive at times and a bit overbearing, but he had always made her feel safe. He’d loved Lilly and her mother almost too much.

  “You do understand.” Lady Natalie’s eyes met hers once again.

  Lilly swallowed hard, again, fighting tears. “Glenda spent all of last year mourning her father. It is time for her to dance. I am glad she is making new friends now.”

  Lady Natalie sat primly as the maid moved to work on her golden hair. Her expression, in the mirror, was all sympathy and concern. “Oh, how dreadful for her! And for you! I cannot imagine this world without my father. He spoils me horribly even though I can be a pestilence at times. I think I have been very lucky in both of my parents.”

  Lilly smiled at her.

  Suddenly, Lady Natalie jumped to her feet, startling the maid. “They are announcing the supper dance! I best allow my fiancé to find me, or I will never hear the end of it. May I call on you tomorrow? I will bring my brother Joseph, if that is acceptable? Will you be receiving at Lady Sheffield’s?” At Lilly’s nod, she turned to go but stopped short and looked back. “I do believe my brother Joe is sweet on Miss Beauchamp. He never dances with anybody by choice, and he’s reserved the supper dance with her! Oh, damn and blast, the supper dance!” With that, she fled the room leaving both Lilly and the maid with raised eyebrows.

  Lilly wished Lady Natalie had been a hag with a large mole on her nose. Quite the contrary, however. Not only was she an extremely pretty lady, but she was the sort of person Lilly could befriend. As unlikely as it seemed, the younger woman’s company had been comforting!

  What a strange world this is, Lilly thought, returning to the foyer near the ballroom. More composed now, the weight of sadness from earlier had lifted…slightly. Not wishing to draw any notice, she crept around the edge of the ballroom until she was beside her aunt again.

  Lady Eleanor examined her suspiciously. “And where have you been off to, Lilly? There have been two gentlemen looking to put their names on your dance card. That viscount, Danbury, and an old geezer.”

  Lilly didn’t answer but shook her head and then allowed her gaze to search the dancing couples. Every now and then, she glimpsed a familiar face from her first season. Faces that were older than they had been before.

  Two of them were Penelope Crone and Caroline Harris. Miss Crone looked much the same, although less bubbly than Lilly remembered. Lilly watched as Penelope nodded calmly at her dance partner and then stepped along the line. With serious eyes, she didn’t seem to laugh as easily as she had before. Is that what growing up did to people?

  Perhaps not everyone. Her other friend, Caroline Harris, seemed to be enjoying herself immensely but was less easily recognizable. Matronly and plump, she’d filled out considerably around her middle. Her face was round and full of laughter. She danced with a very friendly looking gentleman, only slightly taller than she. Lilly watched as he whispered something in Caroline’s ear causing her to blush. Caroline smiled and then gave him a seductive look. The man must be her husband—two very satisfied halves of a love match.

  As much as Lilly had anticipated catching up with old friends, she was in no mood to do so tonight. She caught her aunt’s attention by placing her hand on the older woman’s arm.

  “One of my headaches is coming on, Aunt. Would you mind terribly if I took the carriage to the town house and then sent it back to collect you and Glenda later?”

  Aunt Eleanor seemed disappointed but gave Lilly her permission. “Perhaps you should see a physician about them, Lilly. They seem to come on often.” Her brow furrowed in concern.

  Lilly felt guilty at the fabrication but needed to escape. It was not a complete untruth, anyhow. Pressure had built up behind her eyes in a most threatening manner.

  “Go home, dear, and get some rest. I’ll tell Glenda.”

  “I will, and thank you.” Lilly affectionately squeezed her aunt’s hand before maneuvering toward the exit. As she worked her way around the ballroom, she caught a glimpse of Michael dancing with the beautiful and, yes, likeable, Lady Natalie. They seemed comfortable in each other’s arms, dancing in perfect harmony. As Michael’s gaze found her, Lilly put her head down and slipped out of the room. An aching in her temples strengthened the excuse she’d given her aunt. These emotions needed to be put to rest.

  Enough already.

  ****

  Early the next morning, wearing an old morning dress and a large floppy bonnet, Lilly itched to begin work in the garden. She determined to free herself of the past with some satisfying manual labor, and the early hours were the best time to do this.

  The hired man, Burt, had worked for her aunt for over five decades and had long since lost the enthusiasm to keep up with the area covered in a tangle of vines and weeds. Dear Aunt Eleanor hadn’t the heart to replace him.

  She found him leaning against the deteriorating gardener’s shack, seemingly contemplating the day’s duties, when she stepped outsi
de. Concerned he might resent her interference, Lilly need not have worried. For before she could even ask, he located gloves, a rake, and a wagon for her use. Burt showed no reluctance whatsoever in handing over the gardening responsibilities.

  Miss Fussy, who had followed her outside, took to exploring the perimeter.

  Lilly did not contemplate tending the garden as a whole but took on a small area instead. It was easier this way, less overwhelming.

  There, she allowed her concerns to work themselves out in the rich, cool soil as she pulled and cut and raked. As the sun rose higher, Lilly managed to clear a rather large area near the back gate. Under the long-dead dried brush, she was pleased to find several tender shoots which had survived the wintertime and were reaching upwards, eagerly looking forward to warmth again. She guessed them to be tulips. She also discovered some leafy clusters she thought to be lobelia. There was something spiritual about having one’s hands in the dirt, turning the earth, and assisting the plants.

  Seeing Michael again had overshadowed the fact that she was entering a new and peaceful time of her life. She loved her aunt, and her aunt seemed to enjoy her company as well. Lilly believed Aunt Eleanor had become somewhat lonely. Despite all her friends amongst the ton, there was something comforting, grounding rather, in one’s own family. Lilly knew Aunt Eleanor had grieved deeply at Lilly’s mother’s funeral.

  Yes, she was in a better place than she had been in years.

  Her life at Beauchamp Manor had been depressing, demeaning, and just plain cold. Lord Beauchamp had sent Glenda away as often as possible, and when she had been home, he had controlled the amount of influence Lilly could have over the girl. Until his illness had nearly completely incapacitated him, the baron always had the final say about what was or was not good for his daughter.

  Lord Beauchamp had forbade Lilly to work in the actual garden on the property, so Lilly had found isolated areas where she could cultivate flowers, herbs, vegetables, and shrubs of her own choosing. She shared cuttings with some of the neighbors, and when she managed a good harvest, she would take baskets of food around to some of the poorer people who lived nearby. She’d read every book she could find on botany and even written down techniques she’d discovered on her own for certain types of plants.