Stopping to stretch, Lilly considered the small garden area. This was healing, working in plain sight, not having to worry about drawing the baron’s ire. Miss Fussy, tired of searching for unknown treasures, had found a sunny spot nearby and appeared to be sleeping soundly. Lilly smiled. How she loved the little imp.
Dragging the nearly full wagon, Lilly moved to the other side of this particular plot and discovered more lobelia. The pretty little blue plants made for delightful ground cover. They reminded her of Edgewater Heights. The plant had grown profusely along the driveway. Lilly leaned back on her heels and sighed. Although it was bittersweet to do so, she’d recalled the time she’d spent there hundreds, perhaps thousands of times.
Edgewater Heights was a delightful estate. Hopefully, the people Michael—no, she must try to think of him as the duke or His Grace. Yes, hopefully the people His Grace leased it to were keeping it in good repair. Thinking about Michael again, she touched her lips.
Lilly Beauchamp, the Baroness Beauchamp, had gone nearly nine whole years since last being kissed.
Nothing Lord Beauchamp had ever done could be considered a kiss.
The last true kiss she had been given had been very early in the morning, after returning from the waterfall when Michael kissed her goodnight, or more appropriately, good morning. They had both been tired and giddy from their lovemaking and love play in the water afterwards. It was amazing what two people could do underwater when there were no inhibitions to stifle their creativity.
Since that morning, throughout her entire marriage, Lilly had gone kiss-less.
Perhaps that was why she had become such a wanton under Michael’s—no, His Grace’s, no, Michael’s—kisses the previous night. (She could not think of him as a duke while thinking of him in relation to kissing.) She’d become a wanton due to her kiss-lessness. She had been positively starved for kisses. That was a very logical explanation.
And now that she had experienced it again, she would not be nearly as starved should such an opportunity arise in the future. Lilly brushed her hands together to remove some mud and went back to work.
Both her mind and her heart relaxed as a mental picture formed of what the plot would look like in a few months. Her muscles were tired but not from tension, rather from healthy physical labor. This was much better. Finally, Lilly removed the muddied gloves, found Burt as he puttered about, and filled him in on what she thought ought to be allowed to stay and what must go. Tomorrow, she told him, she would cut back and then remove the old rosebush. It was gnarly, and the thorns made exiting the back gate a dicey endeavor.
Lilly hated roses!
“Lady Eleanor told me to let you make of it what you wish, ma’am. Just tell me what you’ll be needing, and I can make arrangements to get it for you.” The old man, rather than being put out by her interference, seemed pleased. Lilly’s heart lightened upon hearing this. After all, she hadn’t wanted to step on anybody’s toes with her plans. She was so grateful to her aunt for allowing them to stay with her. Lady Eleanor extended more welcome to Lilly than she’d ever received at Beauchamp Manor. The feeling gave her a great sense of relief.
Lilly gathered Miss Fussy up and headed back into the house. The pup was covered in mud. “I think we both are in need of a bath, little one.” She kissed the top of Miss Fussy’s head. She would ask Betty about having water brought up. Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she grimaced. Dirt smudged her face, and several strands of hair had escaped the tight chignon she’d begun the day with.
Just as Lilly turned to climb the stairs, Glenda’s voice cried out from behind her in alarm, “Lilly, you are going to dress properly today, aren’t you? You must, Lilly! I am so nervous. What if he comes to call this afternoon? What if he doesn’t come to call? I need you to be there because I know I will positively make a hash of things myself. He is so handsome! I believe I must be in love! He has the most beautiful eyes, and his smile is ever so charming…”
Feeling more than a little confused, Lilly’s brows rose questioningly. “Whoever are you talking about?”
“You ninny! You must remember Mr. Joseph Spencer. He is the son of an earl, and he claimed two dances with me, Lilly! He told me I was the most beautiful girl at the ball! He promised to call upon me. I simply adore him.” Ah, the young man who had been with Michael. Yes, Lady Natalie’s brother. Good God, was this really happening? It would be laughable if it wasn’t so ironically cruel.
“I am going to clean up as soon as I return to my chamber.” Lilly smiled reassuringly. She was pleased for Glenda. She did want Glenda to be happy. She was her sister’s daughter. Lilly had not been able to be a mother as she’d first thought, but if it was the last thing she did, she would make certain Rose’s daughter had a promising future. “I met his sister, Lady Natalie, before leaving last night. I think they must be a very pleasant family, don’t you?” At Glenda’s enthusiastic nod, Lilly continued, “Now let me pass so I can be presentable for Aunt Eleanor’s at-home.”
Glenda laughed and then danced her way downstairs.
Lilly’s own steps slowed as she considered this new development.
Very well then. Obviously, things would not be as simple as she’d hoped. It seemed Michael’s fiancée and family were not going away. Lilly must find a way to endure them. No that was not fair. She liked Lady Natalie.
This was a good thing. It ought to be a very good thing.
Hopefully Michael—er, His Grace, that was—spent most of his time with an older set. Oh, blast, he was always going to be Michael to her.
Lilly could do this. Melancholy would not take hold of her again!
****
For a debutante newly introduced to society, the afternoon at home proved to be a rousing success. Several of the younger gentlemen arrived bearing bouquets of flowers and chocolates for Glenda. Most importantly, though, Mr. Joseph Spencer, with his sister in tow, kept his word and arrived as promised.
Lilly found him to be a rather pleasant gentleman. She even allowed Glenda to accept an invitation to go out riding with him and his sister later in the afternoon. Lilly would come along as well in order to lend the outing more respectability.
Their visitors also included both Miss Penelope Crone and Mrs. John Tiddle (formerly Miss Caroline Harris). Lilly spent over an hour catching up on the events of both their lives.
Caroline, now the mother of four, yes four rambunctious boys ranging from age three to seven, confided she might be carrying again. Caroline and her husband resided in London year-round as he worked as a barrister and his office required he be at hand daily. The children were currently with a new governess, the former having recently married. Mrs. Tiddle gave Lilly considerable detail regarding each of her offspring, which although a bit tedious, was very sweet. Lilly was pleased to know her friend had made such an amiable match. She tried not to wonder how many children she and Michael might have had by now.
Miss Crone had turned down so many offers that her family now declared her quite firmly on the shelf. Penelope said she preferred it this way. Quietly, she told Lilly she would only marry if she could find the kind of love Lilly and Captain Redmond—the duke—had seemed to have found long ago. She said, although it had ended in heartache, for she knew Lilly must have been heartbroken, they had shown her true love existed. “And I cannot,” she said, “quite literally, give myself, my very person, to a man unless he is passionately in love with me, and I feel the same in return.”
Lilly listened as her friend told her how she had seen too many miserable matches amongst the ton, and she did not wish to become a member of such a hideous group. “If I cannot trust my husband to care for me more than for his own personal interests, why on earth should I give him ownership of my person?” Penelope was adamant about her position. Lilly agreed emphatically. She had been Lord Beauchamp’s property.
It was a boon for Penelope to have been blessed with the financial freedom to eschew marriage if she so wished.
After the last o
f the guests left, Glenda glowed, and Aunt Eleanor declared her a dazzling success. Finally, Lilly thought, things were going smoothly.
For once.
Chapter Seventeen
A Second Season
Once the season began, there were events to attend nearly every day, sometimes two, even! Lilly, Glenda, and Lady Eleanor attended garden parties, musicales, and picnics and often went on shopping expeditions with Penelope, Caroline, and Natalie. (No more Miss or Mrs. or Lady this or that).
And of course, they attended balls. And the same as before, Aunt Eleanor managed to receive invitations to every single one—those that mattered anyhow. Each week, she and Lilly carefully considered which events would be the best to attend and which should absolutely not be attended. Lilly found that she could exist quite nicely in London without seeing Michael for days at a time.
She did find herself, however, spending a great deal of time with his fiancée.
A fiancée, she might add, who rarely mentioned him, and quite easily dismissed him from her life in favor of spiriting about with her more youthful friends. Natalie loved to shop and had made it her mission to persuade Lilly to shed many of her old and less than fashionable gowns. Unable to resist Natalie’s tenacity, Lilly allowed herself to purchase a few evening dresses which enhanced her figure and coloring. Insisting it was completely acceptable for a widow, the modiste presented gowns which were inevitably cut low in the bodice and made up of reds and golds. Lilly would protest, but Natalie had a knack persuading Lilly that she absolutely must purchase this very one. “Besides,” Natalie would say, “it is your duty to allow all of us debutantes to live vicariously through you. After I am married, I shall wear nothing but the boldest of colors! I’ll never wear anything pink again!”
Lilly loved the idea of Michael’s perfect duchess decked out in bright red and a daringly low bodice.
Having previously only worn her older clothing, Lilly chose the Mathison gala to debut the first of her new dresses. It was a deep gold color. “Just like your eyes,” Natalie had said. It was designed to be worn without a corset or petticoats. Aunt Eleanor simply loved it and declared she wished she had worn something just like it when she had had the figure to carry it off.
The dress was enchanting! As though hibernating for a decade, the woman inside of Lilly blossomed upon donning it. Being a widow held some tantalizing possibilities. With little adornment, the dress draped Lilly in elegant sophistication. She was her own person, not the property of any man, including a father or husband.
Lilly’s transformation did not go unnoticed. Whereas before, curious eyes would notice, inspect, and then dismiss, they now noticed, inspected, and then inspected some more. Lilly wished she had kept her shawl about her. The attention, as exciting as it was, also proved a little frightening. She had worn the dress because she liked it. She hadn’t considered the fact that she would no longer blend in with the matrons and wallflowers. She’d not considered that she might, in fact, attract masculine notice. Upon finding a settee for Aunt Eleanor, Lilly took the space besides her. She was a chaperone, after all—and a companion.
Nonetheless, she found she did attract the attention of a few rather handsome gentlemen. (Not all of them were, in truth, handsome.) But Lilly pleased herself by finding a positive attribute in each one of her partners.
Oh, but the heat!
As the night wore on, the room, as was usually the case, grew warm. When a particularly lively country dance ended, Lilly and Penelope slipped into the ladies’ retiring room to cool their temples with some tepid water. What with all the dancing and the candles, both admitted to feeling overheated. They took their time on the sofas provided.
“He’s being a ninny,” Penelope stated as she removed her slippers to massage her toes.
Lilly pretended not to know who Penelope meant by “he” but glanced around to be certain they were alone, nonetheless.
“I mean, Lady Natalie is a darling, of course! But she is so young! And now that you no longer have a husband—”
“Don’t say it.” Lilly jumped to her feet. Sometimes Penelope was far too outspoken. Why if anyone were to overhear—well, it didn’t even bear considering. “Are you ready to return? My aunt will be wondering where I’ve run off to. I am her companion and Glenda’s chaperone, after all.” Lilly took her responsibilities seriously.
Penelope narrowed her eyes. “Very well.” Resigned, she replaced her shoe and rose as well. “But in my opinion, both of you are being foolish. True love doesn’t come along very often, and to allow it to pass you both by, a second time, is a travesty. Just my opinion, mind you.”
Lilly shook her head but smiled. In spite of Penelope’s outspokenness, it was difficult to be angry with her. “In this case, I’d appreciate you keeping your opinion to yourself.”
Lilly had done well in not dwelling on Michael’s presence. She did not need her friend reminding her. She smoothed her gown as they re-entered the ballroom and went their separate ways. Penelope returned to her mother, and Lilly, as always, found her aunt’s side.
“Didn’t know where you had gotten off to,” Aunt Eleanor admonished her teasingly. “Wondered if you’d run away with one of these young bucks sniffing after you.” Her aunt’s laughter cut off abruptly. Lilly was surprised then to see the older woman’s eyes narrow.
“Lady Sheffield, you must present me to your delightful niece. I have been unable to take my eyes off her all evening.” A man, well past his middle years, with gray hair but thick black eyebrows, appeared as though out of thin air. Although he seemed somewhat familiar, Lilly could not place where she had seen him. Most likely at one of the seemingly endless events they’d been attending. The same people tended to appear over and over again at most of the ton’s affairs. Snatching her hand and raising it to his pouting lips, he bowed formally.
Her aunt was no more impressed than she. Sniffing into the air, Aunt Eleanor obviously did not approve of the man. But to deny him an introduction would be tantamount to giving him the cut.
“Lord Hawkborn, may I present to you my niece, Lady Beauchamp. Lilly, this is the Earl of Hawkborn.” Lilly winced as her aunt’s lip curled. She’d never seen her aunt be rude to anyone.
“Hawthorn. I am the Earl of Hawthorn,” the gentleman said through clenched teeth. Then, in an effort to exert his manners in spite of the snub, he politely addressed Lilly. “Lady Beauchamp, it is my greatest pleasure to meet you. I daresay, the supper dance is next. Would you do me the honor of standing up with me?”
Lilly happened to be free for this particular dance. She’d left it, purposely so, in order to remain with her aunt for the meal. But she could not decline without good reason. Ah, well. It was only one set.
“It would be my pleasure, Lord Hawthorn.” Turning to her aunt, she nodded and said, “Will you be dining with Lady Danbury, or would you like for me to find you in the supper room?”
Her aunt gave the earl a withering look. “Yes, come find me, dear.” She paused, as though she had something else to say on the matter, but then turned away and began gossiping with another of her ubiquitous very close friends.
Lilly took the earl’s arm and allowed him to lead her to the floor. He was very tall and gangly and hadn’t yet begun to stoop with age. But there was something odd about him. He carried an unnatural tension. His arm felt thin and bony. She wondered if he wore padding in his shoulders. The dance was, Lilly realized too late, a waltz. As the earl placed his skeletal fingers at her waist, Lilly felt as though a spider had landed on her. She resisted the impulse to shudder. His other bony hand clasped hers firmly, and the dance began.
The last year at Beauchamp Mansion had been spent preparing Glenda to enter society. One of the lessons scheduled daily had been dance. Lilly had attended every lesson faithfully along with Glenda. If necessary, Lilly could waltz on her hands—blindfolded.
The earl was not as diligent and seemed somewhat distracted by the steps.
“I must admit, my lord,” Li
lly began, “I am surprised you would seek me out. I am a mere widow, a chaperone to my stepdaughter.”
The earl looked up at her with pale and watery blue eyes. Suddenly no longer distracted by the steps of the dance, all of his attention focused upon her.
Again, she forced herself not to shudder. There was something very…off…about this man.
“You mean your…niece?” he managed to say without stepping on her toes.
Thinking there was a chance that he was simply mistaken, Lilly spoke coolly. “No, my lord, my stepdaughter.” She would change the subject. “I understand your son, Lord Castleton, is in attendance tonight. It is always such a pleasure to have family nearby, wouldn’t you agree?” she asked innocently.
The earl’s face darkened. “Ah, yes…yes…He might be. I do not keep myself informed of his whereabouts.” He glanced down at his feet for a moment before changing the subject to her once again. “No, I am not mistaken, my dear. I am referring to your niece, who also happens to be your stepdaughter.” Lilly glanced into his eyes and then away from them just as quickly.
It was Lilly who nearly missed a step this time, as she processed the fact that this man knew the truth of her marriage. “The distinction is of no importance.” Perhaps it was not. Oh, please, let it not be!
The earl waited for her to expand on her words, but when she did not he continued in a threatening tone. “Oh, my lady, I think that it is. Am I not still in England? It is illegal, is it not? To marry one’s dead sister’s husband?” The earl leaned down so his mouth was very near her face. He smelled of an awful cigar smoke. She turned her head to avoid his breath. And suddenly remembered where she had seen him. He was the man she’d nearly collided with weeks ago, while fleeing Michael at the Willoughby Ball.
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