My Fair Lily

by Meara Platt

  “Timid? Then she’s nothing like her brother.”

  Eloise sighed. “Ewan can be a bit headstrong, but he’s a good man. What do you think of him?”

  Lily pursed her lips as she gave the question some thought. “I don’t know. He’s blunt, unimpressed by society. Clearly hasn’t spent any time going about in society. But he’s kind to his dog and was very kind to me yesterday. He bought me a bouquet of violets.”

  Eloise’s ears perked. “Did he?”

  “Ah, your eyes have lit up like fireflies on a summer’s eve. Please don’t make too much of it. He saw that I had been treated cruelly by certain members of the Royal Society and took pity on me. That’s all. It was a small bouquet. Tell me more about his sister.”

  “I haven’t seen her in a while, so I don’t know much more than I’ve already told you. I’m certain you and Meggie will become fast friends.”

  “I look forward to meeting her.”

  “Good. Then it’s settled. You’ll join me at Lotheil Court. Did you know the duke has one of the finest libraries in England?”

  She nodded. “I’m eager to see it. Do you think he’ll allow me a view of it?”

  “Ewan will give you a tour if his grandfather won’t. Run along and ready yourself, child. We haven’t much time.”

  Within the hour, she and Eloise were in the Dayne carriage on their way to the duke’s imposing residence. Lily had known the place would be impressive, but she wasn’t prepared for its palatial size or splendor. Built in the style of a Grecian temple, Lotheil Court had soaring marble columns and an enormous fountain in the center of the circular drive. The duke stood at the top of the porticoed steps, staring down at them with arms folded across his chest.

  His thick head of white hair matched the color of those soaring portico columns, and he looked every bit as grand as his home. So did Ewan, who stole Lily’s breath away as she gazed at him standing at the foot of the steps, his arms folded across his broad chest and his brow furrowed in that same look of determination his grandfather had on his face.

  She imagined the two men would be appalled to realize how closely they resembled each other. They looked like a matched pair of fire irons—stiff, unbendable—and both had the same, stubborn set to their jaws.

  A young woman stood beside Ewan. Her long hair was a shade redder than her brother’s. Her eyes were a lighter green than his, more of a sea green, and showed signs of crying recently.

  “That’s Meggie,” Eloise told Lily. “She’s a sweet-looking girl. Poor thing, she looks as out of place here as a donkey in a henhouse.”

  Lily agreed.

  The footmen lining the steps were more finely dressed than either Ewan or Meggie, she noted. Indeed, even the duke’s gardener went about his work in more stylish clothes.

  Ewan strode toward the carriage to greet Eloise and help her down.

  He smiled as he turned to Lily. “Glad ye made it, lass. What do ye think of the place? A braw paffle, is it no’?” He took her by the waist and lifted her into the air as though she weighed no more than a feather.

  She grabbed his shoulders for support, not surprised to find them hard and muscled. “Oh, yes. Quite braw and extremely paffled.”

  Chuckling, he set her down beside him but didn’t release her.

  She had to admit, this was an excellent way to descend from a carriage.

  “Come, Lily. I’d like you to meet Meggie.” His warm breath tickled her ear and his fingers lingered at her waist, his touch light and at the same time possessive. Little tingles of heat ran up her body and shot down to her toes before racing upward again. A delightful flutter began deep in her stomach, as though it housed a thousand dancing butterflies.

  She took a deep breath to steady herself and inhaled Ewan’s scent, an earthy scent of pine forest, clean and pure and rugged. “Meggie’s been crying since she arrived,” he said in a whisper. “I can no’ make her stop.”

  Lily’s gaze darted to his sister. Poor thing. But what could she do? “I’ll try my best to cheer her.”

  Ewan tossed her a lopsided smile. “Och, lass. That would be grand.”

  Oh, his smile! The butterflies in her stomach were now dancing themselves into a frenzy.

  When he made quick introductions, Meggie graced her with a hesitant smile and Lily returned it warmly. She noted that the duke had not deigned to descend the few steps to greet them but was waiting for them to climb the steps to reach him.

  Eloise walked up them assisted by Meggie, who had a hand on her arm. Ewan had tried to offer, but she’d dismissed him with some nonsense about not seeing Meggie for ages and wanting to catch up with all that had happened since Eloise’s last visit north.

  Ewan was left with his arm sticking out conspicuously, so he offered it to Lily. “By the way, what’s a paffle?” she asked as they approached the duke, who had escorted Eloise and Meggie into the entry hall.

  He chuckled. “A bit o’ land.”

  She looked about, her gaze once more falling upon the ducal residence in all its white marble splendor. “Indeed, it’s quite a paffle.” The gleaming entry hall was two stories high and full of light from an elevated row of windows. The light reflected off the black and white marble tile floor. One wall of the sparsely furnished hall contained an enormous mirror edged in gold leaf and, under it, a mosaic table of Arabian design.

  “May I present my companion, Miss Lily Farthingale,” Eloise said.

  The duke regarded her with the same, dark emerald eyes as his grandson’s. “I know you. You’re that baboon girl, the Farthingale chit everyone at the Royal Society is in a fuss about. You don’t look like much.”

  A soft growl emanated from the back of Ewan’s throat, and his hands curled into fists. “Insult her again and I’ll—”

  Lily put a hand on his fist. “I am the very one, Your Grace. I’m glad to hear I’ve made you all take notice. Rest assured, you haven’t heard the last of me.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Against your male bastion?” She nodded. “And a promise. I’ll have your ancient walls crumbling before the year is out.”

  “Gel, you’re fortunate you came here with my dear friend. Otherwise, I’d have tossed you out on your impertinent ear.”

  “Lotheil! Really!”

  “I beg your pardon, Eloise. Your young friend here ought to be taken to the woodshed and soundly thrashed.”

  Ewan’s sister burst into tears.

  Ewan groaned. “Och, Meggie. Will ye no’ stop crying?”

  So much for introductions. Lily put an arm about Meggie’s shoulders. “Don’t you fret. You and I shall be great friends. Your grandfather and I are just amiably sparring. It’s all the rage in London to... er... engage in witty repartee. Do you like to ride?”

  She sniffled. “I’m no’ very good at it. My brother is, though.”

  Lily nodded. “So I’ve heard. Do you enjoy lectures? There’s a fascinating one tomorrow on Charlemagne.”

  “Who?”

  Lily exchanged perplexed glances with Ewan. “Never mind.”

  The duke led them into his conservatory, where a table overlooking his impressive garden was set for five. Ferns in decorative pots stood at measured intervals around the room, except in one spot where there seemed to be a pot missing.

  “Jasper broke it this morning,” Ewan whispered. “The big looby slid on his belly across the polished floor and next thing ye know, there’s a great crash followed by a whimper.”

  She let out a laughing groan. “Poor Jasper.” The adorable beast did not walk or trot. He bounded, sprang, leapt. “Where is he now?”

  “My chamber. Safest to keep him up there for now. There’s so much shine and polish in this house, poor creature’s been sliding into walls all day.” He held out a chair for Lily, then turned to his sister and held one out for her. “Meggie, you and I can take him for a walk later.”

  The poor girl looked as though she were going to burst into tears again. She cast Ewan a look that
clearly revealed her desire to return to Scotland now and never come back.

  Ewan had the same expression on his face.

  If they hated being here, then why had they come? Lily glanced at Eloise, who was engaged in conversation with the duke. She recalled the little bits of information Eloise had revealed in the carriage on their way over, something about a family bitterness that had lasted thirty years. She’d have to pry more details out of her companion as soon as they were on their way back to Chipping Way. She couldn’t understand such feuds. Her family always talked through their differences, compromised, put love above all else. That’s what the duke and his grandchildren ought to have done years ago.

  For the remainder of the afternoon, the duke spoke mostly to Eloise about plans for his birthday party.

  He ignored Lily.

  Endured Meggie.

  Surprisingly, Lily caught him glancing at Ewan in admiration. Not once, but twice, and only when Ewan had turned away.

  Near the end of the afternoon, the duke surprised Lily by offering her a tour of the house. “Might as well show it to you and my granddaughter, since she hasn’t let go of your arm since you arrived.”

  Eloise remained behind in the conservatory, shooing Ewan away when he offered to remain with her. “Nonsense, join the ladies,” she insisted. “You’ll be grinding your teeth and fretting until they return. Quite an annoying habit. Can’t abide it.”

  The duke led them through his summer salon and winter salon, the summer dining room and winter dining room, the ballroom, music room, a smaller conservatory, portrait gallery, and finally his library.

  Lily gasped as she entered. “I’ve never seen anything so fine!” She walked from bookshelf to bookshelf, trailing her hand along the spines of the assorted volumes. There were so many! “I could spend years in here,” she said, more to herself.

  “Spend as long as you wish,” the duke replied. “Come over whenever you wish.”

  Meggie broke into a smile for the first time since they’d met. “Oh, Lily! Please do.”

  Lily glanced at Ewan, but he had his gaze fixed on the duke, eyeing him warily. Lily was wary, too. “Very kind of you,” she answered cautiously, wondering at his sudden generosity and how she fit into his schemes.

  The old man was plotting something beyond a mere request to provide companionship for Meggie. Lily knew he detested her, though after their first encounter had alarmed Meggie, he’d strained to be more civil to her. Hadn’t actually spoken to her, for that was too much to ask. But he hadn’t shot daggers at her either.

  They returned to the conservatory. The remnants of the tea had been cleared from the table, which was set anew with a tablecloth of embroidered linen, delicate china, and brilliant sterling silver. “A fortnight ago, I was roasting rabbit over a campfire,” Ewan muttered. “Right now, I feel like the rabbit roasting on a spit.”

  Lily nodded sympathetically.

  Ewan had reason not to trust his grandfather.

  He was a mean old man.

  Had anyone else given her an open invitation to use a magnificent library, she would have considered the gesture quite charitable.

  But to use Lotheil Court’s library?

  The duke was a cold, proud man.

  He did nothing out of charity.

  “Will you be holding a ball in honor of your grandchildren?” Eloise asked.

  Ewan regarded her with horror. “I’d sooner invite wolves to chew off m’leg! I told ye, Eloise. I’m not one for society. His Grace may do as he pleases, just leave me and Meggie out of it.”

  Lily glanced at Meggie.

  “Margaret,” the duke said, jolting the poor girl to attention. “Do you feel as your brother does about a party?”

  She clutched Lily’s arm and nodded.

  “Well, that answers your question,” he said to Eloise. “My grandchildren want nothing to do with me.”

  The tea, about as pleasant as the Spanish Inquisition, ended a few minutes later.

  Ewan and Meggie assisted Eloise into the carriage, but the duke held Lily back, mentioning something about a book he thought might interest her. “Come with me,” he commanded, leading her briskly into the library and offering her a seat beside his desk, which she declined. “I’ll come straight to the point. My grandchildren like you. They obviously detest me,” he said, and Lily noted a surprising tinge of sadness in his voice.

  “Can you blame them?” She ought to have kept her mouth shut, but couldn’t help it. “You weren’t very kind to their parents, cut off all relations for the past thirty years.”

  He looked her sternly up and down. “That is none of your concern.”

  “Your Grace, is there a reason you wished to speak to me alone?”

  He looked her up and down again. “You want admission into the Royal Society, don’t you?”

  She glowered at him.

  “I’ll get you in... on one condition.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Restore my relations with Ewan and Margaret. They’ll be leaving London in three months’ time. I’ll never see them again, unless the improbable happens and we reconcile. Miss Farthingale,” he said, taking her hand in a firm grip, “if you make us a family again, I’ll make you the Royal Society’s first female member. What do you say? Do we have a bargain?”

  “How can I restore affections that never existed?”

  “Do we have a bargain? Will you deliver my family back to me?”

  “I’ll think about it.” She slipped her hand out of his cold fingers, not sure why she felt so unsettled about doing a good deed. Families ought to be together, but to accept such a bribe for something she would have gladly taken on simply for the asking?

  He threw his head back and laughed. “I knew you had larceny in you, gel! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She walked away.

  Had she just made a deal with the devil?

  ***

  The next afternoon, Lily was summoned to Eloise’s home. “I’ve invited you here today for Meggie’s sake,” her friend explained. “She needs more help than I imagined. Though she won’t be formally introduced into society this year, I’d still like to take her out, show her a bit of London, and introduce her to my friends. The clothes she’s brought with her simply won’t do. She’ll need an entirely new wardrobe. Her brother will undertake the costs, of course.”

  Lily grinned. “Of course. And since at least three or four gowns must be ready within the week, Madame de Bressard will likely triple her fees. She’ll be dancing a jig by the time she’s finished draining Mr. Cameron of his hard-earned blunt.”

  “Now, Lily. It isn’t polite to speak of finances.”

  “I was merely making an observation about the economics of the transaction. The greater the demand for a particular good—”

  “Yes, yes, but I would appreciate your help in solving this particular problem. Ewan refuses to attend any society functions. Not a one. I can’t convince him otherwise.”

  “These affairs can be dreadfully dull.” She often thought so herself. “He doesn’t strike me as the sort of man to put up with idle chatter. As for Meggie, even though almost a year has passed since their father’s death, she still appears to be in mourning.”

  Eloise nodded. “Meggie’s miserable here and afraid of her grandfather. She needs companionship and more than a little distraction.”

  “Of course, I’ll help. I’ll enlist all the Farthingales. What would you like us to do?”

  “Include her in some of your activities,” Eloise said as they settled down to further discussion over a hearty lunch of sausage cobbler and assorted meat pies.

  ***

  Lily thought they made great progress in their plans during the course of the meal. She hoped Ewan and Meggie would be as pleased with the results. “Have we overlooked anything? You know them far better than I do. Anything special we can do for Meggie?”

  “I’ll give it some thought. She does need a good bit of cheering. As for the re
st of it, I think we’ve been quite thorough. Just some minor details left to discuss.”

  “Such as?” Lily set down her fork and drew the napkin to her lips to dab at a crumb or two that clung to her lips after devouring the tastiest chicken and leek pie she’d ever had. Eloise’s cook had mastered the art of making pastry dough, exceeding even the impressive talents of Mrs. Mayhew, who was practically perfect as far as Lily was concerned. Indeed, Mrs. Mayhew was a saint to put up with the thoroughly disorganized Farthingale clan, who had a habit of showing up unannounced at all hours. Her father and uncle George were the only sensible Farthingales, and if not for their good business sense and generosity, most of the family would likely be out begging on the streets.

  She was brought back to attention as Eloise responded to her question by counting on her fingers. “Well, Meggie will need a French lady’s maid to style her hair, tame those wild Highlands curls.”

  Lily nodded, sympathetic to the struggles since she (and Dillie, of course) had similar thick hair that seemed to have a life of its own, always ready to break free of its pins and spill over her shoulders, though hers was much darker than Meggie’s.

  “Meggie will have to learn some of the more popular dances. Ewan as well, though I expect he’s more polished than he’ll let on.”

  “Are you certain?” He was so obviously rough around the edges and had made no secret of his determination to remain that way.

  Eloise nodded. “Not about the dances, for he isn’t one for genteel entertainments. You won’t find him fitting a dance instructor into his busy day. But he has a natural, manly grace about him, don’t you think? And he’s a fast learner. He’s always been that way. Even as a child he was wise beyond his years.” She paused a moment and pursed her lips. “He’s never worn a beard before. He’s usually clean shaven and keeps himself well clothed and groomed.”

  Lily felt her heart take a little leap.

  “I’m sure he’s kept his beard and rustic clothes simply to irk his grandfather. Well, he’s had his bit of fun, and it’s time he made himself presentable. He’ll never dress like these young London dandies, but he knows how to carry off a stylish look. He’s a handsome man, or would be if he ever decided to fit in with the London crowd.”