He opened one eye. “No, you shan’t.”
“I shall be as glad to have you as you are to be here,” Lily said, her smile fixed firmly in place. She refused to let him rattle her.
“Don’t know why you choose to live in London,” he muttered, sitting up once more. “I cannot stand it here.”
As he spoke, Lily’s butler entered, offering Mr. Pierce a folded letter and making a hasty retreat. Lily sipped her own tea, watching her father warily over the cup’s edge while he read the note and crumpled it up with a sigh.
“The doctor can see me this afternoon. Which is quite the bother, because I also need to call on Sir Charles Wyatt. You’ll remember him, of course? And Frank?”
Lily resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Of course I remember them.”
The Wyatts’ property had been less than three miles from her father’s, and the two families had spent a great deal of time together when Lily was young. Sir Charles and Mr. Pierce had liked nothing better than to argue over a glass of sherry in the evenings. Sir Charles’s son Frank was Mr. Pierce’s godson; when Frank was home from school, he had often been included in their evening discussions or taken along when Mr. Pierce went riding or hunting.
Lily, who spent more time with a governess than with her father, was never invited to join.
“Well, he and his new wife have been in town,” Mr. Pierce said.
Lily couldn’t hide her surprise. “Frank Wyatt has married?”
Her father snorted. “No, Sir Charles has.”
That was almost more surprising. Lady Wyatt had died about sixteen years before. Lily vaguely remembered that she had been pregnant not long before her death, but as Frank was Sir Charles’s only child, she presumed that the child had died in infancy and that Lady Wyatt had never recovered from the birth. Sir Charles had been as much an established widower as Mr. Pierce.
Lily hadn’t thought about the Wyatts since before her marriage, and certainly not in the last few years of her mourning. But if she had, she would have assumed that Sir Charles was as unlikely to marry a second time as her own father.
“They will be leaving London any day now for the country,” Mr. Pierce said, shaking his head. “I must pay my respects before they depart. I cannot think why he got married again. But one must be polite to a bride, especially when she is married to an old friend. All this doctor business is damned inconvenient.”
Lily knew what he wanted. “I would be happy to call in your place, Father. I am sure Sir Charles will not be offended. And then when your appointment is finished, you will be free to return here and rest with no social obligations.”
Mr. Pierce smiled, clearly pleased to get his way. The expression he turned on Lily was very nearly approving. “That is very considerate of you.”
Lily smiled back so she wouldn’t sigh.
“Poor Frank is none too pleased with Sir Charles’s marriage.” Mr. Pierce shook his head again, already standing to show himself from the room. “So would any man be if his father took a fancy to some flibbertigibbet. But I’ve no doubt it will be an enjoyable visit for you. The Wyatts have always been pleasant people.”
* * *
When Lily emerged from the house with Anna accompanying her, she was surprised—and yet not at all surprised—to find Jack lounging against a nearby hitching post, watching the door with a small smile on his face. He tipped his hat. “I thought it might not take you long to flee.”
Lily sighed. “He has never been an easy man. Where are you headed, Captain?”
“With you, of course,” Jack said, giving a slight bow. “I suspected you might be in need of a confidant after he chased you out.”
Lily protested that she could not keep him from his plans for the day, and Jack shrugged his shoulders and insisted he hadn’t any other plans. Anna was free to return to the house while they set off toward Wimpole Street, where, Branson had informed Lily after her father neglected to provide any information, the Wyatts lived.
“He did not chase me from my home, I will have you know,” Lily said, her pride stinging a little. “He had an appointment he could not miss, and so I offered to pay a visit for him. A friend of his recently wed, and someone from our family must pay our respects to the bride.”
Jack snorted. “Your family being you and Mr. Pierce?”
“Well, my father does have a sister, so it is not only us,” Lily said. “But as she is not in London, yes.”
“I see,” Jack said dryly as he stepped toward the street to hail a passing hack carriage. When it stopped beside them, he opened the door, then turned to offer Lily his arm. “While your father may think—”
Whatever he might have said was lost as a flurry of bodies pushed past them, four young dandies in striped waistcoats and top boots all laughing and talking at the top of their lungs to be heard over each other. Lily and Jack were jostled out of the way as the young men crowded toward the carriage door Jack had just left open.
“Any string of bad luck has to break—”
“You’ll earn it all back at the Leger Stakes—”
“Just don’t let the old man know!”
“No fear of that,” one replied, as he swung himself into the carriage, waving at his friends to walk on. “Have to go meet my cousin. We will see you at ten o’clock?”
“—at Rogerson’s club before that—”
“—learn to judge horseflesh one of these days—”
“Best not mention it to Crawford, but I saw his wife last night—”
The whole exchange happened in a moment, and before Lily and Jack could protest, their carriage had clattered off without them. The remaining young men were about to saunter off when Jack planted himself firmly in their path, his walking stick swinging menacingly.
“Not so fast, whelps,” he growled.
The three of them stuttered into silence, staring in confusion at the broad-shouldered figure who was now blocking their way. They did not look like fellows who knew their way around a fight, and they were clearly uneasy when faced with Jack’s intimidating stance.
“You nearly pushed the lady into the street just now,” Jack said, eyeing each of them in turn. “Not to mention that your friend took the lady’s carriage. So what have you to say for yourselves?”
In spite of the fact that they outnumbered him, all three seemed to shrink back, looking at each other to see who would be willing to step forward. It would have made Lily laugh if she hadn’t been so irritated.
“Well?” Jack barked. “Speak up.”
Part of Lily wanted to see him put the dandies firmly in their place. But the other passersby were beginning to stare at the small altercation, and she didn’t want to be involved in a public scene. She stepped forward and laid a hand on Jack’s arm.
“While I should dearly love to see you teach them some manners, Captain, this pack of fools is not worth your time,” she said. She looked them up and down scornfully, and only one of them was able to meet her eyes, though he flushed a fierce red. The other two looked away, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. “And we have somewhere to be.”
“We can summon another carriage for you,” the red-faced one burst out, though he immediately glanced at Jack and fell silent with an audible gulp.
Lily pursed her lips. “That would be acceptable. Quickly, now. I am not in a mood to be kept waiting by ill-mannered boys.”
They were all blushing now, and the one who had spoken darted out into the street to flag down another carriage for hire. While he did so, Jack crossed his arms and glowered, and the other two young men cleared their throats uncomfortably and tried to look anywhere but at Lily. When a carriage at last arrived, Jack handed Lily in and narrowed his eyes at each of the boys in turn before climbing in himself.
“So, what did the new Lady Carroway have to say in her letter?” he asked by way of making conversation as the carriage began to move through the snarl of London traffic.
“Ofelia and Sir Edward are both enjoying their wedding trip
, though she wishes things in France had stabilized in time for them to see sights on the Continent as well. Though we should not expect them home for some weeks yet …”
Lily shared what news she could remember. Jack made interested noises, but his attention was clearly elsewhere; she thought he was still irritated over the loss of their first carriage, until she fell silent at last.
He gave her a look out of the corner of his eye. “He dislikes seeing you in control of your own life,” he said. “Your father, I mean.”
Lily leaned back against the seat of the carriage as she considered his words, then nodded. “He was happy enough to have me out of his house when I married,” she said, shrugging off the familiar tension that tried to worm its way down her spine. Though Jack’s concern touched her, she had long ago stopped expecting things to be easy between her and her father. “Had I returned to his home after Freddy’s death, he would have thought it an imposition. Yet it offends his sense of propriety to see a woman of my age living on her own. Or having friends, apparently.” Lily shook her head. “I am sorry you had to deal with him. Really, he ought to be grateful. I could be a great deal more troublesome and embarrassing if I chose. Encouraging a brawl in the middle of a public street, for example,” she added, shaking her head.
“You should point that out to him,” Jack suggested, looking entirely unrepentant.
Lily’s eyes glinted. “If he makes himself a guest in my house for too long, I very well might.”
CHAPTER 3
“Lady Wyatt, I am sorry not to see Sir Charles—it has been several years since I have had the pleasure. My father sends his best wishes for your marriage, and I offer my own as well. You seem to be most happily settled.”
Lily kept a bland social smile on her face as she spoke, then hid behind her teacup as quickly as possible, hoping the woman in front of her wasn’t astute enough to notice her surprise. Sir Charles was a contemporary of Mr. Pierce’s, and Lily had expected to find the sort of wife so many older men seemed to choose when they remarried: old enough for her parents to consent to the union, young enough not to disrupt her husband’s comfortable routine. Instead, the woman was nearly a decade older than Lily, confident and self-possessed. And she was shockingly beautiful, in the way that only a woman who had left her girlhood behind could be.
Lily, who normally prided herself on her composure, felt tongue-tied. And Jack wasn’t faring much better. He had somehow ended up coming in with her when she gave the Wyatts’ butler her card and now was holding a cold cup of tea in one hand, watching Lady Wyatt in rapt silence as they all sat in the Wyatts’ cozy drawing room. Wimpole Street wasn’t in the most fashionable part of town, but you would never have known it from the inside: the room was elegantly papered in cream and gold, and the large arched windows flooded the space with light. At one side of the room was a writing desk, its cubbies stacked with papers and letters. Just behind the settee Lady Wyatt occupied sat a card table, three unbroken packs of cards waiting on its surface as if a party might begin at any moment.
“I am quite fortunate in my situation,” Lady Wyatt agreed as she served them each a slice of cake. “Though I must ask for your thoughts, Captain, as I am in need of a male perspective. My husband gave me free rein to redecorate this spring, but I am worried that I have perhaps created too feminine a retreat. Be honest.” She leaned forward, her voice dropping as though she were about to impart a great secret, an engaging smile flirting around her lips. “Are there too many tassels?”
Jack laughed. “I am sure your husband would put up with any number of fripperies to enjoy your presence, ma’am.”
“That is a yes, then. I suspected as much.” Lady Wyatt sighed, shaking her head dramatically before her smile returned. She turned to Lily, a perfect hostess who didn’t let either guest sit unacknowledged for too long.
“I know Sir Charles will be sorry to have missed you, and your father as well, Mrs. Adler. He speaks so highly of Mr. Pierce. What a shame we did not know you were in London sooner.” Lady Wyatt’s voice was cordial rather than warm, but Lily didn’t hold that against her—she had never been considered a particularly warm person herself, at least not on first meeting. “We will be leaving within the week. Perhaps we will have the chance to receive Mr. Pierce before that.”
“Perhaps,” Lily agreed vaguely, unwilling to make any promises on his behalf. If Mr. Pierce disapproved of his friend’s marrying again, there was every chance he would avoid seeing them in the country as well. “Will you be glad to finally see your husband’s home in Devonshire?”
Lady Wyatt’s grimace was so slight that Lily might have thought she’d imagined it. “I enjoy town life more, I must admit,” Lady Wyatt said. “But as the city will be rather deserted during the summer, one cannot really object to departing. And I shall be glad for the chance of a real ride again. I confess I do not much enjoy the timid trotting that one must adhere to in Hyde Park.” She took another sip of her tea, then asked politely, “Do you ride, Mrs. Adler?”
“Acceptably, though not skillfully,” Lily admitted. “And being in London does not afford me the opportunity to become more skillful.”
Before Lady Wyatt could answer, there was a small commotion at the door and two young men, talking animatedly, pushed their way into the room. As soon as they realized it was occupied, they stopped and fell silent.
“Beg pardon,” the younger one said, his face and neck flushing red. “We did not realize you had guests, madam.”
Lily glanced at Lady Wyatt, catching the woman’s small sigh of annoyance before she smiled and stood to make introductions.
“Mrs. Adler, Captain Hartley, may I present Sir Charles’s son, Mr. Frank Wyatt, and nephew, Mr. Percy Wyatt.”
Frank stepped forward very gallantly to bow over Lily’s hand. “Surely you remember that at least one of those introductions is not necessary, Lady Wyatt?” he said. He was the elder of the two, around thirty, handsome and sensible looking, with dark hair and broad shoulders. “Mrs. Adler and I are old friends. How do you do?”
She would never have described them as friends. They had been thrown together often, certainly, even when she hadn’t particularly wanted to be. And part of her had always wanted to dislike Frank—so clearly singled out and favored by her father while she was overlooked. But she had never quite managed to do it. He was too friendly, too charming, too at ease with himself and the world. She knew why her father liked him better; he was everything Lily was not. Even now she couldn’t help smiling in response to his grin.
But there had been something dismissive in the way he spoke to Lady Wyatt, as though he was laughing at her for having made a polite introduction when she didn’t need to. So there was an edge of censure to her voice as she replied, “I am very well, Mr. Wyatt, thank you.”
“Oh no, have you found something in me to disapprove of so quickly?” Frank laughed. “Was it because we interrupted your visit? My sincere apologies for being so boorish. I shall have to be on my guard to gain your approval once more. And Captain Hartley, was it?” He turned to bow to Jack, polite and personable in spite of his awkward arrival. “A military man, then? You must be glad to see the end of our action in France, and it came none too soon. Mrs. Adler, I think you have met my cousin Percy, have you not?”
Percy, in contrast to his cousin’s ease and friendliness, was red-faced, the blush clearly visible against his pale skin and light hair. Though taller, he looked younger than his cousin, perhaps only slightly older than Lily’s own seven-and-twenty years. Lily had met him only once before at his uncle’s house, when they were all still children, though she knew he and Frank were close because they had overlapped at school.
He was, however, very familiar. She wouldn’t have recognized him as Sir Charles’s nephew without the introduction, but she knew his face well: Percy Wyatt was the young man who had snatched the carriage from her and Jack less than an hour before.
Lily narrowed her eyes, wondering if he would notice and apologize.
But he didn’t say anything, and she supposed he must have been too preoccupied to spare a glance for the people he had treated so rudely. He bowed to Lily and Jack from the doorway, glancing around the room as though wondering whether he should join them or make his escape.
“Your father had several matters to see to. He left about an hour ago,” Lady Wyatt told Frank as she resumed her seat, gesturing for Lily and Jack to do the same.
“I am amazed that he was persuaded to leave your side,” Frank said, his words so gallant that they were clearly mocking. Lady Wyatt stiffened as Frank, grinning, reached over his stepmother’s shoulder and helped himself to a piece of cake. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he added, “You two have been so inseparable, it is quite charming.”
“Your father is a most charming man,” Lady Wyatt replied, her voice sharp.
Jack glanced at Lily, his brows raised and an uncomfortable smile hovering around the corners of his mouth. Lily gave him a quick warning look, struggling to keep her expression appropriately disinterested and afraid that he would make her laugh.
“Have you any notion of when he will return, ma’am?” Percy asked, finally moving from his position by the door. Ignoring the tension, he crossed to the writing desk at the far side of the room. “Excuse me, Captain Hartley, if you would be so good. I just need to fetch some correspondence from—yes, most obliging, thank you.”
“I am afraid not,” Lady Wyatt said, responding to Percy’s question as he retrieved a leather writing portfolio and paged through it as though looking for something, keeping it angled away from Jack. “Will you two be joining us this evening, or have you plans of your own?”
“Oh, Percy’s got some scrape he wants to drag me along for,” Frank said carelessly as he finished his slice of cake. “You needn’t worry about feeding us; we can always dine at Percy’s lodgings.”
“Haven’t any food there, sad to say,” Percy said.
Silence in the Library Page 2
