My Fair Lily (36 page)

“The guests are strolling in,” Dillie said with annoying glee. “I don’t see Ewan yet.”

Lily pursed her lips to hide her dismay. “I doubt he’ll come.” After all, he’d offered to marry her and she’d kicked him to the curb. He was a proud man and her words must have bruised him.

“And I’m sure he will.” She nudged her toward the harp. “Do your best.”

“I’ll try.” It wasn’t only that she had no musicality in her bones—which she didn’t—but her hands were sore, and if it weren’t
for the gloves she wore, everyone would have noticed the little cuts on her palms. She’d have to take the gloves off when she played, but her injuries would be sufficiently hidden from everyone’s view while she ran her fingers across the harp strings. In any event, most guests would be turned away and wincing as she played.

“Uh-oh. There’s Corky MacCorkstopper,” Dillie whispered. “Bet she’s surprised to find you here.”

Lily tried to tamp down her alarm. Goodness, she’d managed to hold her own against some nasty-looking blackguards. But none of them was the woman Ewan had almost married. “Crumpets, what shall I do? She’s coming straight toward us.”

“Straight toward you, to be precise, with Lady Finchley on her
heels. Now everyone’s gawking. They’ve all heard the rumors, of course.”
Dillie grinned. “When she stops in front of you, punch her in the
nose. Draw blood. If you won’t do it, I will.”

“No wonder you’re the evil twin. You’re not helping.” Though the idea had merit. She had a better one, an idea that would take care of two problems. She would smash the harp over Caledonia’s head, hopefully breaking it—the harp, that is, not Caledonia’s head. She wasn’t that bloodthirsty.

“You leave that harp alone.” Dillie put a hand on her elbow. “I know what you’re thinking, and you can put it from your mind
immediately. We’re going through with this recital.”

“What trick is this?” Caledonia said with a hiss, or so it sounded to Lily. The girl was a viper, after all. A wicked Scottish viper.

Lily drew in a breath, trying to remain as calm as possible in this
awkward situation. “Good evening, Lady Finchley. I’m sorry, but I
don’t know what
trick
your friend is referring to.”

“Of course you don’t, you sweet girl. The rumors of your ruination at the hands of Lord Mortimer’s son are a bit of malicious
gossip obviously started by a callow, calculating individual who’s simply
jealous of you.” She stared pointedly at Caledonia as she spoke. “I was assured you would not appear. Yet here you are, looking quite lovely.”

“Why, thank you.” Lily tossed her an innocent smile, relieved that Callie had made such a monumental mistake, a novice debater’s mistake. It was one thing to claim she’d been ruined—that juicy
tidbit
was readily devoured by the elite of society. But to also predict she
would miss this evening, clearly proved false by her presence here, undermined all of Callie’s previous assertions.

“I never believed those ridiculous rumors,” Lady Finchley continued. “No doubt, this callow person will soon be leaving London, hopefully never to be heard from again. Don’t you heartily agree, Miss MacCorkindale?”

“I do not. She was taken. Abducted and ruined! I don’t know how she got back here, but I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“I don’t think so,” a stern voice said from behind Caledonia.

Lily had been too distraught to notice Ewan’s appearance, but there he was, as magnificent as ever, freshly shaven and impeccably
attired in black tie and tails. The perfect, proper English gentleman,
except for that gleam in his eyes and the Scottish swagger in his stance. He was better than an English gentleman. He was Ewan. “Good evening, Miss Farthingale. I look forward to your harp recital. I hear
your talent is quite... er, unusual.” Lily melted at his smile.

Their brief but intimate exchange only served to rile Callie. “You’re trying to protect her. It won’t work. I’ll make sure everyone learns the truth.”

“Enough, Callie,” he said, the ice in his tone obvious to all. “I can assure you, if there ever was a scheme afoot to ruin Lily’s reputation, and you were involved in any way, the consequences will be
severe.”

Lady Finchley thought it important to express her opinion as well. “The Farthingales have close connections to the Prince Regent. I’m sure he’d personally mete out the punishment.”

“Can’t you see he’s lying? They’re all lying!”

Caledonia’s uncle joined them. “Enough, Callie. You’re only getting yourself into deeper trouble. As Laird Carnach said, anyone
involved in such a scheme will have their heads hung on Traitor’s Gate for the ravens to scavenge. I wouldn’t like to see yours up there, and it will most certainly end up there if you persist.”

Caledonia blanched.

He cast Lily a tender glance. “Glad to see the rumors are
completely unfounded, lass.” Then he led his niece away.

Lily let out the breath she’d been holding.

“Horrid creature,” Lady Finchley whispered once the pair were out of earshot.

“Indeed,” Ewan muttered. “I wonder that we were ever friends. Archie’s a good chap, though.”

“The best,” Lily said with enthusiasm, for he’d obviously known the truth and kept it to himself.

Ewan arched an eyebrow. “Not better than me, I hope.”

“What do you mean?” Lily was uncertain what he wished to hear from her. At the inn, she had told him that she loved him, and
he’d said nothing in return. She wasn’t going to say it again in front of others.
No, she’d had enough public humiliation for one evening. She wanted
to run to Lady Finchley’s library and hide out there all evening. Those musty books were looking better and better. Lady Finchley had hundreds in her library.

Dillie squealed. “He’s trying to tell you that he loves you.”

“But he doesn’t.” She let out a pained laugh. “Ewan, stop this
now. Tell my sister that you don’t love me.”

All eyes turned to him. Lady Finchley’s were as wide as eyes could possibly be without popping out of one’s head.

One. Two. Three. Four. Ewan said nothing, just grinned.

Lady Finchley gasped and took off at a sprint, neither her
advanced age nor impractical evening slippers holding her back.

“No! He’s jesting. Please don’t—” But it was too late. Their
hostess
was busy spreading this latest embarrassing rumor through the crowd.
“You see, this is why I hate these functions.” She frowned at Ewan.
“Why didn’t you deny it?”

“Because it’s time I stopped acting like a Scottish baboon. Lass, I’d like a private word with you after the recital. Afterward, if you’ve found it in your heart to forgive me for what I did to you at the inn—
or rather,
what I failed to
say
to you at the inn—I’d like a word with your parents.” He kissed her softly on the cheek, and then turned and walked away to take a seat beside his grandfather in the front row.

“Holy crumpets,” Dillie muttered, “what happened at the inn?”

Something magical.
They had never held back secrets from each other, but she couldn’t reveal this one yet, not even to Dillie. “Never mind. The guests are taking their seats. Let’s just muddle through
this evening.”

EWAN SAT BESIDE
his grandfather and Meggie, eager for the recital to begin. Not that he wished to hear the insipid pieces that passed for music in refined society. He didn’t. Nor was he eager to
hear Lily’s
harp playing since everyone had warned him she was execrable. William Farthingale sat on the other side of Meggie, leaning too close
to her for Ewan’s liking, but he said nothing. Who was he to admonish the Farthingale lad for sitting too close to Meggie?

He, arrogant Scot that he was, had ruined Lily.

William leaned over to grin at him. “To think, a cat gave up its guts for those harp strings.”

Meggie giggled. “That’s an awful thing to say about your cousin.”

William shrugged. “Lily knows I’m only teasing. She’s perfect in every other way.”

Ewan had been warned, but he wasn’t prepared for how truly
awful her playing was. Dillie deserved a medal for her patience. In truth, Dillie seemed not in the least perturbed by her sister’s
missteps. She smiled at every missed note. Ewan never realized there were so many notes to miss.

He didn’t care. Lily was alive. Lily was back to her cringe
worthy,
imperfect harp-playing form. All was right with the world... he hoped.
She hadn’t agreed yet to marry him. He’d work on that problem tonight.

When she’d finished and taken a bow to polite applause, Ewan drew
her aside. She smiled at him, that warm, open-hearted smile he didn’t deserve. “I was horrid, wasn’t I? Are your ears bleeding?”

“Numb and bleeding,” he replied with a feigned shudder. “I’m not complaining. Your sister’s quite accomplished.”

“I know, but she hates to perform on her own. She’s a coward at heart.”

So was he, but not anymore. He led her past the crowd and was
about to draw her into Lady Finchley’s library when the Duke of Edgeware intercepted them. He looked worried. “Those crates of
gunpowder are missing,” he said, following them into the library
where they could all speak without being overheard.

Ewan would have sorely liked to have had this time alone with
Lily, but knew Edgeware’s news was important. “The ones
numbered one, two, and three?”

Edgeware nodded. “They were stolen with the others. I stopped by Lord Mortimer’s house to question him further, and—”

Ewan’s arm tightened around Lily’s waist, not liking that pause one bit. “And?”

“Ashton’s father is also missing.”

Lily gasped, took a step back to burrow against Ewan’s chest. “Has he been abducted? Your Grace, what’s happened to him?”

“I think he ran off on his own. His staff appears to be genuinely concerned about his disappearance, but they don’t suspect foul play.
They say he was distraught and raging about Lily and the Royal Society. How was he when you and George spoke to him yesterday?”

Ewan shook his head. “Odd. He acted as if he thought Lily had eloped with Ashton, but he was eager to end our discussion and go back to bed. I haven’t spoken to him since. No one has. George and the Bow Street runners only made it back to London a short while ago. They’re making arrangements to hand Ashton and his villains over to the authorities as we speak.”

“Somehow, the old man got wind of what was happening. The truth about what his son has done must have set him off.” Edgeware ran a hand through his hair. “Or perhaps he isn’t as innocent as we first believed.”

Lily glanced at Ewan. “He’s a frail, old man. What harm can he do?”

Ewan could think of a dozen dangerous possibilities, but didn’t
wish to alarm Lily any more than she was already. Every way he figured it, Lily ended up the one in danger. “I don’t know, but I’m
not leaving your side until he’s found.”

“I’ll watch Dillie,” Edgeware said. “She’s your identical twin, easily mistaken for you. In truth, I think Ashton must have been
shadowing her the other night. She was wearing your spectacles, pretending to
be you. When I approached, she seemed relieved.” He winced. “She’s
never happy to see me. She thinks I’m an idiot. However, she asked me to stay close because she had an uneasy feeling that someone was watching her. It went away once you appeared and made the spectacles switch.”

Lily put a hand to her throat. “I put Dillie at risk.”

Ewan let out a soft growl. “You didn’t. Ashton’s to blame. He’s deranged, and so it seems, is his father. I mean it, Lily. I’m not letting you out of my sight. Not ever.”

“Is that your arrogant way of asking me to marry you?”

She was frowning again. At him. “I’ve already asked you. I’ve been waiting for your answer.”

“You never asked. You simply assumed.”

Edgeware’s eyes widened. He began to back out of the room. “I’ve heard more of this conversation than I ought to have. In any event, your family must be warned of the continuing danger. I’ll take care of it.” He left the library, closing the door behind him.

“Damn it, Lily.” Ewan raked a hand through his hair.

She held him back when he started to turn away, but he only meant to peer out the window to see if the old bastard was lurking outside. “Honestly, Ewan. You can’t expect him to be hiding among
Lady
Finchley’s bluebells and primroses. He’s old and frail, and moves with the speed of a snail. You’re using him as an excuse to avoid facing the truth about us. I need my answers. You never asked me to marry you.”

His collar suddenly felt as if it had grown too tight. What was wrong with him? This was Lily, the woman who’d conquered his
heart. “You know how I feel about you.”

“You’re right. I do. But perhaps you don’t. You’re still afraid to admit it.”

“This isn’t the conversation I planned to have with you.”

She took a deep breath and sighed. “Then tell me what you
intended to say.”

He thought of his grandfather, that old man crying in his arms, afraid he was going to die sad and alone. Ewan was much like him, and about to make the same prideful mistake that would cost him Lily. No, not if he could help it. He drew her into his arms. “What I wished to say to you is that I want to spend the rest of my days with you. I can’t imagine my days without you in my life, or my nights without you in my arms. I know our marriage won’t be easy for you, for I’ll be taking you far from your family. But we’ll work it out. I promise. Your family is welcome to visit us whenever they like, and welcome to stay as long as they wish.”