“Not Italy,” Lily said vaguely and smiled at Ann’s reflection in the mirror. “I should dress.” She rose from the vanity and removed her dressing gown. “Do you have a beau, Ann?” she asked as the maid held out the gown for her to step into.
Ann’s response was a deep blush.
“I beg your pardon,” Lily said laughingly. “I did not intend to pry.”
Ann smiled sheepishly as Lily put her arms through the cap sleeves. “I do,” she admitted. “But he’s not offered, and I wouldn’t want to speak. . . . You understand, mu’um.”
“Of course.” Lily put her hands on her waist as Ann began to button her in. “Has he kissed you?”
Ann’s fingers stilled on Lily’s back.
“And there I go again, prying into your personal affairs.” Lily cast a smile over her shoulder. “I could use a bit of feminine nattering, really. And I promise to keep your confidence.”
Ann looked down and resumed the buttoning of Lily’s gown. “He has,” she admitted shyly.
“How lovely,” Lily murmured.
Ann finished buttoning her gown and turned back to the wardrobe for Lily’s headdress. “Lord Eberlin seems rather . . . nice,” Ann said awkwardly. “I thought it was kind of him to come and see you when you lay ill.”
“We were acquainted as children,” Lily said.
“As children!” Ann said, clearly surprised by the news.
“Yes.” Lily gazed at her reflection in the full-length mirror. The gown was stunning. Exquisite. She couldn’t imagine how much he’d spent on it. “He is quite different now,” she added absently.
“He seems a bit lonely,” Ann remarked.
“Really? What makes you say so?” Lily looked at Ann as she took the jewelry her maid handed her.
“Oh, I don’t know that he is, mu’um,” Ann said quickly. “I’ve only seen him here at Ashwood. But he has a look about him.”
“What sort of look?”
“Sad,” Ann said with a light shrug. “Seems to carry a weight on his shoulders.”
“I think you are right,” Lily said. “I think he carries a great weight.” One far heavier than any she had ever carried or could conceive of carrying. Her skin tingled; she was suddenly impatient to see Tobin. She was impatient to see how she would feel with their encounter still fresh on her mind, on her skin, in her mouth. In her heart.
“Oh, mu’um,” Ann said with a sigh. “You look like a princess.”
Lily smiled. “Thank you.” She donned a cloak and descended the stairs to the foyer. The Ashwood coach was waiting for her, as was Linford, holding her muff.
“Good evening, Lady Ashwood.” He bowed and held her muff out to her.
“Thank you, Linford. You won’t wait up for me, will you? I shall be quite late.”
“No, my lady.”
“Preston and Mr. Nettle have a picnic basket for the night?”
“Indeed they do, madam, as well as a flask of whiskey to warm them.”
She smiled. “Goodnight, Linford.”
“Goodnight, my lady,” he said and slowly closed the door behind her.
The line of coaches waiting to disgorge their passengers at Tiber Park reached into the road. In anticipation of the slow crawl, rush torches had been lit along the road, and through the coach window, Lily could see lights twinkling in the house and around the grounds. She could not imagine how many candles it must take to light a house as large and grand as Tiber Park.
As they drew closer, Lily could see people piling out of their carriages, shaking out gowns and making last-minute adjustments to neckcloths and headdresses. They came in pairs and threes and fours. Lily braced herself—she would be noticed, arriving alone. A few weeks ago, Lily supposed she might have been intimidated, but not tonight. She was conscious of society’s expectations but not cowed by them. She had found
her footing in an unlikely place, and it was in Tobin.
When her coach pulled to the door, a Tiber Park footman was there instantly to help her down. Lily stepped out and took a moment to arrange the cloak and the skirt of her gown. She said goodnight to Preston and put her hand on the arm the Tiber Park footman offered. They climbed the steps, and as they reached the doors, which were open to allow the steady stream of guests, she saw Tobin standing just inside.
He stood with his legs braced apart, his hand behind his back. He was wearing formal black tails and neckcloth and a black silk waistcoat embroidered with ivory. He looked tall and proud and impossibly handsome as he bent his head to hear the words of a guest. He smiled at whatever the woman said, his tea-brown eyes shining. But as the woman moved on, Tobin turned his head and his gaze landed on Lily.
Her blood rushed at the sight of him. She could see his swallow of surprise and the way his gaze drank her in, raking down to her toes and up again. She could feel the hunger behind his gaze. She smiled, truly happy to see him. But as she stepped inside, his expression shuttered. “Welcome, Lady Ashwood,” he said, bowing his head.
Lily’s gaze narrowed. He would assume this role, would he? The uncaring rake? “Lord Eberlin,” she said, and curtsied. “How do you do?”
“Very well, thank you. I trust you are well?”
“
Very,
” she said pointedly.
His gaze flicked over her again. “May I introduce my sister?” he asked, and looked at the woman standing beside him.
It was funny that in the moment before Lily laid eyes on her, she would have said she could not recall Charity Scott’s face. But in truth, she recognized Charity the moment she saw her. The little girl with the pale blonde hair had grown into a honey-haired, beautiful woman with pale amber eyes, as comely as her brother was handsome. And like Tobin, a hint of weariness rimmed her eyes.
There was another similarity to Tobin, as well—Miss Scott looked at her with the same expression of contempt Tobin had shown her at their first meeting after fifteen years.
Oh, no. You will not lay the blame of your father’s behavior at my feet, too.
“Charity.” Lily put out her hand. Charity glanced at it but did not take it. “How long it has been. I am so very happy to see you well.”
“Yes,” Charity said as her gaze drifted over Lily. “It has been a veritable lifetime since last we met,
Lady
Ashwood.” She made no effort to further engage Lily. In fact, Charity looked past Lily, to whoever was next. Lily had been dismissed.
“I hope that we might have an opportunity to speak later,” Lily said, forcing Charity to look at her once more. She smiled. “I am certain we must have much to say to one another.”
Waves of resentment seemed to roll off Charity. “I can’t imagine what that might be.”
Lily kept smiling. “It is good to see you well, Charity. I mean that quite sincerely.” She glanced back at Tobin, but he was greeting the couple behind her, his expression inscrutable.
Her cheeks blazing with ignominy, Lily walked on with her head held high.
In line once again, she handed her cloak to a footman. She was hardly aware of anyone around her; she was aware only that her heart was racing with anger, indignation, and crushing disappointment. But she was smiling when she paused at the entrance to the ballroom for the butler to announce her.
“The Lady Ashwood,” he called in a booming voice, and Lily glided into the room just as she and Keira had practiced when they were girls, when they’d pretended to be invited to grand balls exactly like this one. She nodded politely at acquaintances, kept her smile serene, and was grateful when Daria Babcock appeared at her side.
“Your ladyship, you are a star among some rather dull planets,” Miss Babcock gushed as she admired Lily’s gown.
“How kind of you,” Lily said. “I am happy to see a friend among so many unfamiliar faces.”
“Yet there is hardly anyone about, is there?” Miss Babcock asked with a wry smile.
Lily glanced around. Miss Babcock was right—the
room was not as crowded as one might have expected.
“They are all from Sussex,” Miss Babcock said and linked her arm with Lily’s. “No one of any importance has come down from town.”
“No?” Lily said curiously, studying the crowd a bit closer.
“No one, on account of his title and occupation,” Miss Babcock added sagely. “They do not wish to be associated with him.”
How was it that Daria Babcock seemed to know the things she always seemed to know?
Miss Babcock was smiling prettily as she eyed the crowd shrewdly. “I heard a footman say there were not more than one hundred people in attendance this evening,” she said idly. “Yet he invited three hundred.”
Lily didn’t know what to make of that news, but she found it disconcerting. Regardless of how she felt about Tobin, she was appalled by the strictures society placed on men like him. What did he have to do to be deemed acceptable?
“Well?” Miss Babcock said, playfully nudging Lily with her shoulder. “Did you make the acquaintance of the count’s sister?”
“I did,” Lily said, and could feel her cheeks warming.
“She’s quite pretty,” Miss Babcock said. “I’ve seen neither hide nor hair of her daughter,” she added, as if she’d expected the girl to be paraded through the crowd so they all might have a look. “I find it unbearably
sad that Miss Scott will never be accepted into proper society.”
Lily tore her gaze away from the magnificent decorations and the crystal snowflakes overhead. “She is here at this ball, is she not? That would make her accepted to me.”
“Well, of course she is
here,
” Miss Babcock said, her fingers fluttering against her dangling earring. “We in Hadley Green have forgiven the Scotts their scandal, for they’ve done so well for themselves and they’ve been quite generous. But in
London,
well, that’s entirely different.” At Lily’s continued silence, Miss Babcock shrugged. “There is the circumstance of her brother’s title and occupation. And if that were not enough to warrant it, Miss Scott has a bastard child. It hardly speaks well of her.”
That was precisely the sort of thinking that could drive Lily to madness. Society would condone illicit affairs as long as they were undertaken with discretion, but God forbid a woman should bear a child as a result of it. “Aren’t the decorations magnificent?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Oh, indeed!” Miss Babcock said with great enthusiasm. “I understand that it will actually snow this evening—can you imagine it? At some point, it will fall on the dancers. Is that not divine?”
“Lady Ashwood! You have come!” Lily recognized Mrs. Morton’s voice and turned to see her hurrying
through the crowd, tugging Mr. Morton along behind her.
“Good evening, Mrs. Morton.”
“I am so glad to see you,” Mrs. Morton said as she dipped a quick curtsy. “I said to Mrs. Ogle that I was certain you would attend, for you do not seem the sort to be bothered much by propriety, but Mrs. Ogle was convinced that you would not attend without proper escort. And I was right.” She smiled broadly, leaving Lily speechless. “Did you tell her the news, Daria?”
“What news?” Lily asked, fairly certain she would not like whatever the news was.
“Oh, but we were
thrilled
to see Mr. Robert Anders present this evening,” Mrs. Morton said. “Have you made his acquaintance?”
Lest these women had forgotten, Lily had not made a lot of acquaintances, as everyone had treated her as if she’d had leprosy when she’d first arrived at Ashwood. “I have not.”
“No? Then surely your cousin made favorable mention of him,” Mrs. Morton said.
“Madam, you will do us all a great service if you will stop with your nattering before you say something we shall all regret.” Mr. Morton muttered the words in a manner that suggested he’d said them so many times that he could say them and scarcely be aware that he had.
“My cousin did not mention him,” Lily said pleasantly, but privately she wondered how many things Keira had not thought to tell her.
“Well!” Mrs. Morton squared her shoulders and her expectations. “I am pleased to tell you that he was
quite
taken with your cousin—that is, before the, ah . . . the event,” she said carefully, referring to Keira’s fraud. “It happily occurred to me that as he was taken with her, and that he has five thousand pounds a year, that he might very well be taken with you, as well!” She smiled brightly, as if this declaration was in no way ill mannered or even slightly humiliating. She actually seemed to think she was bestowing a kindness on Lily.
Mr. Morton looked appalled.
“At least he has come tonight,” Miss Babcock said. “And of all of them here, he is the only one truly worthy of your consideration.”
Lily hardly knew what to say to such blatant matchmaking. It seemed to be the only thing that interested these women.
“I thought Eberlin was worthy, in spite of what Lady Horncastle said,” Mrs. Morton said with a roll of her eyes. “Think how lovely it would be to have them both here at Tiber Park! Alas, Eberlin is as good as gone to London.”
“I have not heard he is to London,” Miss Babcock said.
“Daria, you were standing just beside me when he
said he’d leave at Christmas with his sister and likely would not return for a year or more.”