Page 99 of Marry in Scandal

“Tomorrow afternoon? Now, where—oh, I know!—there’s a new tea shop just opened and it has the most divine cakes. Now, we’ll need to go in a carriage, and”—she gave Lily an apologetic look—“I’m afraid my husband won’t let me have the carriage, so perhaps you could pick me up in yours, and I’ll direct your driver. Will that be all right?”

“Yes, fine,” Lily said wearily. Already she was regretting it.

Sylvia stood. “Lovely. Then I’ll see you at two. Don’t be late now.”

• • •

The tea shop was very pretty, situated in a street of elegant shops, opposite a large hotel called the Excelsior. It was a convenient location for people who’d been shopping to stop for tea and cakes and other refreshments. With gleaming tiled floors in a checkerboard pattern, a large, elegant bay window facing into the street and charming wrought-iron tables and chairs, it looked very appealing. If their cakes lived up to the rest of the place, she was sure the new business would succeed.

They ordered tea and cakes, which came quickly and were delicious. They drank, ate cakes and chatted. Lily was in the middle of telling Sylvia a story about the refurbishment of Galbraith House—every day a fresh discovery—when she realized that Sylvia wasn’t listening. She was staring over Lily’s shoulder at something out in the street.

“I don’t believe it,” Sylvia muttered as if to herself.

Lily, her back to the window, turned curiously.

“No, no, don’t look!” Sylvia exclaimed, putting out her hand to stop Lily. “It’s nothing, really nothing. Sorry, Lily, I was distracted for a minute. Tell me, what did the workmen do to the screen again?” She leaned forward with a look of interest so patently false, Lily couldn’t stop herself. She turned and looked out the window.

There was nothing of note, just a few people walking along the street. “What is it?”

“Nothing, no one. Turn away, Lily. I don’t want you to be cross with me again. Here, have a cake.”

But Lily’s curiosity was well and truly hooked. She turned and examined the people in the street again. Most were hurrying along purposefully, in twos or threes. The only single person was a plump, very pretty young woman in a crimson coat, lingering on the other side of the road. She seemed to be waiting for someone.

“I didn’t know she’d be there, I promise you, Lily.” Sylvia moaned.

“Who is she?”

“Your husband’s—the one they say is your husband’s—oh, no!” She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to.

Edward was walking briskly along the road, approaching the hotel from the opposite direction. As he neared the hotel entrance, the young woman brightened and began to walk toward him.

As Lily watched she said something to Edward and held out her hand. In dull disbelief, she saw her husband take the woman’s hand. She swayed toward him, and he slipped his arm around her waist and escorted her tenderly up the steps and into the hotel.

The door closed behind them. In the tea shop there was a long silence.

Eventually Sylvia spoke. “I swear I didn’t know—”

“I don’t believe you.” Lily made a weary gesture. “Just go, Sylvia. Get out. You’ve shown me what you wanted me to see, so please, just go—and don’t bother trying to talk to me again.”

Sylvia stood. “You’re angry with me when you should be angry with him. I had to show you. He meets her here every week. So that’s what your precious husband is worth.” The vitriol and smug satisfaction in her voice were horribly blatant.

Lily said with quiet, hard-won dignity, “I don’t know why you hate me, Sylvia, but I can see now that you do. Rose was right about you. You don’t care about me or my marriage—you brought me here to see me hurt andhumiliated. Leave, please. I don’t ever want to see or speak to you again.”

Sylvia flounced out. Lily called for another pot of tea and sat there, watching the hotel entrance opposite. Her brain was numb. The tea turned cold. Edward didn’t come out.

Lily paid the bill and summoned the carriage. What to do now?

Chapter Eighteen

Angry people are not always wise.

—JANE AUSTEN,PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

Walton drove Lily around the park a few times while she thought about what to do. She needed to talk to someone—but who?

She couldn’t tell Rose and George about what had just happened. They’d been against her marrying Edward, and they’d be vigorous in their condemnation, both of Edward and of Lily’s choice in marrying him.

And Rose would say that she’d said all along that Sylvia was a nasty cow—and then George would remind them that cows were lovely creatures and then—Lily stopped on a hiccup. She was close to tears.