Page 13

Lily stepped down from the carriage and onto the gravel outside Penelope’s stately Tudor home, her heart thudding with anticipation for the evening ahead.

She’d arranged for one of their neighbors, a kindly old widow named Mrs. Fairleigh, to watch over the inn tonight, and after she’d bathed, dressed her hair and donned her favorite green silk dress, she and Gran set off for Penelope’s house in the carriage she’d sent to collect them.

“It seems rather silly to use a carriage for so short a distance,” Gran said, as she stepped down from the vehicle with the help of a footman. “We could easily have walked here.”

Lily smiled at her, admiring how well she looked in her burgundy velvet dress with the silk floral shawl she’d draped around her shoulders.

“Penelope is so fond of you, Gran,” she said. “Let her spoil you tonight, hm?”

Looping arms, the pair headed for the front door, their steps crunching softly as Lily’s pulse kicked up, her belly fluttering. She was looking forward to the evening, but she was nervous, too, although she wasn’t sure why.

No, that wasn’t true. She knew precisely why.

It was because of Frederick.

She had seen plenty of him these last two days at the inn, but they’d exchanged few words, though not for lack of trying on her part. Frederick was never cold or unkind, but he was certainly keeping his distance from her, and she suspected Penelope was to blame for it.

At least, she hoped Penelope was to blame.

Her friend had made it clear she wanted Frederick to stay away from Lily, in some misguided attempt at saving her virtue or her heart or both, and it seemed that Frederick was trying to respect his sister’s wishes.

But no one had bothered to ask her what she wanted. And what she wanted was to spend time with Frederick, get to know him better, enjoy as much of his company as she could before he left.

And she wanted to kiss him again. She wanted several more kisses, real kisses, thorough kisses.

Kisses that might lead to nudity.

The wicked thought sent heat through her body, and that was the moment the front door swung open.

“Here you are at last!” Penelope said, plopping a fist on one hip. “I was beginning to believe you were waylaid by highwaymen, but then I remembered this is Little Bilberry and nothing interesting ever happens here.”

Lily laughed. “So sorry to have kept you waiting. I had no idea we were so late.”

“You’re not,” a voice said from behind Penelope. “You’re right on time, but my sister here is a worrier.”

Frederick stepped into view then, his smile wry, and Lily’s heart skipped a beat when his eyes met hers.

It was a silly reaction, really, considering she’d seen him only a handful of hours ago, but it could not be helped.

Not with the way he looked in his dark blue tailcoat, slate gray trousers and silver waistcoat that set off his light eyes and dark hair to perfection.

He was breathtaking, and Lily tried her best not to stare as she followed her grandmother into the entrance hall, but she knew she was failing miserably.

She hadn’t seen him dressed this way since her visit to Penelope’s house last week, and as much as she enjoyed seeing him in workman’s clothes, he looked positively gorgeous tonight in his elegant dinner attire.

“I am not a worrier, Freddy,” Penelope protested with a swish of her peach chiffon skirts. “I was eager for our guests to arrive.”

Lily bit back a smile. Penelope was most definitely a worrier.

“Well, your guests have arrived, and we are very glad to be here,” Gran said. “Thank you for having us tonight.”

The foursome filed into the drawing room for pre-dinner refreshments, and Lily stole another glance at Frederick, only to find him looking at her.

He smiled, lopsided and slightly abashed, as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “You look beautiful,” he said, his voice low, like they were sharing secrets.

“Thank you,” she said, inordinately shy, though it was precisely what she’d hoped to hear. “So do you.”

His smile widened and he looked to be on the verge of a reply, but then he noticed his sister watching them and whatever he’d been about to say went unuttered.

“You look lovely this evening, as well, Mrs. Grayling,” he said instead, as he waited for the women to sit before claiming the chair beside his sister’s. “Is that a new shawl you’re wearing?”

“Oh, no,” Gran said, smoothing her hands over the fringed floral silk. “It is positively ancient, but I suppose it still looks new because I seldom have cause to wear it.” A tender smile turned her lips. “It was a gift from my husband on our thirtieth wedding anniversary.”

“It’s beautiful, Mrs. Grayling,” Penelope said with a smile.

“Thank you,” Gran replied. “And thank you for giving me a reason to wear it again. And an opportunity to spend the evening with your brother. He’s been a great help around the inn these last few days, and I must admit, I’ve grown quite fond of him.”

As have I, Lily thought. As have I.

“ The feeling is mutual, ma’am,” Frederick said with a grin, and Lily drank in the sight of that smile, and the sincere affection in it as he gazed at her grandmother.

She longed for him to look at her like that—to look at her at all—but he didn’t, and the rest of the evening was spent much the same.

He wasn’t ignoring her, precisely, but he was still keeping her at arm’s length, and she didn’t know what to do about it.

She tried to engage him in conversation at dinner, and while he answered all her questions and was unfailingly polite, his comments were brief and to the point and he did not linger with her under the watchful eye of his sister.

Frustrated with him and Penelope both, Lily was almost grateful when her grandmother announced it was time for them to leave.

“It’s been a lovely evening,” Gran said, rising from the sofa in the drawing room, “but we really must get ourselves to bed. Mr. Darrington, may I impose upon you to walk us home?”

“Oh, Mrs. Grayling,” Penelope interjected, as the rest of the party stood, “do let me arrange for the carriage to take you home. It is much too late for walking—”

“Nonsense,” Gran interrupted with a wave of her hand. “It is a fine evening, and an after-dinner walk will do us all some good.”

Although she looked less than thrilled with the development, Penelope made no further arguments, and a few minutes later, after thank-yous had been expressed and farewells exchanged, Lily and her grandmother set off for home with Frederick as their escort.

The moon was bright and nearly full, the night air quiet save for the rustling of the trees and an occasional owl hooting for its supper.

There was a bit of a chill in the air, Lily observed, snuggling into her wool knit shawl, but Gran was right.

It was a fine evening for a walk. Especially with a handsome young man at one’s side.

“Thank you for escorting us home, Frederick,” she said in a low voice, her gaze on the dirt path stretched before them.

Gran had walked ahead, claiming she had talked quite enough for one evening, and for the first time all night, Lily finally found herself alone with Frederick.

“It’s my pleasure,” he said, and the words sounded genuine if a little subdued.

“It was a lovely evening.” She cleared her throat. “The meal was excellent.”

“It was. My sister’s cook is a culinary master.”

Lily bit her bottom lip, her stomach twisting at the apparent loss of comfortable conversation between them. She wished she knew what to say to get it back.

“Are you warm enough, Gran?” she called out. “Do you need my shawl?”

Her grandmother glanced back over her shoulder and gave Lily a smile, her gray hair shining silver beneath the moonlight. “No, thank you, dear. I’m feeling just fine.”

Lily watched Gran as she settled back into her solitary walk, all the while scouring her mind for something to say to draw Frederick from his silence.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to.

“Your grandmother is a jewel,” Frederick said softly, his gaze meeting hers as he clasped his hands at his back. “You’re lucky to have her.”

“I know,” Lily agreed, curling her fingers into her shawl. “I don’t know what I’ll do when she’s gone. She’s more like a mother to me than my real mother has ever been.”

Hyacinth Grayling might have brought her into this world, but she’d never been much of a mother to her. She was too frivolous, too self-involved to give the sort of attention and affection her daughters had yearned for when they were young.

Lily learned long ago that yearning for anything from Hyacinth Grayling was an exercise in futility.

With Gran, though, it was an entirely different story.

“She took me in without question,” she said, gazing ahead at her grandmother’s slight figure. “After life as I knew it fell completely apart, all I could think to do was run away. And Gran let me run to her.”

Frederick was watching her with frank curiosity, but he held silent, seemingly content to accept as much or as little as she chose to share with him. It was this that made her decide to share it all.

“I was betrothed, you see. It was a union arranged by our parents when we were children, but although I had no say in it, I was glad to be marrying Stephen.” She looked down at her dark green beaded slippers, still pretty, if a few years past fashionable.

“I suppose I had grown used to the idea, and I did genuinely care for him.” A mirthless smile curved her lips. “I even thought I loved him once.”

“But you didn’t?” Frederick’s words were low and sharp, and when she looked up, she found his gaze locked on her face.

“No, I didn’t. But that did not lessen the hurt I felt when he told me he couldn’t marry me because he was in love with my sister.”

Surprise flickered in his eyes, followed by sympathy, and Lily turned away from it, her skin suddenly tight, prickling with the discomfort of vulnerability.

A breeze kicked up, cooling her flushed cheeks, and she let her eyes fall closed for a moment, focusing on the press of the packed dirt beneath her feet.

“I’m sorry, Lily. That could not have been easy for you.”

She tried for a casual shrug, but her lips were pinched, and she had to work to keep her voice even. “They were married last year. I...did not attend the wedding.”

His only response was a low hum with his throat, one Lily could not interpret. Was he simply at a loss for words, or did he censure her decision?

She’d certainly censured herself often enough. Why shouldn’t he?

“I cannot be happy for them,” she admitted. “I’ve tried, but I can’t do it. I suppose that makes me a terrible person.”

“No,” he said quietly. “Only human.”

It was exactly what she’d hoped he would say, even if she didn’t entirely believe it. True, she had suffered a great disappointment, and she knew the chances were low that she would ever have the loving husband and beautiful children she craved.

But two years had passed since that awful day, and Rose was her only sister. Wouldn’t anyone else have forgiven them by now? Wouldn’t anyone else want them to be happy?

Lily sighed, tugging at the ends of her shawl in frustration. “I don’t even want Stephen anymore. I don’t want the life I would have had with him, and yet, I’m still so angry with him. With them.”

She kicked a pebble with the toe of her slipper, sending it scrabbling up the path like a startled jack rabbit.

“That’s perfectly understandable, Lily. Of course you feel betrayed by them. They—”

“That isn’t it, though,” she interrupted. “I don’t feel betrayed. Not anymore. I feel... fleeced . Robbed of my one and only chance at having a family of my own.”

God above, had she just said that out loud? Had she just admitted her deepest, most painful secret to a man she’d only known for a sennight?

She was supposed to be enticing him to spend time with her, not frightening him away with talk of regrets and past mistakes.

“I’m sorry,” she said sheepishly. “You don’t want to hear any of this. Please forgive my wayward tongue.”

Frederick smiled at her and shook his head. “There is no need for apologies.”

But that was all he said, and then a pensive silence fell between them, as thick as fog. Lily pressed her lips together to keep from filling it and turned her gaze up to the moon above.

Fortunately, the torment lasted only another few minutes before they arrived at the inn and Mrs. Fairleigh met them at the front door.

“Thank you so much for watching the inn tonight,” Gran said to the woman. “Everything went well, I hope?”

“Oh, yes. No trouble whatsoever, and I enjoyed the change of scenery,” Mrs. Fairleigh said, a warm smile plumping her perpetually rosy cheeks.

A few minutes later, the woman left them, heading off in the direction of her cottage which was just up the road from the inn.

“Thank you again for walking us home, Mr. Darrington,” Gran said to Frederick. “I am going to bed now. Lily, will you lock up?”

“Of course, Gran. Sleep well, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

She watched her grandmother slip inside and then turned to Frederick with a smile. “Well,” she said brightly. “Good night. And thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Lily. Good night.”

He turned to leave, and Lily settled on the bench beside the door, reluctant to turn in just yet and see the evening draw to an end.

“You’re not going inside?”

She looked up to find Frederick still there, watching her, and she shook her head. “Not just yet. I think I’ll sit here and enjoy the night air a little while longer.”

He stood there, utterly still, his expression serious, as if he was looking at every angle of a thoroughly tricky problem.

And then he took a step towards her. “May I join you?”

Surprised, she cocked her head to one side. “Your sister will wonder where you are.”

He nodded. “Yes. She will.”

Lily hesitated, holding his gaze, enjoying the subtle shift of power. She’d wanted more time with him, yes, but she couldn’t resist the urge to make him squirm a bit.

Childish?

Absolutely.

But she’d never claimed to be perfect, and even good girls had their pride.

Finally, silently, she extended a hand toward the empty seat beside her.