Love According To Lily (5 page)

And it had been very different. She was a woman now, and she had been flirting with him.

Still trying to ignore the fatigue that seemed slightly more relentless tonight, he ran a hand through his hair and promised himself he would be more careful next time and try not to be distracted by the way Lily looked. She was still “little Lily,” and she was not someone he could toy with. If he did, James would likely slice him up into cubes and feed him to the dogs for breakfast.

At least that would bring a swift end to things.

Chapter 5

“I don’t understand it.” Lily said to Sophia later that evening after the dancing had begun. “He flirted with me earlier. He implied he was going to dance with me, but he’s been ignoring me completely. This is even worse than it was before. He’s never outright avoided me before. Maybe I was too forward.”

Lily and Sophia walked around the perimeter of the green saloon, where the guests were dancing informally to a polka. There were no dance cards this evening. It was an intimate party and all the guests knew each other too well for such formalities.

Whitby wasn’t dancing, however. He was leaning against the wall in the corner, talking to some of the gentlemen.

“Perhaps,” Sophia said, “he’s avoiding you because he did feel something and he’s uncomfortable with it. Think of his friendship with James, after all. Whitby would surely have some reservations about flirting with his best friend’s younger sister.”

Lily sighed heavily. “Then why am I even bothering? If he could never do that to James, then I—”

“Oh, Lily, don’t give up yet. You were so happy and excited earlier. Something obviously sparked between the two of you. He just needs to get used to the idea and come around to see that it doesn’t have to be impossible. If he wants you badly enough, he can make it happen. James would not be unreasonable. Remember, you have me on your side.”

“Whitby doesn’t look like he wants me very badly right now. Look at him. He hasn’t even glanced in this direction. He looks completely bored.”

Sophia looked at Whitby. She had no answer.

Just then, Lord Richard approached. “Lady Lily, would you care to take to the floor?”

Lily had to shift her thinking and force herself to forget her disappointment. She smiled warmly. “I’d be delighted.”

He led her into the middle of the room and they skipped off into the bouncing insanity of the polka. Everyone was laughing and howling, as it was past midnight and significant amounts of wine and brandy had been consumed.

The dance ended and Lily laughed with Richard, both of them out of breath. “We almost knocked your father over just now,” she said. “I thought we were surely going to collide.”

“Me, too. What a night. I can’t say I’ve ever had so much fun. The duchess certainly knows how to entertain.”

“There was a time,” Lily replied, “when our shooting parties were frightfully dull. That was before James married Sophia. When Mother was in charge.”

They both looked over at Marion, who was watching from the corner with the other ladies her age.

“Does she mind how things have changed?” Richard asked.

“She did at one time, but she’s accepted it now. Although she might not be completely comfortable with it. The ladies look rather displeased, don’t they?”

Lord Richard smiled and turned his back on them. “Your mother looks like she’s got a cramp in her side. They’re tolerating it at best.”

Mrs. Carrington—their neighbor who was playing the polka on the piano—began playing again, but this time a country dance. Richard led Lily back onto the floor. The ladies lined up on the left, facing the gentlemen.

The dance began, and they moved around each other in the proper formations. “May I say, Lady Lily, that you look stunning this evening?”

“Thank you,” she replied.

“I can’t imagine your mother approved of
that
dress.”

There was a hint of vulgarity in his tone, and it made Lily feel suddenly self-conscious, especially of her low
décolletage
. “Did you prefer the one I wore last night?” she asked.

“Oh, no, not me. I definitely prefer this one. I hate it when women dress like their grandmothers.”

Lily tried to smile at what she wouldn’t exactly call a compliment.

They joined hands and walked in a circle around each other. Richard smiled presumptuously at her. “You wore it for me, didn’t you?”

They separated and came back together again, going through the steps side by side. “I wore it because I liked it,” she replied.

“I like it, too. I was actually quite surprised when I saw you tonight. I must confess, last night when we were introduced, I had taken you for a bit of a prude.”

Lily snapped her mouth shut, stunned by his uncouth manner. “Why would you think that?”

“Because of the way you acted—like a scared mouse. I’m guessing now that it was because your mother was so close by. But tonight I see there is something bold about you. I quite like it.”

He crossed behind her, and she could feel his gaze on her bare neck and shoulders. When they came around to face each other, she felt almost as if he was leering at her. Lily felt her skin prickle, and worried that perhaps she had gone too far with her flirting.

“Thank God I don’t have to be in that rank church tomorrow,” he said offhandedly.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever heard a chaplain say such a thing before,” she said. “What would your parishioners say?”

A look of disdain colored his face. “To tell you the truth I don’t really care. I wouldn’t be in that chapel day after tedious day if it weren’t for my father. He’s so bloody controlling. He’d cut me off if I didn’t do as he told me to.”

Lily wondered what her mother would think if she could hear Richard now.

Richard crossed behind her. “There aren’t many people I would say something like that to,” he said, “but I’ve seen the way you are with your mother, and tonight I’ve begun to suspect that you would like nothing better than to break free of your confines, too. I’m hoping we are kindred spirits.”

He discreetly brushed a finger up her arm as he came to stand before her. She was reminded of what had happened to her three years ago, when Pierre had convinced her to run off with him. She had wanted to break out of her confines then, to get away from this house. She had been desperate for attention and affection—from anyone—and she had wanted to prove to herself that she was not in love with Whitby. She’d wanted to smother the hurt and the longing she always felt, especially when she watched him flirt with other women.

She would not make that mistake again, because she had learned from it. She had learned that one could not simply distract one’s self from things that hurt. Those things must be faced and dealt with.

The dance ended and she was glad. Richard escorted her off the floor, but remained at her side. A few other guests joined them.

While the conversation went on all around her, Lily found herself searching the room for Whitby. She spotted him sitting down in a corner with Lady Stanton. He had not danced all night, which was odd, Lily thought. It was not like him. He always danced at these parties—with every woman in the room.

While one part of her feared that he was purposefully trying to stay out of her path because she had made a complete fool of herself earlier, another part of her wondered again if he was not feeling well.

At that moment, he stood. He bowed to Lady Stanton who stood also and left his side to go talk to someone else. Whitby approached Sophia and James, spoke to them briefly, and headed for the door.

Lily watched all this from the opposite side of the room. She noticed James take a step forward, as if to try to convince Whitby to stay, but Sophia grabbed his arm and shook her head. James consequently did not follow.

Lily turned her attention back to the conversation around her, and tried to hide her immense disappointment over the fact that Whitby had left.

The next day while the gentlemen were out with the guns, the ladies enjoyed an extravagant lunch of soft shell crabs, tossed salad and pickles. Afterward, they all donned their cloaks and headed outside for a leisurely stroll to the lake.

Lily walked beside Miss Jennie Carrington, whose mother had played the piano the night before. As they wandered down the yew-hedged walks through the terraced garden, they paused occasionally to identify the flowers that were blooming so late in the year. The group went on ahead of them, so they had to hurry to catch up, walking around the rectangular pond.

Just then Jennie’s gaze darted to the tawny figure of a man in a light brown jacket sitting on the stone bench on the other side of the water, under the oak tree. He had his back to them and was not aware of their presence. He was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his head down.

“Who is that?” Jennie asked. “I thought all the men were out shooting.”

Lily knew at once who it was. She recognized everything about him—the color of his hair, the line of his shoulders, the manner in which he sat. The fact that he was not with the other gentlemen made her slow her pace.

“It’s Lord Whitby,” she said.

Jennie slowed her pace, too. “He’s losing his looks, I believe. Did you see him last night? He had dark circles under his eyes. I suppose that’s what happens when you lead the kind of life he does. Have you noticed how thin he is?”

“Yes.” Though she didn’t think it made him any less handsome.

“It’s a shame he is so wild,” Jennie said. “He’s going to do himself in with all his drinking. That’s probably why he couldn’t get out of bed this morning to go with the other gentlemen.”

Lily, distracted by the image of Whitby sitting out here alone when he should have been with the others, finally stopped. She could not continue on to the lake.

Jennie reached the far corner of the pond and was about to disappear around the hedge, when she realized Lily was not beside her anymore. She turned around. “Are you coming?”

Lily searched her mind for an excuse. “If you don’t mind, Jennie, I think I will head back to the house. I have a bit of a headache.”

Jennie studied her intently. “All right. I’ll tell Sophia.”

Lily waited for Jennie to disappear around the hedge, then she turned and walked back along the edge of the pond.

The wind was blowing fast, but it was a warm wind for this time of year. She glanced across the choppy, gray water to where Whitby was still sitting in the same position, his elbows on his knees, his head bowed. Lily stood for a moment, just watching the back of him. Was he asleep?

At that instant, he lifted his head. He turned on the bench as if someone had whispered to him, and looked at her from across the pond.

Lily waved. He swiveled around so he was facing her, and hesitated a moment before he waved back. Lily had the distinct feeling he didn’t want to be disturbed, but it was too late now. She couldn’t very well turn around and walk off.