My Fair Lily (9 page)

The duke led them through his summer salon and winter salon, the summer dining room and winter dining room, the ballroom, music room, a smaller conservatory, portrait gallery, and finally his library.

Lily gasped as she entered. “I’ve never seen anything so fine!” She walked from bookshelf to bookshelf, trailing her hand along the spines of the assorted volumes. There were so many! “I could spend
years in here,” she said, more to herself.

“Spend as long as you wish,” the duke replied. “Come over whenever you wish.”

Meggie broke into a smile for the first time since they’d met.
“Oh, Lily! Please do.”

Lily glanced at Ewan, but he had his gaze fixed on the duke, eyeing him warily. Lily was wary, too. “Very kind of you,” she
answered cautiously, wondering at his sudden generosity and how she fit into his schemes.

The old man was plotting something beyond a mere request to
provide companionship for Meggie. Lily knew he detested her,
though
after their first encounter had alarmed Meggie, he’d strained to be more civil to her. Hadn’t actually spoken to her, for that was too
much to ask. But he hadn’t shot daggers at her either.

They returned to the conservatory. The remnants of the tea had
been cleared from the table, which was set anew with a tablecloth of embroidered linen, delicate china, and brilliant sterling silver. “A fortnight ago, I was roasting rabbit over a campfire,” Ewan muttered.
“Right now, I feel like the rabbit roasting on a spit.”

Lily nodded sympathetically.

Ewan had reason not to trust his grandfather.

He was a mean old man.

Had anyone else given her an open invitation to use a
magnificent library, she would have considered the gesture quite charitable.

But to use Lotheil Court’s library?

The duke was a cold, proud man.

He did nothing out of charity.

“Will you be holding a ball in honor of your grandchildren?” Eloise asked.

Ewan regarded her with horror. “I’d sooner invite wolves to chew off m’leg! I told ye, Eloise. I’m not one for society. His Grace
may do as he pleases, just leave me and Meggie out of it.”

Lily glanced at Meggie.

“Margaret,” the duke said, jolting the poor girl to attention. “Do you feel as your brother does about a party?”

She clutched Lily’s arm and nodded.

“Well, that answers your question,” he said to Eloise. “My grandchildren want nothing to do with me.”

The tea, about as pleasant as the Spanish Inquisition, ended a
few minutes later.

Ewan and Meggie assisted Eloise into the carriage, but the duke held Lily back, mentioning something about a book he thought might interest her. “Come with me,” he commanded, leading her briskly into the library and offering her a seat beside his desk, which she declined. “I’ll come straight to the point. My grandchildren like you. They obviously detest me,” he said, and Lily noted a surprising tinge of sadness in his voice.

“Can you blame them?” She ought to have kept her mouth shut, but couldn’t help it. “You weren’t very kind to their parents, cut off
all relations for the past thirty years.”

He looked her sternly up and down. “That is none of your concern.”

“Your Grace, is there a reason you wished to speak to me
alone?”

He looked her up and down again. “You want admission into
the Royal Society, don’t you?”

She glowered at him.

“I’ll get you in... on one condition.”

“And what would that be?”

“Restore my relations with Ewan and Margaret. They’ll be leaving
London in three months’ time. I’ll never see them again, unless the
improbable happens and we reconcile. Miss Farthingale,” he said,
taking her hand in a firm grip, “if you make us a family
again, I’ll make you the Royal Society’s first female member. What do you say? Do we have a bargain?”

“How can I restore affections that never existed?”

“Do we have a bargain? Will you deliver my family back to me?”

“I’ll think about it.” She slipped her hand out of his cold fingers, not sure why she felt so unsettled about doing a good deed. Families ought to be together, but to accept such a bribe for something she
would have gladly taken on simply for the asking?

He threw his head back and laughed. “I knew you had larceny in you, gel! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She walked away.

Had she just made a deal with the devil?

***

The next afternoon, Lily was summoned to Eloise’s home. “I’ve
invited you here today for Meggie’s sake,” her friend explained. “She needs more help than I imagined. Though she won’t be formally introduced into society this year, I’d still like to take her out, show her a bit of London, and introduce her to my friends. The clothes she’s brought with her simply won’t do. She’ll need an entirely new wardrobe. Her brother will undertake the costs, of course.”

Lily grinned. “Of course. And since at least three or four gowns must be ready within the week, Madame de Bressard will likely triple her fees. She’ll be dancing a jig by the time she’s finished draining Mr. Cameron of his hard-earned blunt.”

“Now, Lily. It isn’t polite to speak of finances.”

“I was merely making an observation about the economics of the transaction. The greater the demand for a particular good—”

“Yes, yes, but I would appreciate your help in solving this particular problem. Ewan refuses to attend any society functions.
Not a one. I can’t convince him otherwise.”

“These affairs can be dreadfully dull.” She often thought so herself. “He doesn’t strike me as the sort of man to put up with idle chatter. As for Meggie, even though almost a year has passed since
their father’s death, she still appears to be in mourning.”

Eloise nodded. “Meggie’s miserable here and afraid of her grandfather. She needs companionship and more than a little distraction.”

“Of course, I’ll help. I’ll enlist all the Farthingales. What would you like us to do?”

“Include her in some of your activities,” Eloise said as they settled down to further discussion over a hearty lunch of sausage
cobbler and assorted meat pies.

***

Lily thought they made great progress in their plans during the course of the meal. She hoped Ewan and Meggie would be as pleased with the results. “Have we overlooked anything? You know them far better than I do. Anything special we can do for Meggie?”

“I’ll give it some thought. She does need a good bit of cheering.
As for the rest of it, I think we’ve been quite thorough. Just some
minor details left to discuss.”

“Such as?” Lily set down her fork and drew the napkin to her lips to dab at a crumb or two that clung to her lips after devouring the tastiest
chicken and leek pie she’d ever had. Eloise’s cook had mastered the
art of
making pastry dough, exceeding even the impressive talents of Mrs.
Mayhew, who was practically perfect as far as Lily was concerned. Indeed, Mrs. Mayhew was a saint to put up with the thoroughly
disorganized Farthingale clan, who had a habit of showing up
unannounced at all hours. Her father and uncle George were the only sensible Farthingales, and if not for their good business sense and generosity, most of the family would likely be out begging on the
streets.

She was brought back to attention as Eloise responded to her question
by counting on her fingers. “Well, Meggie will need a French lady’s maid to style her hair, tame those wild Highlands curls.”

Lily nodded, sympathetic to the struggles since she (and Dillie,
of course) had similar thick hair that seemed to have a life of its own, always ready to break free of its pins and spill over her shoulders,
though hers was much darker than Meggie’s.

“Meggie will have to learn some of the more popular dances. Ewan as well, though I expect he’s more polished than he’ll let on.”

“Are you certain?” He was so obviously rough around the edges and had made no secret of his determination to remain that way.

Eloise nodded. “Not about the dances, for he isn’t one for genteel entertainments. You won’t find him fitting a dance instructor into his busy day. But he has a natural, manly grace about him, don’t you
think?
And he’s a fast learner. He’s always been that way. Even as a child he was wise beyond his years.” She paused a moment and pursed her lips. “He’s never worn a beard before. He’s usually clean shaven
and keeps himself well clothed and groomed.”

Lily felt her heart take a little leap.

“I’m sure he’s kept his beard and rustic clothes simply to irk his grandfather. Well, he’s had his bit of fun, and it’s time he made himself presentable. He’ll never dress like these young London dandies, but he knows how to carry off a stylish look. He’s a handsome man, or would be if he ever decided to fit in with the London crowd.”

Lily imagined he would look magnificent even if he were dressed in a burlap sack. The thought of running her hand along Ewan’s clean-shaven cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her palm, and the light roughness of his stubble after a morning’s
shave... oh, dear! The room had suddenly grown unbearably hot.

Eloise arched an eyebrow as Lily poured herself another glass of lemonade and gulped it down. “The pie was very salty,” she mumbled, pouring herself a second glass of the tart liquid and finishing that one off as well, though it did little to keep the heat from crawling up her cheeks. “Delicious pie... but salty.” Ewan would taste that good, she simply knew it, and could prove it if she
ever got to lick his skin. Not that she would. Ever.

Eloise rang for more lemonade and then turned to Lily and
smirked. “You look like you could use another pitcher full.”

“As I said, the salt.” She silently apologized to Eloise’s cook for the lie and drank some more. Good thing it was only lemonade and not wine or that insipid ratafia that proper young ladies were permitted to drink at Almack’s. Otherwise she’d be passed out on the floor, drooling and making a general spectacle of herself. “So,
Meggie will have to learn to dance. What else?”

“Meggie ought to learn the more popular card games and should have lessons on the order of precedence among the nobility. I would not like her to make a
faux pas
when introduced to some of my more elegant friends, though most would never pass an unkind remark. Will you teach her, Lily? She won’t be so scared if the lessons come from you.”

“I’ll do my best, but do you think she can learn all of it in so short a
time?”

“I don’t know. We’ll soon find out. Ewan and Meggie are to pay a call on me this afternoon. You’ll stay, of course.”

So Lily stayed, and tried to ignore the rampant butterfly flutters that sprang into her stomach the moment Ewan strode into the salon.
And tried to brace herself when Jasper trotted in behind him, noticed
her, and with a lovesick
wroolf, wrooolf
, leapt straight for her, knocking over Eloise’s precious teacups that—thank goodness—happened to be empty, for Watling had yet to bring in the afternoon tea and cakes.
“Jasper, sit!” she cried at the same time Ewan called him a
hairy wanker
and lunged for him to keep his woolly beast from knocking
her over yet again.

But Jasper surprised them all by obeying her command, which
caused a different sort of chaos when he stopped himself in mid-leap, his paws clawing the air to slow himself down, and landed with a gentle thud at her feet, his head held high with obedient pride. Ewan,
who was himself in mid lunge, arms extended, and
hands now aimed straight for her breasts, tripped over the beast.

“Bollix,” he said in a choked breath, immediately drawing his hands in and twisting his shoulders to alter his trajectory so that he’d
hit the floor and not her, obviously preferring to land badly rather than take her down with him.

Lily watched in horror as Newton’s laws on bodies in motion and forces of gravity unfolded before her. She cringed at the
outcome. It
would not be pretty. “Ewan, look out!” she cried, fascinated by the glorious
motion of his big, male body crashing against the stiff arm
of the sofa,
then rolling off the overstuffed sofa cushions onto the floor where
his body wedged between her legs and the tea table.

“Bloody looby,” he muttered, the breath clearly knocked out of him.

“Are you all right?” Lily reached out to help him up, but as she
bent down, Jasper mistook it for a game and gently pushed her. “Jasper!” She fell atop Ewan, her knees landing squarely on his stomach and her hands on his chest. Big, solid chest. “Oh, dear! I’m
so sorry.”

Ewan caught her by the waist to steady her atop him, which seemed
a Ewan thing to do, for he was always protectively considerate of her. His grip was firm, yet gentle, as she tried to slide off him, actually tried to slide
down
his body. She didn’t get very far because Jasper was
still at
their feet, his enormous, shaggy body blocking her way as he sat obediently, refusing to budge.