Persuasion (13 page)

together to produce an image of a goldfish. Although her aunt's

surroundings had been a lot more glamorous than that of the fishy craniate!

They had both taken their breakfast in Millie's salon, a rather pretty pink

room which was lit by the sun in the morning and then gently shadowed at

dusk. Seated at a small Louis XV table, they had sipped at their morning

chocolate and nibbled upon lightly buttered toast as they had sorted through

the morning post. Alas Lily had disturbed the pretty picture by demanding

they attend Lady Ipswich's ball and although her aunt had been startled by

the request, Lily believed that she had also been pleased by her niece's

sudden interest in the social occasions they attended! For Millie had oft

made it known that Lillie's distinct disinterest was not normal for a girl of her

age.

In truth, because of her aunt's obvious pleasure, Lily had soon ceased to feel

any guilt about the entire thing! Especially as Aunt Millie quite clearly

believed that this interest stemmed from a man and her excitement had

visibly trebled. Millie could be quite incorrigible and unfortunately Lily had

merely nourished that most irritating of characteristics by behaving so out of

character.

With a faint smile at the thought, for Millie could be very humorous at times,

Lily looked up at the misty, black sky and as she took in the faintly

glimmering stars which were difficult to see through the thickened air, her

smile disintegrated into dust. Running her tongue along the back of her

teeth, Lily wished to high heavens that she was at Grantlake, and not about

to partake in an event which would forever alter the course of her life.

She knew not what the evening held. Knowing the gist of something was not

the same as knowing exactly what would occur. Lily knew not whether she

would be meeting with the Earl again or Dorian as her aunt had informed her

that morning, or whether she would be rendezvous-ing with her blackmailer.

From his behavior, it would not have surprised Lily to learn that the missive

was false, that the Earl was elsewhere and that the blackmailer was simply

ensuring her presence at a ball he was attending so as to pass on further

instructions verbally rather than a note, which could be used against him in

the future.

Were she to meet with either Dorian or the bastard who was intent on

destroying her life, Lily wanted to see neither of them. In truth, she was sick

and tired of thinking of them both and wished simply to escape from her

thoughts! But neither, she realized, did she wish to attend this ball. Almost

as soon as she thought that, the carriage came to a halt outside of Lady

Ipswich's home and she climbed out of its confines with the help of her

uncle's forearm.

Lily determined to make the best of it. For it did no good to dwell on that

which was already decided and by a higher power than herself. She

determined to show a nonchalant face and almost as though her change in

attitude assisted her, as she was led through the polite niceties and was

greeted and welcomed by Lady Ipswich and her daughter, Lily realized that

the event would pass her by in a blur, were she not to focus on anything.

Biting her lip at the thought, she let her eyes trace over the front hall of the

impressive mansion and felt quite the opposite. Yes, the entry was as large

as a cave. Yes, there were grand paintings of past members of the Ipswich

family and yes, there were indeed rather grand furnishings. From ornate and

colorful tapestries that were almost three times Lily's height to a random

piece of objet d'art that would probably feed ten families for an entire year.

But there was no soul.

It was a mansion that was constructed and decorated merely to display the

Ipswich's vulgar wealth. Her lip curled at that, for wealth to Lily was vulgar.

She herself possessed it, as did her family, but their homes were just that,

home. A place for family and friends and filled with love. Not displays of their

coffers!

She let her eyes trace the room and realized that this ball would be the

same as any other, another boring, tedious evening to be spent with boring

and tedious people.

Inwardly, Lily sighed. She was tired of feeling and being maudlin. But what

could she do? Her position seemed to inspire it. Ever since her father's

death, she had ceased to view the world through the rosy hues of childhood.

And thereafter, her cynicism had steadily increased to the point where she

felt naught but the most negative of emotions. Lily was tired of feeling this

way. Was tired of being so . . . the only word she could think of, was

depressed. It was enough to inspire a girl to take laudanum!

She almost snorted at the thought. Were her aunt to know how deeply her

niece was dejected, then Lily knew she would have been doused with the

drug from the very start of the Season!

Feeling her uncle tug gently at her wrist, Lily turned to him with a faint

smile.

“Is anything amiss, Lily?” he asked and she realized that her smile had failed

to convince him of her mood as she had hoped.

Lily opened her mouth to speak and wished to God that she could pour out

her troubles and rest her weary head upon his shoulder. The desire to

recount her sorry tale was such that it sent a flood of fear and anxiety

coursing through her. The pressure of which, she felt sure would slowly

annihilate her with its poisonous taint.

Realizing that she could no more divulge this secret than dance around the

hallway in her chemise, Lily forced a smile. “No, uncle. I am quite well. But,

thank you for asking," she murmured softly, inwardly wincing at the gross lie

she had just spoken.

"What is this?" Aunt Millie interrupted. "Is something wrong?"

"No, my dear. I was just asking after our niece's health, that is all," he

replied, but his concerned eyes still rested upon Lily.

"And is Lily well?" Millie asked softly, the query directed at the girl in

question.

"Yes, aunt, as I have just informed Uncle George, I am quite well."

She hummed under her breath and then pursed her lips contemplatively.

“Now you mention it, George, she does look rather peaky."

Fighting hard to contain her irritation, Lily smiled placidly. "Please, do not

worry. If my skin is peaky, it is simply from the ride here, that is all. Come,

we should make our way into the ballroom."

Uncle George looked at her deeply for a moment until she felt like a small

bug under inspection. “Yes, Millie, let's leave the girl alone," he decisively

stated moments later.

Shooting a look Lily's way, Millie merely nodded and they walked from the

entrance hall of the Ipswich's London mansion down a narrow and rather

cramped corridor which was lined with Roman busts and stone statues of

long dead Gods and Goddesses. They cleared the moratorium of marble and

were soon descending the overlarge staircase that led to the center of the

ballroom and around which the soirée was based.

From her position halfway down the stairs, she glanced about the crush in

search of the glinting blond locks of the man she was charged to seduce but

failed to see him. Of course, she could have been mistaken. The room was

over full and there were many blond men here, but somehow, Lily knew that

instinctively she would have been able to find him. Clenching her fingers

about the fan she held, she felt the small tool begin to dig into her palm and

relished the pain.

Confusion assailed her and she longed to simply sit down, rest and be a

thousand miles away from this bedamned ballroom.

She bit her lip as she questioned how on earth she, Lady Lily Mercer, who

was no trained bloodhound, would be able to ascertain if a certain

gentleman was actually here in this very room.

It seemed deranged, but Lily knew it to be the truth. She was indeed no

bloodhound, but she knew that locating Dorian in a crowded room would

hold no difficulty for her.

Was that all part and parcel of the coup de foudre? Had her mother had the

same ability? Had her father?

Was this heady and powerful emotion that crawled through her veins with a

fiery intensity whenever she thought of Dorian, love?

Lily was a rational person. She wasn't given to being silly. And to fall in love

at first sight seemed both trite and impossible. But then, why else would she

feel the way she did about a relative stranger?

She shook her head and only the realization that she was in a public place

stopped her from shaking it rapidly from side to side in quick denial. She had

to settle with a slight tensing of her throat and neck, which was no release

at all!

Noticing that they were three quarters of the way down the staircase, she

once more scanned the room and knew that Dorian was not there. It was

then that she knew who she would be meeting. And even though she hated

herself for it and felt unbearably weak for feeling thus, fright began to crawl

through her veins like millions of spiders slowly creeping through her blood

stream. The sensation was such that Lily was hard-pressed not to shudder!

The blackmailer was here, roaming about the room with a freedom of

movement that she herself did not possess.

He was probably watching her at this very moment and waiting to pounce.

His eyes were probably taking in the picture she made, the unspoken

language of her body . . . and he was more than likely analyzing it to his

own gain.

Hatred soared through her with an intensity she had never before known. It

was not in Lily's nature to hate, but hate she did. She detested this man for

putting her through this ordeal. For making her fear the shadows, where she

was certain he was hiding . . . . Logically, she knew that to not be true. Why

should he hide when she did not have a clue as to who he was? But it was

how she thought of him, a man of the shadows, a man of the dark who

tormented the innocent for his own purposes and his own end.

She closed her eyes at the thought and felt the slow and subtle pinprick of

tears that longed to fall. But she could not let them. She had to be strong.

Lily had to protect her mother. It was perhaps the only thing that gave her

strength. That enabled her to move on. That, and the fact that that bastard

was watching and was more than likely pleased by the slight nuances of

frailty she was probably displaying for the world at large to see.

Grimacing, she once more allowed her eyes to wander about the room as

soon as her feet touched floor and felt herself genuinely smile for the first

time in a long while. She spied someone that she had not seen since the

night of her come out.

Anna Sampson.

Pleasure rushed through her. Its source was twofold. Firstly, she felt

nostalgic. While her come out had not been to her taste, it had been a

simpler time, a time when she was free from this external pressure. And

secondly, Anna reminded her of herself. Outspoken, cynical, witty . . . who

could not enjoy such a personality?

Without waiting for her aunt, Lily rushed towards the girl and bobbed her

and her mother a quick curtsy. Once that nicety was out of the way, she

reached for Anna's hand and sighed, glad to have met with her new friend

once more. “Miss Sampson, how have you been? It is so wonderful to finally

meet you again."

"I am very well, thank you, Lady Mercer, and yourself?" Anna replied with a faint flush. She ducked her head and was obviously discomforted by Lily's

effusiveness.

Not offended, for she realized that that stemmed simply from her mother's

presence, Lily tightened her fingers about Anna's hand and then released her

quickly. “I, too, am well, thank you, Miss Sampson. And you, ma'am?" she

asked, turning towards Anna's mama.

"Thank you for your interest, Lady Mercer, I am in the peak of health."

"I am glad to hear it," Lily replied with a smile. "Would you mind awfully Mrs. Sampson, if I stole your daughter for a promenade about the

ballroom?"

"I'm sure Anna would be most delighted. She has spoken of you quite often

in the weeks since your come out, Lady Mercer."

"And I have thought of her," Lily replied earnestly. "I have often sought you out, Anna, but as I said earlier, failed to see you."

"Yes, unfortunately, Anna fell ill only a few days after she last saw you.

Tonight is only the second soirée that we have attended!" This was said with

a disapproving frown, under which Anna cowered.

Spying this, Lily frowned herself and then, reached once more for Anna's

hand and tucked it beneath her elbow. "I'm so sorry to hear that, but I'm

sure that Anna must be wilting in the heat. As we promenade, I shall ensure

that we take a breath of fresh air from the balconies," she replied with a

polite nod to Mrs. Sampson.

Mrs. Sampson nodded and smiled, which was the sign Lily needed and she

quickly tugged Anna away from her mother's grasp and deeper into the

crush.

"It is so good to see you, Anna."

"And I, you, my lady."

"Hush, why so formal?"

"I have learned in my short stay in London that it is always wise to at first