Persuasion (16 page)

Swiftly, Lily ran to it and so suddenly that she almost shrieked, a footman

appeared out of nowhere and opened the door. With his help, she entered

the carriage and as soon as the doors were once more closed, the driver set

off and drove her into the London night and an uncertain future.

Battling her nerves, Lily forced herself to relax. It would do no good were

she to expire of apoplexy before she even reached the Earl's home!

Where once, her wry humor would have found amusement in that thought,

now she felt merely glum. And more panic.

Never in her life had she felt so torn. So torn between what was right and

what was wrong. For in these circumstances, was the delineating line not

blurry? Was it not impossible to differentiate between what was right and

wrong?

She closed her eyes at the thought and sat back with a faint jolt against the

seat. Lily gulped as her mind began to wander down paths she did not wish

to traverse and she opened her eyes to dispel the imagery that overcame

her. A small candle provided faint relief from the overwhelming darkness of

the carriage but she could easily have done without it at all. Instead, she

ignored the faint light and sank into the enveloping darkness that cushioned

her in its welcoming bosom and provided her with escape. Her papa had

once told her when she was a little girl, to close her eyes and count to ten if

she was ever frightened and that when she reopened her eyes, the world

would be a much better place.

Even now, knowing that those trite words had been solely to comfort a small

girl, she took solace in her father's dictate and counted slowly to ten.

When she reopened her eyes, while the world was still as cruel as ever, her

franticness had dissipated some and she no longer felt as though she were

about to swoon! Which, Lily thought, was something at least!

Knowing that she had to be strong, that she was doing this for her mother's

safety did not ease her any. While she knew that she had no choice, she

railed against a fate that allowed a young woman to be trapped in such an

abhorrent manner. Lily pursed her lips and crossed her arms before her. The

self-comforting gesture brought some relief and she tightened them about

her, when the carriage came to a halt for no reason whatsoever.

Frowning, she was tempted to stick her head out of the window and to

inquire as to what was occurring, but the need for anonymity kept her silent,

and, within seconds, she knew the reason why they had come to a standstill.

Four women were shouting at the coachman and their lewd words made Lily

flush with laughter. They had obviously walked out in front of the carriage

without ascertaining if the road were safe or not. It seemed to Lily that the

women were at fault, but from their heated words, Lily judged that they did

not believe so.

It was another part of London that never failed to surprise her. The

cockney's impressive vocabulary had often made her laugh, where it sent

her aunt into a fit of blushes. Lily sometimes wondered how on Earth Aunt

Millie had made it to her age without hearing the imaginative curse words of

the native Londoners.

“Ga'on, yer bastard coachman! Almost knocked me bloody 'ead awf, yer did!

Bloody cheek!”

“Away with yer, yon women! Out of my sight!”

“Be damned to the dogs, yer pig!”

She grimaced as the carriage buckled a little, for what reason she did not

know, but soon rode off into the night. For at least thirty seconds more, the

women continued to rain curses on the coachman's head and Lily smiled

again. How she wished for the freedom to declare her anger to the world!

How she wished to have a voice that counted and truly meant something!

She laughed at the thought. Utopia, London was not and never would be. Of

that, Lily knew, but it did not stop her from wishing.

Unraveling her arms from the tight clasp around her waist, she pressed her

hands at either side of her lap and pushed herself higher up the seat. As she

did so, she inadvertently nudged something and winced as her dainty fingers

struck the wooden chest. She grimaced and curled her fingers to stretch

them, then reached for the box and placed it on her knee. Her fingers

rubbed the edges and she noticed it was engraved, but its decoration was

much less interesting than its contents, although it probably delivered

anything but good news! The thought prompted her to hover over the

decision of whether or not to open the damnable thing.

For a good three minutes, she hesitated and then slipped the lid from the

box. In the darkness it was rather difficult to see its contents and so she

held it up to the candle and saw a faint glimmer of something, what it was,

she didn't know. Frowning, she dug her hands into it and felt the slippery

sensation of material slide against her skin. Lifting it to the light once more,

she flinched.

What was this abomination?

She flinched once more as she let it drop to its full length and rather than

extinguish some of the light, it merely enhanced it! For the candle was quite

clearly visible through the silk chiffon!

Her mouth bobbed open and closed as she tried to assimilate what on Earth

it was. Or rather, as she tried to tell herself what it wasn't. But there was no

denying it. That bastard blackmailer obviously intended for her to wear this .

. . this . . . silken rag!

The nerve! The abominable cheek!

She screwed it up into a tight ball and threw it across the short breadth of

the carriage. It fell to the floor with a sinuous slithering sound and she

turned her head away from it. Lily was rather tempted to throw the entire

box across the carriage and damn the damage! But she managed to contain

that desire and instead, placed it opposite her on the seat. How she noticed

that a note still rested within its interior was a work of good fortune . . . not

on her part, but that of the blackmailer's. How she wished that she hadn't

seen it and that she could rebel against him in some small way. But see it

she had and she grabbed it and squinted as she read it:

The dress is of the latest fashion . . . for a Cyprian of that I assure you, my

Lady Mercer. Wear it beneath your cloak or your dearest Mama shall suffer.

Once the carriage comes to a halt, exit it and walk to the front door of the

house. Unlock it. The key is in the box. Once the door opens, a servant shall

await you and guide you to his lord's whereabouts.

Wear the dress.

Wear it.

The last two sentences had been underscored and she flinched at the

thought of not only undressing in the moving vehicle, which was akin to

publicly denuding herself! Then re-dressing herself in the chiffon bit of

nothing that would bare her completely, while covering her with nothing but

a silken sheen!

She cringed at the thought of complying, but what choice did she have?

What choice at all?

As the bastard had quite clearly stated, her mama would be in danger were

she to not comply and so she had no choice but to do as he said and follow it

to the letter.

Closing her eyes against that most hideous of thoughts, Lily blindly stuck her

hands out and sought the chiffon robe. It was not on the seat and she had to

bend over and search around the floor for it, a move that almost had her

falling over and breaking her damned neck! But finally, the dress, if one

could call it that, was once more in her grasp. She licked her lips as her

fingers dug into the chiffon and its delicacy had her wanting to pull it apart,

rip it from the seams and damage it beyond repair so that she need not

wear it.

But she couldn't.

The sheer futility of the situation had her gritting her teeth. Frustration and

anger followed on its heels. She dug around in the box for the key the

blackmailer had promised her and then placed it in a pocket in her cloak.

Once that was safely tucked away, she held up the dress once more to the

light and gulped. There would be no hiding once she was enshrouded in it.

Every part of her would be completely bare to the naked eye.

Slowly and reluctantly, Lily unfastened her cloak, which was a simple swathe

of green velvet that was held together at the throat by a rather pretty, if

useful brooch that depicted a sleek and arched greyhound in a dull gilt gold.

She unfastened it and placed it carefully on the seat to her side. It was a

precious gift from her papa and she wore it as often as she could. Even

though he would more than likely have been disgusted by what she was

about to do this night, Lily desperately needed the illusion that he was still

here to protect her and her family from harm.

Carefully, for the confines of the carriage were small, she removed the dress

by throwing it over her head and wincing as a few of the buttons at the back

popped loose. How she would mend those under Janie's beetle eyes, Lily did

not know but she refused to think of that trivial matter at such a time as

this! It was a simple linen Empire shift dress, which was not too difficult to

remove but more than anything, the thought of what lay ahead of her, had

her taking such a long time about it.

Underneath her dress, she did not wear her usual undergarments. Having

deemed them a ridiculous addition to an outfit when one considered what

the night held and she had taken to wearing her simple, thin linen chemise.

Now, she thanked God she had worn that for it would be her saving grace in

the abomination of a dress the blackmailer would have her wear!

Her heart fluttered with relief, for the thought of having to rush naked

through the street and enter a man's house while wearing an outfit that

consisted of nothing but hot air, had been of nightmarish proportions! With

the chemise however, at least the most important parts would be covered

and even though she would only be covered a tad more, a tad was

wonderful in comparison to completely nude. Her chemise was like manna

from the Gods!

Realizing that time had passed and that they must be nearing arrival, she

ducked under the chiffon dress and settled it on her frame. Even in the

relative darkness of the carriage, Lily could tell how clearly visible her flesh

was through the thin material. She grimaced, but swiftly wrapped herself

into her cloak once more, refastened the brooch and then sat there in

silence. In an internal pocket in her cloak lay the key and so as to be ready,

she reached for it and played with the thick metal in her palm as she waited

for the carriage to arrive at the Earl's home. It was the early morning and

the majority of London had retired to their beds. As had her household and

how she wished she could be tucked up in the warm and comfortable cocoon

of her four poster, but that was not to be. And it seemed that even though it

was nearing four of the clock in the morning, that there were people like her

roaming around the streets.

At times, there were the sounds of joviality, of wild laughter and chuckling

guffaws. From her past knowledge, she knew that those bawdy sounds

would more than likely be from club parties, where the veritable Lords and

gentlemen of the ton would be celebrating and enjoying the late hours of the

night with their Cyprians. While the ladies of the ton were expected to retire

early to their beds, their Lords and masters could do as they wished and

how Lily envied them that freedom.

It was a side of life she should know naught of, but, she did. Her older

brother Devlin, the devil, had always included her in his tales of the ton.

There was a mere five years between them and whenever he had escaped to

London in the past, he had always returned with countless wicked tales of

his naughty behavior that had always stirred her into laughing.

Why?

Firstly, because his tales were just that- amusing. His escapades seemed

almost legendary and she had often loved to hear of his adventures.

But secondly, and of this she had always been aware, he had in his own way

been preparing her for her life with a husband, a husband who, more than

likely, reveled in the ton's vices.

It seemed strange, but it was Devlin's way of trying to protect her and she

had always appreciated that. Indeed, more often than not, he did not tell her

enough! And had he not been lax in his attentions, she would have

understood what a seduction was without having to embarrass every female

in her household to discover its meaning!

Devlin had, in his own way, been disillusioning her. Many girls, he had

always said, arrived in London with birds flying about their heads and

flowers in their eyes. These chits sought love and the ton wasn't about love,

he said. It was about expediency. She knew that and therefore had never

been disillusioned. She preferred to know what was happening rather than

have it hid from her. Not that he told her everything, as she well knew, but

just enough to prepare her for a future with a boorish husband.

What a wonderful thought!

One of her governesses had once told her that to have impure thoughts, was