Persuasion (6 page)

the man, for it was a man, continued.

“Are you attending Lady Rutherford's ball the following eve?”

“Yes,” she murmured softly.

“Good. I shall contact you there and discuss with you in more depth what I

require of you. Mention one word of this meeting and you shall regret it. I'm

a mean bastard when crossed.”

Lily's body tensed with fright and even though the faint whispering sounds of

cloth informed her of his departure, she felt frozen as though he could still

strike her. When her lungs began to function normally and her stomach did

not feel as though she was about to cast out her breakfast, Lily turned

around but saw nothing. A faint scent lingered in the air, strong enough to

overshadow the lavender oil about her nose, but she did not recognize it.

Why did he want to know if she would be attending Lady Rutherford's ball?

Oh why had she admitted that she would be there?!

Damning herself and wondering what on earth was happening, Lily felt her

earlier nausea begin to wash through her. She had never felt so frightened

in her entire life. A threat had not been made to her, merely an admission of

their mutual attendance at a ball, but the manner in which he had couched

his question was suspicious and his reasons for her requiring her presence

were hardly pure!

What on earth could anyone want with her? She was a debutante, and while

not exactly a green girl, as good as one! She could be of no help with

political intrigue or the like, so why on Earth had he attempted to

communicate with her thus?

Licking her dry lips, Lily felt an unbearable weakness wash through her and

wished to goodness that her maid was here and not at home with her

smelling salts. For the first time in her robust life, Lily felt close to swooning.

Should she tell her aunt or uncle about this matter?

Every part of her shouted in affirmation, but Lily hesitated to do so for

perhaps it was all for naught. There was a possibility that it was indeed a

hoax. That some gentleman had become peeved with her ice maiden-like

behavior and wished to avenge his damaged ego by presenting her with this

distasteful jest.

Nodding to herself, for that seemed to make sense, Lily determined that she

would not tell Millie or George. Having realized that it probably was just a

hoax, she need not fear anything. And if it wasn't that, but was something

more clandestine, then Lady Rutherford's ball would be a great crush. It was

highly likely that he would not dare to cross paths with her if she stayed in

the thick of things.

Finally, after what felt like hours instead of a mere ten minutes, her aunt

and uncle came bustling back. Millie had a glow of satisfaction on her face

and Lily knew without asking that she had procured invitations for them all.

Millie had no great need to hustle for invitations; they had more than they

knew what to do with, but she seemed to enjoy the task. Taking to it like a

fishwife who haggled down at the market for the very best of prices!

After they had taken a seat, Lily leaned forward and tapped her aunt gently

on the arm with her fan. “Is a chaperone necessary because bad things can

happen, when an unattended female is alone?” she whispered quietly,

although that did little to hide the urgency she felt.

“Why, dear child, what on earth makes you ask that?”

“I just wondered. My thoughts turned morose when you left,” she lied. “And

I wondered if that was the reason why. London is bound to contain souls

who wish to do others harm . . . .”

“Naturally. This is the metropolis, my dear. But you need not concern

yourself with those kinds of nasty and troubling thoughts. A duenna ensures

that you remain pure and safe from any man's evil intentions. You are

attended and your uncle and I would never do anything to jeopardize your

safety or your good name!”

Lily gulped, for her safety and name had unknowingly been compromised

and there were countless other times, when she had been alone. Her aunt's

lack of directness told Lily that to be alone, was indeed dangerous and she

vowed to stay close to her at all the upcoming events. What had she meant

by evil intentions? Was this . . . what she had just experienced . . . was it a

common act?

Unwittingly, Lily realized that her aunt had grown agitated and knew that the

blame lay at her feet. Aunt Millie fluttered her fan rapidly and flashed it

before her face as though she'd suddenly grown hot.

Feeling mean and rotten for having disturbed her so, Lily launched into a

conversation that was bound to put her aunt at ease. “The ball will be such

fun, won't it aunt?”

She was eyed with curiosity for this was the first time that Lily had shown

any excitement at the upcoming balls they were to attend and knowing that

she had indeed diverted her aunt's thoughts, Lily patted herself on the back.

“It will, my dear. Great fun! I met such a handsome man in Lady Devins'

box. Her son, you know. Twenty thousand a year and such a personable

gentleman too!”

“Will he be there tomorrow at Lady Rutherford's?” Lily asked and saw that

matchmaker's glint flash rapidly in Millie's eye.

“Yes, indeed! I shall introduce you to his mama and she can then make her

introductions. Just think of what a match that would be, Lily. He's a

Viscount. But his fortune makes up for his lack in stature, do you not think

so?”

Hiding a grimace, for Lily cared naught for stature or wealth - all she wanted

was something that her parents had had. “Indeed. But let's not rush ahead,

aunt. We might not suit each other!” she snapped a tad abruptly. She

instantly felt guilty.

“True, true, forgive me, my dear!”

“There is nothing to forgive!”

She was gifted with a beatific smile and suddenly, as the orchestra struck its

first note, silence amongst the crowd reigned supreme as they realized the

opera was about to start.

What should have been a glorious occasion, for indeed the opera was a

marvel, was instead filled with fraught anxiety. No matter how often she told

herself that it was all just in poor taste and the result of some man's

damaged ego, Lily could not believe it and knew that tomorrow, the man

would indeed be there. Lying in wait for her and ready and raring to pounce

like England's very own adder.

She knew, without knowing how, that she would be touched by that adder's

poison and felt dread course through her because of it.

****

within the huge expanse of space in the opera house but her.

The gilded and molded decorations seemed to move as though they were

more than just works of art but filled with life too. Above her, the frieze, the

man at the helm of the black stallion and its white counterpart stormed

angrily through the sky. The thudding sounds were so great that Lily felt

them pound through her melodiously until her own heart began to beat to

that particular drum.

The sensation made her feel unbearably queasy and Lily had to move from

her standing position and to a seat. As she took her place, there was a

hissing sound, long and low and rattling. It terrified her to her very marrow

and the queasiness returned as out of nowhere, four adders, their black

heads moving from side to side as they slithered out of the darkness,

approached her.

A scream shot out of her throat as they curled about her limbs, capturing

her and holding her captive by their presence about her wrist and ankle.

Their cold skin had her shuddering with distaste and horror and Lily felt sure

that death was close. Felt certain that their poisonous venom would soon be

entering her bloodstream and gift her with a killing blow.

Terror beyond any terror she had ever experienced in her short life pulsed

its way around her body, freezing her with a tension that made her feel as

though she were already dead. A part of her panicked. Had she already been

bitten? To freeze up like this was surely not normal?

Gulping in panting breaths, Lily tried to beg for calm. But it was impossible.

How could she be calm when she did not know if she were dead or alive?

Instead, she began to call out and thanked God when her voice worked, for

it meant she was indeed still breathing and of this Earth.

“Help! Please, oh God, please help!”

“No one will help you. You are beyond help,” a man murmured, his voice

possessed of that same hissing sibilance that snakes were born with.

With a gasp, she almost jolted out of her skin as the words penetrated her

brain. “Who is it? Who's there?” she cried, terrified at the malevolence that

coated each and every one of the man's words.

“Why, the man of your nightmares, Lady Lily. Who else could it be?”

Feeling a cold breath touch the warm and pulsing flesh of her nape, Lily

tensed and wondered what the snake-man's next move would be. She felt

indecently certain that he would command the snakes to bite her and gobble

her whole.

“What do you want?”

“You. Just you.”

The words seemed to vibrate along her flesh through the copious nerve

endings that were hidden within.

“Why?” she screamed. “What have I done?”

“What do you think you have done?” the voice countered and prodded Lily

the one step she had needed to burst into sobbing breaths.

“Please. Let me go! Let me go!”

“But I need you, dearest,” came the hissing retort. This time, the words

echoed repeatedly throughout the huge, open expanse of the theater until

she thought she would go mad with the repetitive threat that assailed her

ear drums.

She began to tug and pull at her live bindings, but they merely reacted by

coiling tighter about her. Tighter and tighter until she felt her blood begin to

pound throbbingly at her wrists and ankles and knew that the extremities

would be turning bright blue from lack of life blood.

Sobs racked her chest as she begged for help, but to no avail and when

finally, she felt that faint sting on her left wrist, Lily knew she would die. And

with a howling cry, she shuddered as the venom poured through her system

and had pain spreading from the source of the bite throughout every limb,

numbing each part before she was stung with agony.

****

“No! No! No!” Lily shouted, her agitation rolling her from one side of the

overlarge bed to the other.

“Miss Lily! Wake up right this minute!”

Lily felt herself being pushed and prodded into wakefulness and sat up with

a gasp as soon as she realized that she had indeed being dreaming. Spying

her maid-since-womanhood, Janie, she grabbed the older woman by the

apron and coiled her arms tightly about her. “Janie! Please don't let him take

me!” she cried, retrieving enormous amounts of comfort from her maid's

embrace.

“Tosh, Miss Lily! Who's going to take you? Don't be daft!”

The broad Yorkshire accent brought her down to the ground and with the

bang she needed. Gulping, she lifted a hand and rubbed her sweaty brow.

“No. No, I'm sorry, Janie,” she whispered, her voice trembling with the force

of the terror that had assailed her during that nightmare.

“Don't be sorry for having a nightmare, lass!”

“What time is it?” Lily replied with a faint smile.

“Time to get ready for tonight's ball.”

“I napped that long?”

“You were restless and I knew you needed to sleep, so I let you. Your aunt

was asking after you and I told her you'd almost swooned.” Janie ducked her

head sheepishly. “I know it wasn't my place, Miss Lily, but she would have

fussed around you and I knew it wouldn't have helped.”

“Don't be afeared, Janie. You did right and I thank you! Sometimes my aunt

can be . . . well, I'm sure you know,” Lily said comfortingly as she patted the

maid's hand.

Janie ducked her head again and Lily knew that she was biting her tongue.

Lily patted her hand again and then squeezed it in understanding.

Ever since Lily had arrived in London, Janie had had clashes with both Aunt

Millie and her lady's maid. The former seemed to think she could destroy

Lily's routine, a routine which Janie lived by. And, Aunt Millie also seemed to

believe that she could simply ask Janie to make alterations to any and all of

Lily's clothes, at the drop of a hat, regardless of whether or not Lily

happened to like the outfit! That was something that exasperated both Lily

and her maid!

The latter, on the other hand, simply believed that as she was the maid of

the lady of the house, she was head of the staff and a more pompous and

irritating woman, Lily had ever met! Janie's temper and patience had been

sorely tested these months past. How she had managed to hold her tongue,

Lily did not know. Janie was used to speaking her mind, Lily often

encouraged it. She must have felt as though she were being driven around

the bend!

“Did you pick out a dress for me, Janie?” she asked, changing the subject to

ease Janie's discomfort.

“Aye, miss. The silver one.”

With a nod, Lily scoured her mind for a memory of a silver robe but came up