by Daphne Bloom
It’s difficult, but I do as she says. It helps, but I still need to get away before I crumble. Abigail wraps an arm around my shoulder and leads me out of the shop. I am thankful to see our carriage is still parked out front. The driver helps me climb inside, and I instantly feel calmer. I take a few deep breaths and look out at the park across the street and the green trees and thick grass. How I wish I were there right now instead of shopping for dresses.
Chapter Eight
Henry
The four-piece orchestra is playing as loudly as a concert within the confines of the ballroom. It is not a small room, but the music echoes off the walls, making it seem all around me.
George finally managed to drag me out of the house to an evening of dancing at the home of Lord and Lady Ellsworth, old friends of the family. It would have been rude for me to refuse.
The room is packed with warm bodies as the dancers swirl around the middle of the room, a flurry of ribbons and lace. There’s not enough space for everyone to dance, so the edges of the room are also crammed with people waiting for a break in the crowd. I haven’t been to a society event in so long, I have to wonder if having so many people present is typical. I don’t remember them being so crowded when I was younger.
“What do you think?” George asks me, squeezing my arm.
“Of what?” I ask obtusely.
“The women,” he says eagerly, and I’m suddenly transported back to my first Season.
George had been out for about three years already and was keen to “show me the ropes.” He escorted me to every event, every dance, every theater show. And at each one, we drank until we were stupid and danced with more ladies than I could ever remember, and did a bit more than dance with a few of them. It was fun at the time, though I’m a bit embarrassed looking back. But I wasn’t ready to get married then and was far more interested in traveling. There were society events in India—parts of Bombay felt like I’d never left England—but I was exploring the country more often than not.
“Well?” George asks, bringing me back to the present. “Do any catch your eye?”
Of course they do, I think. I’m lame, not dead. The young ladies are beautiful, like the most colorful flowers. It’s not that I’m not attracted to them, but whether they would be attracted to me.
“They are all lovely, George,” I say, trying to speak over the din so that only he can hear me. I fear it is a losing battle. “But you know I can’t dance.”
“You don’t have to dance with them,” George says. “Just talk to the ones who are taking breaks. Look—” He nods toward a small group of three ladies near a refreshment table. “What about those girls?”
I snort a laugh. “Are they even old enough to be out? They barely look out of the nursery.”
George rolls his eyes. “Only you would complain about a wife looking too young.”
“I’m looking for a woman, not a girl.”
“Fine,” he says with a sigh. “There—” He nods to a young woman sipping a cup of punch and watching the dancing. “That’s Lord Elgin’s second daughter. Third Season. Alice says she’s determined to be engaged before the month is out.”
I sigh. The woman is not the most beautiful girl in the room, but she is pretty enough with a turned-up nose and soft brown curls. I know George is not going to stop pestering me until I make an attempt. I make my way toward her, doing my best to hide my limp.
“Enjoying the dance?” I ask her, and she looks toward me with large eyes. She looks from my hat down to my waist, and I can’t help but think she is evaluating how much my suit cost before bothering to greet me. Her eyes stop at my cane before she returns to my face.
“Henry Pembroke, I presume,” she says, and I fear my face is flushing. I hadn’t thought about rumors flying so fast that people would instantly know who I was by my cane. I’m hardly the only man in society who needs one…but I suppose I must be the only one attending the Season this year.
“Y-y-yes,” I stammer, trying to collect myself. “And you are Lord Elgin’s daughter.”
She gives a half-smile. “Yes. Sofia.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Sofia,” I say. She gives the same half-smile, not returning the sentiment. “So, have you been enjoying the Season?” I try.
“Indeed,” she says. “I’ve met several marriageable prospects.”
I feel my smile run from my face. I don’t point out that she was standing there alone until I approached. In fact, I have the feeling she is overstating her status as a belle of the ball. But her insinuation—that I was not among prospective mates—is clear.
“Well, I wish you all the luck in the world,” I say politely. I turn and walk away without a response. I knew it was pointless to try and find a wife during the Season. Shallow, vapid children all looking for a pretty face and not thinking about—
I gasp when I see Lily enter the room. The pink dress she wears makes her skin and hair practically glow despite the low candlelight in the room. Her normally wild hair is pinned tightly back from her face, but cascades prettily down her back. Her eyes dart about, as though she is worried about something. I see she is tightly gripping Constance’s hand.
They don’t see me, and I seem frozen to the spot. After the rejection I just received, I would be a fool to think that a girl like Lily would be interested in me.
Constance leads Lily to the other side of the room, and I follow at what I hope is a safe distance—just enough to see but not be seen. Constance stops next to a young man I know to be the eldest son of Lord Haddington, from Scotland. I can’t understand why Constance would single him out above all other men here—men with peerages in England and of higher rank. I think even I would be a preferable match to Haddington. Then I remember my cane and the fact that my estimation in the eyes of the Ton must be the lowest of all. Still, I’m sure Lily could do better. Why do her sisters seem to underestimate her worth?
Haddington smiles as he converses with Constance—Lily looking like she’d rather be anywhere else, a sentiment I can relate to. Finally, Haddington offers Lily his hand, which she accepts, and he leads her onto the dance floor. Haddington tries to join the flow of dancers, but Lily hesitates. He is polite about it and waits a moment before starting again. The next time he tries to lead her, she follows, but she is terribly tense. Her movements are stiff and I think I can see her lips moving slightly, either counting the time or reciting the steps. After a few moments, they move around the room, putting too many dancers between them and me for me to see.
I feel a heavy hand on my shoulder. “How did it go?” George asks me, his face all smiles. I’m sure he’s already into his cups.
“Fantastic,” I say. “She took one look at my cane and told me to bugger off.”
“What?” George asks, sobering instantly. “She didn’t.”
“Not in so many words,” I admit. “But believe me, the sentiment was the same.”
“I’m sorry, Henry,” George says. “I truly didn’t think—”
“No, you didn’t,” I say, turning away from him. “How much longer are you going to subject me to this indignity?”
“Let me find Alice,” he says. “She’ll help us. I think she’s in one of the sitting rooms with the other chaperones.”
He wonders off and I look back to the dance floor, hoping to get another glance at Lily before I leave. I can at least enjoy looking even if I don’t speak to her. But when I see Harrington alone, I’m instantly worried about her. I step forward to get a better look at the crowd and see Constance chatting with some other women, but Lily isn’t with her either. Where did she go?
I walk to the other end of the room, in the direction she and Harrington danced to when I lost sight of them, but I don’t see her anywhere.
I’m starting to grow increasingly concerned when I notice that one of the large glass doors is open. Perhaps she slipped out for a bit of air. It is terribly close in here. In fact, a bit of fresh air wouldn’t go amiss. I cross over to the door and slip
outside.
There is still a bit of setting sunlight as it is only eight o’clock and summer. We are just outside of London town. Lord Ellsworth has a small nearby estate, not a townhouse like most of us. This side of the house is flanked by a long, wide walk. I look both ways but don’t see Lily. I walk toward a set of stone stairs that lead down to a walkway and cultured gardens just as a flurry of pink fabric disappears behind a shrub.
I go down the stairs, trying to catch her, and forget about my condition at just the wrong moment. My foot hits a lower step before my cane does, and my hip simply can’t support the weight. I try to catch myself as I crumble to the ground, but it’s a losing battle, and I try to protect myself from the fall as best I can, wrapping my arms about me. I hit the stone stair hard, and then the next one, and the next before I finally come to a stop, the breath having been knocked out of me. I lay there gasping like a helpless fish out of water for a moment before I try to push myself up.
From around the shrub, Lily appears, holding a handful of flowers. She gasps and rushes toward me.
“Lord Henry!” she says. “What happened? Shall I fetch a doctor?”
“No!” I say more loudly than I intended, and I see Lily flinch. “No,” I try to say more gently. “Please, don’t draw attention. It was an accident.”
She wraps her hands around one of my arms. “I’ll help you.”
I’m mortally embarrassed and wish the fall had killed me, but if I want to get off the ground I’m going to have to let her assist me.
“Yes,” I say. “Please, just help me to sit there on the step.”
Lily lays her flowers aside and wraps my arm around her shoulder. For such a small woman, she’s surprisingly strong. Leaning on her and the cane, I’m safely sitting on the stair in no time.
“Thank you,” I say as I catch my breath. I look down and see that I’m covered in a light sheen of dust and there is a tear in one of my sleeves. I try to dust myself off and Lily sits on the step next to me.
“Oh! You’re dress,” I say, afraid it is going to get dirty.
“Too late,” she says, showing me her hands stained yellow with pollen and streaked with dirt. She wipes her hand on her dress without a thought and I can’t help but smile.
“You dropped your flowers,” I point out.
“Oh,” she says, and she scampers off the step, picks them up, and then comes and sits back next to me. She turns the flowers this way and that and then holds them to her nose, inhaling their scent. She then offers the flowers to me. I take a breath.
“Lovely,” I say. “What are they?”
“Umm… This blue one is Delphinium,” she says. “It can grow six feet tall and does well in the sun, so it will add some nice color to the terraced plots at the house. This one is lavender, which I have fields of back home, but I don’t have any here. I’ll actually dry these to make a sleeping tonic.”
“You can make a tonic from a plant?” I ask.
She gives a little laugh. “Of course! Where do you think medicines and tonics come from?”
“I…I guess I never thought about it.”
She giggles again and I think this is first time I’ve seen her smile so carefreely.
“Go on,” I tell her.
“Okay,” she says. “This one is a foxglove. I have a pink one back at the terrace already, but not white. They will look so pretty together.”
“They look like upside-down trumpets,” I say, and Lily laughs again. I’m suddenly struck with the knowledge that I’d love to make her laugh all the time. She’s not afraid to show her teeth when she laughs and her eyes crinkle. She’s adorable. Most ladies cover their mouths and try not to laugh for fear of wrinkles later. Lily doesn’t seem to care about such things.
“Won’t they all die?” I ask as I reach out and touch some of the leaves on the stems. “You know, since you broke them off?”
“Not at all,” she says. “I can take them home and tend to them in my greenhouse. They will eventually take root and then I can plant them in my own garden.”
“You can do that?” I ask, amazed. “I didn’t know such a thing was possible.”
Lily smiles and then looks back at her flowers, turning them around and appreciating their beauty.
“What are you doing out here?” I can’t help asking. “I mean, other than gathering flowers. I saw you dancing with Lord Harrington.”
She stops smiling. “Then you must have seen how terrible I was at it.”
“I didn’t notice,” I say. She narrows her gaze at me, her jaw tight.
“Are you teasing me, sir?” she asks.
“What?” I ask, confused. “No. Why would you—”
“Because I shouldn’t like to be teased, sir,” she says, and I think her eyes are watering. “It isn’t kind.”
“Lily, no,” I say. “I wasn’t teasing you. I’d never do that. I’m sorry if I’ve upset you.”
“I hate dancing!” she says, and I see a tear drip down her cheek. I feel horrible for upsetting her, but I’m not sure what I said. “I can’t remember the steps. It’s so embarrassing.”
“I know how you feel,” I say, and she glares at me.
“How?” she asks, and I’m speechless for a moment. Has she forgotten about my cane? I hold it up for her to see.
“I haven’t danced in a very long time,” I say, and her cheeks flush a pretty pink, nearly the color of her dress.
“Oh, Lord Henry, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot! Of course.”
“You forgot?” I ask. “Why do you think we are sitting on the ground? Are you teasing me now?”
She looks away and she pounds on the cement step with her little fist.
“No,” she says, looking back at me, her jaw set tight. “I truly forgot. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I say, and we stare at each other for a long moment.
I can’t figure this girl out. What’s going through her mind. She actually forgot? Does the cane truly not register with her? Does she not see the cane…but me?
“Lily—” I start.
“I should go,” she says, standing. “I’ll find your brother for you.”
She turns to leave, and I know I should let her go. But I can’t. I grab her hand and she looks down at me.
“Lily, stay.”
Chapter Nine
Lily
I stare down at his hand in utter confusion. He wants me to stay? Even after I acted so stupid? Crying, getting angry, crying again. I’m such a fool. I just don’t know how to talk to people.
I should go. Leave before I make a bigger fool of myself. And yet…I want to stay. I see only sincerity in his eyes. I look back up at the house and the bright lights coming from the windows. I hear the laughter, the music. I also remember the crushing of the crowd, people staring at me, and being forced to dance and look a fool. I certainly don’t want to go back to that.
I clear my throat and turn back to Henry, sitting on the step again, but a little farther away from him this time. I didn’t realize I had been sitting so close. It couldn’t have been appropriate. I tuck my dress under my legs, unsure of what to say, and he seems flustered as well. Why did he want me to stay?
“Your dress is very nice,” he finally says. “I hope it isn’t too dirty to save.”
“Hmm,” I say, looking at a smudge near my knee. “Well, if it were up to me I’d keep it. I’m sure no one else would notice a little bit of dirt. But when Mama examines my clothes she’ll make sure it’s tossed out.”
“Seems like a waste,” he says.
I nod. “I give them to my maid, Abigail, to sell. It gives her a bit of extra money.”
“You don’t keep the money she makes from selling them?” he asks, looking at me quizzically. “It can’t be a small amount she earns.”
I shrug. “Why would I need money? I have everything I need. Though… Well, hmm. I suppose I should have been saving some of it. Then maybe I wouldn’t be in this predicament.”
“What pred
icament is that?” he asks.
“Being forced to marry,” I say, and he gapes at me for a moment.
“Forced?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to be,” I say. “If my father dies and I’m not married my dowry will go back to the estate—to my cousin Albert. I’ll be a penniless relation, forced to live on the kindness of my sisters or mother. They love me, of course, but I don’t think they understand me. I shouldn’t like to have live the rest of my life dependent on them.”
“What should you like to do?” he asks.
“I always wanted to live in a little cottage surrounded by a beautiful garden. Just me and my plants. Maybe a little dog for company.”
“Alone?” he asks.
I shrug. “I suppose. I can’t imagine anyone ever wanting to marry me.”
He’s silent, and I think he must agree, but he doesn’t want to hurt my feelings. I don’t look at him. I don’t want to feel disappointed. Even if Henry doesn’t want to marry me—how could he?—I enjoy his company. It would be nice if I could at least count him among my few friends.
I feel warmth on my hand and I realize he’s holding it. I look up and see something in his face I can’t identify. Nothing I’ve seen before. He’s not smiling, but neither is he frowning. He’s not angry, but he is looking at me so intently, I am afraid he might be able to read my mind.
“Lily,” he says, his voice little more than a breath of air. “Will…will you help me stand?”
“Oh! Of course,” I say, getting to my feet. He grabs the stone banister to his side with one hand, and I pull him up by his other one. He then uses his cane to find his balance. He still holds my hand, and I don’t try to let go.
“Will you dance with me?” he asks, and I laugh. He must be joking. Didn’t we just talk about how neither of us can dance? But he isn’t laughing.
“What?” I ask. “How? What do you mean?”