The morning room was a rococo horror, clearly the work of their grandfather. Though the room was a pleasing circular shape with arches and tall windows overlooking a garden, the décor was outrageously gaudy. An extravagant marble hearth, a too-wide ornamental, gilded frieze of garlands and volutes, and a stucco ceiling of Pan, masquerade masks, and mythological madness overwhelmed the modestly small space.
Sebastian greeted her with a smile before returning to the letter in his hand. His plate, she noticed, was already empty. As early of a riser as she was, it surprised her that her brother awoke even earlier. Selecting a few items from the buffet, she filled a plate with light fare.
She took the seat next to him, unfolded her napkin, and was about to take a bite when Sebastian said, “Eat. I want us to talk before Collingwood joins us.”
Oh dear.
After only a few bites, she pushed away her plate. “Well? I can hardly eat now, and I don’t wish to feel rushed.”
Sebastian studied her with penetrating eyes. She was always under the impression he could read her thoughts straight to the back of her skull.
“Very well.” He folded the letter and added it to a stack of others. “But first, coffee.”
Building the anticipation, he refilled his cup. She cringed to watch him drink it black. He took precisely three sips before setting it down with a firm clink.
“I spoke with my steward yesterday. He has been on a mission for about a month.”
Hands folded over her napkin, she raised her eyebrows. “A mission?”
“What would you say if I told you I’ve found your birth mother?”
Her heart seized. Oh, she did not want this. No, no, no, she did not want this.
“I would say that I don’t want to know anything about her. I’ve no wish to reunite with a woman who abandoned me for her livelihood. I understand why she did. I don’t need an explanation, and there’s no reason to rekindle a relationship I never had. Jane was the only mother I knew, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
She twisted her napkin around her hands, kneading it, knotting it, untying it.
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. I hated to disappoint you should you want to meet her since she’s dead.”
He blurted this out so boldly and so matter-of-factly, Lilith dropped the napkin.
“Oh,” was all she could say.
Sebastian waited, watching her as though expecting her to sprout wings.
When it was clear she had no intention of saying anything further, though she was dying to ask a million questions about a woman she had only just said she did not wish to meet, he spoke.
“She passed within months of leaving you at the hall. Her father was the old coachman, as you know. Before you wonder, he passed a few years ago. One could conclude Lily Chambers never intended to abandon you, not until she discovered she was consumptive.”
“Oh,” Lilith said again.
How different life would have been. How peculiar life was. How strange the stirrings in her heart to know her mother had not abandoned her but had saved her life. She wanted to grieve for a mother she did not know and only moments ago had rejected.
“Why did you try to find her?” she asked.
“I never intended to search for her. As far as I’m concerned, Jane was your mother just as much as she was mine. After speaking with Collingwood, we felt it best to discover her whereabouts. And in light of the findings, I thought you had a right to know.”
“Walter?” she asked, incredulous. “After speaking with Walter? Why would you and Walter wish to know her whereabouts?”
“He was worried about potential scandal. You know I want to introduce you to all of society as my sister, my full blood and very legitimate sister. He worried there could be impediments to such a plan.”
“Ah, I see. He worried I would embroil him in scandal. What did he plan to do if you found her? Pay her for her silence? Why is it men must always meddle? I have relied on myself my entire life. I do not need or want the meddling of men.”
She railed at him, though she could not say why.
It was not so shocking, after all, that Walter worried of a scandal. And she was happy to learn the truth of her birth mother.
But she railed at Sebastian nevertheless.
If people had left well enough alone. If everyone had left her alone to make her own choices. She would— Well. She would make her own choices, that was what.
Not wanting to say more lest she say something she would regret, she excused herself from the table.
The Great Hall was an overly large drawing room of Rococo brilliance. It was not to Walter’s taste, but he could appreciate the stucco and marble mastery. The design was not too different than the morning room. Roddam had explained over breakfast that the money had gone into the house rather than to pay the workers or staff, which was one of the many reasons he had inherited a nearly bankrupt earldom, along with barren fields and a house in sore disrepair, a fact in seeming contradiction to the splendor of some of the baroque rooms.
Personally, Walter preferred understated décor. Trelowen was certainly that, at least in comparison to Roddam Hall. After hearing the woes of Roddam’s inheritance, Walter was even more grateful his father had hired an exceptional steward. Walter knew from his father that had it not been for his mother’s dowry, the Collingwood estate would have faced dark times. In addition to paying enormous debts, the dowry had paid for the hire of a new steward.
It was in the Rococo Great Hall that Walter awaited his fate. He was in trouble. When he refreshed and changed after his morning run, he had found only Roddam in the morning room, reading a stack of letters. Roddam warned him of Lilith’s upset. Walter was chagrined.
All the same, what was done was done, and he could not see that he had done anything terribly wrong. It was not as though he had wanted to arrange their reunion or had wanted to notify her birth mother of Lilith’s whereabouts. On the contrary, he had wanted to ensure the woman would never interfere with Lilith’s happiness.
Armed with good intentions, he convinced himself she would not be too mad and would even like to stroll the park with him after she had her say.
Poised in a chair by the window, he held a book he was not reading. She would seek him out when she was ready to confront him. He knew her well enough to wager she would. One leg crossed over the other, he swung a foot.
He did not have long to wait. That is, if someone considered staring unseeing at a book for two hours not long to wait. Who was he fooling? It had been nearly three if he did not round down. A wasted morning if ever he knew one. He would have ridden with Roddam about the home farm if he had known she would avoid him this long.
But no, he was not waiting. He was reading. Engrossed in a book. So engrossed, he lost track of time. He peered at the title page. Yes, an engrossing, page-turning encyclopedia. In French. His thumb wedged between page three and four.
When the door to the Great Hall opened and Lilith entered, he rose from his chair and he gave a bow, the book held to his face.
“Ah, there you are,” she said in a firm, clipped voice.
She joined him and nodded for him to sit.
Obeying in gentleman politeness, he sat but did not look up from his book. He was engrossed, after all.
He turned a page.
Only fleetingly did he glance up when she cleared her throat. She said nothing, and so, he returned to a careful study of a half-page image detailing decorative niches and pediments.
“You had no right,” were her opening words.
Peeking over the top of the book, he was greeted by a furrowed brow, piercing dark eyes, and a grim mouth. It did not take a mind reader to realize she was more upset than he had expected. In hindsight, he knew he had made the wrong decision to inquire after her birth mother. And now, all he wanted to do was grovel for forgiveness. But had it
been so terrible to want to help her? No, he had not made a wrong decision; rather, he had gone about that decision incorrectly. He should have spoken with her first.
Walter set the book in his lap and opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand.
“It was not your business to find my birth mother. If I had wanted to find her, I would have done so myself.”
He started to speak again, and she once more held up a staying hand.
“I am pleased now that it is done, as I can put a great many things to rest with the news, but you are never to interfere with my life without my permission.”
“I never intended to—”
“Don’t you dare say you didn’t plan to interfere. You did. Intentionally. You set out to save yourself from the scandal of allying with a bastard. I think you the worst sort of hypocrite. You’ve insisted to me on numerous occasions you’re not daunted by the possibility of scandal, and yet you’ve gone behind my back to ensure my past doesn’t scandalize you.”
Uncrossing his legs, he leaned forward, agitated, desperate to defend himself. This was not at all going how he had expected.
“It was not about me I worried, Lilith. I didn’t want you haunted by the past.”
She laughed harshly. “Liar. What do I care about scandal? It’s your family who would suffer. I don’t blame you. In all likelihood, I might have done the same thing. But this is my life, and you will not make decisions for me.”
“This isn’t fair,” he defended. “I’ve—”
She cut in, interrupting him. “If you’re only interested in me as Lady Lilith, you can leave. Has this all been a game to you? You thought you could land yourself an earl’s daughter with a sizable dowry thanks to her brother? Am I so easy a catch to you? The aging spinster no one else wants? If only I would lie to the world that I’m legitimate, you could have money enough to fulfill all your philanthropic dreams while I’m left to rot in a drawing room serving prissy women endless cups of tea and conversation about the weather. Is that it? Are you so similar to Harry Sands?”
“Oh, I say, Lilith. This is—”
“I invited you to Allshire to see me. To see my life. To see who I am and what I must contend with in your world. If you’ve only been interested in the hope I will deny my illegitimacy, you need to leave me be. I’ve no idea what I will decide, but that decision must be mine, and I will make the one right for me.”
Her accusations were devastating. She could not for a minute believe those things, could she? Had the rector led her to believe that of him? Lilith went ever so slightly out of focus. He blinked rapidly, not daring to cry over a trifling misunderstanding. Trouble was, it did not feel so trifling.
“Lilith,” he said softly, begging her silently not to interrupt. “If you want me to shout from the rooftops that your grandfather was a coachman, I’ll do it. I don’t care. And you know I don’t care. When the time comes, and it doesn’t have to be this minute, but when the time comes for you to choose, I want you to choose without fear. Please, understand, it’s you I’m thinking of, not me. I know how you’re treated. I’ve seen it. I don’t want you to worry they’ll do that in spades. I swear to you on everything I hold dear; I’ve only thought of you.”
She heaved a sigh and slumped against the back of the chair. “I know,” she whispered.
They stared at each other for a time. Her face was pale and drawn. He had a world of words but they all sounded nothing short of begging.
“This has to be my decision, Walter, and by my own making,” she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “If I want to enter society as Lady Lilith, then I will find a way to do it. I need you to support whatever choice I make, even if that’s to return to Allshire as the humble Miss Chambers. Men have done nothing but meddle. My father, the rector, even my brother, and now you. Everyone has made decisions about my life, forcing me here and forcing me there, never giving me a choice. I need to decide where I belong.”
Lilith folded her hands in prayer and pressed the tips of her middle fingers to her lips. “I need you to understand, Walter. I need you to understand the battle I’m fighting. I want you to know that this has nothing to do with you or how I feel about you. And it has nothing to do with my illegitimacy. Yes, that complicates matters, but it does not affect my decision.”
He felt a horrid sense of foreboding, as though she had already made her decision and was finding a way to let him down lightly. His fingers curled in a fist so tight, his trimmed nails dug into his palm.
“The trouble is,” she said, “I’ve led an unreliable life, always being uprooted, never knowing my place. I have spent my adult years fighting to create a place and create reliability. I’ve worked harder than you can imagine to achieve respectability and make a home for myself. I may not earn much, but what I do earn is from hard work, talent, and personal satisfaction. I could drop everything and move in with Sebastian if I wanted. But that’s not the point. The point is how hard I’ve worked to create a life I love. Choosing to leave that life is frightening beyond words. I would be starting all over.”
He was about to interrupt, remind her of some of the ideas they had exchanged, but she continued talking.
“Beyond that, I don’t know if I can put myself through the treatment of people like the Carmichaels. At the ball, I stood there with a stiff upper lip because it was the thing to do, but every word was a dagger to my heart. You cannot know what it’s like. Everyone loves you. You cannot know what it’s like to be publicly ignored or publicly mocked. Have you ever had someone move to the other side of the street to avoid you? I have. These are the things with which I must contend in making my choice.”
“Would life with me be so miserable?” he asked, his voice cracking, his fingers aching.
“That’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is I don’t know if I can handle the burdens of your station. If I steel myself enough, it could be possible, but I haven’t decided. The instability and unforeseeable frightens me. I…I need more time.”
He nodded, hanging his head, not sure if this was the end or the beginning. They still had a couple of days at the hall. He had not yet proposed. There was still time. The news of her mother had been emotional, and his involvement in the search had been a blow. With a bit more time, she would come around. He was not sure what he would do if she did not.
“Do you like your room?” she asked.
He looked up, surprised by the change of topic. A bit of color had been restored to her cheeks, and she tried to smile.
“Good. It’s large. Overlooks a topiary garden. Dashed room has a name,” he said with a feigned laugh to match her forced smile. “The Zeus Room. Silliest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Her smile almost appeared genuine when she replied. “I’m in the Hera Room.”
This time he did laugh. “Are you really? Your brother has quite a sense of humor.”
The moment died just as quickly as it began. Walter had a terrible churning in his gut that this was the beginning of the end.
The evening brought rain, a light patter on the window that both relaxed Lilith and kept her from sleep, quite the contradiction.
Nestling under the blankets, she shivered and rubbed her feet together for warmth. With the rain came even colder temperatures, the sharp wind finding its way through every window seam. At least she had the benefit of a fire to warm the room. A warming pan had even been tucked in the sheets by a concerned servant before Lilith went to bed.
But it was not the cold that had her chilled. It was contradictions.
Oh, not about the rain, but other contradictions. Her dreams for her life.
On one hand, she lived a safe and secure life doing what she loved—helping women who had nowhere else to turn. This was her trade, her talent, her passion.
On the other hand, she wanted to belong somewhere, truly belong, and maybe, if her age was not t
oo far advanced, have a family of her own.
How contradictory, how dichotomous to have to sacrifice one for the other. She could not have both.
Here, everything felt right. The estate, the people, the status, the beau—it all felt right. Frighteningly right. It all felt like home. As ecstatic as she should be by this revelation, as much as this should reverse the decision she had already subconsciously made before leaving Allshire, she experienced more fear than comfort. All her searching to find her place of belonging, and all she wanted to do was hide from it.
It was not that she was inadequate for the position of Lady Lilith. That was not her deepest fear. Her fear was the unknown. What frightened her most was not the darkness but the light. She had only ever known darkness.
If she embraced the unknown, made a new life for herself, how long before it was ripped away? She could not belong where she was unwanted. Aristocrats did not want her among their numbers, aristocrats like the Carmichaels. Society would turn on her, just as it had at the village assembly, just as her father had. Society would shatter her dreams.
And then she would be left with nothing.
Instead of her revelation changing her decision, it solidified it. She wanted to run to her cottage and hide. If she could restore the innocence of life from before her brother discovered her…. If she could restore the contentedness and simplicity….
Chapter 22
The mud made soft sucking sounds in protest of Lilith’s half-boots. The rain pitter-pattered against her umbrella. The shower from the previous evening continued through the next morning, a light drizzle that annoyed more than ruined plans. She linked arms with Sebastian who bore the rain against his tricorn and greatcoat in manly stubbornness.
What she had seen so far of the park had brought back more memories than the inside of the house. Outside had been forbidden. As such, she and Sebastian had spent most of their time sneaking outside to frolic in the gardens, stomp through the woods, and roll on the sandy beach.
BaronAndEnchantress_PGolden-eBooks Page 31