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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.
****
The hordes of people had disappeared by now. There was not one living soul
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 puls
ing 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.
****
“Miss! Miss! Wake up!”
“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
with nothing. Undisturbed, for she trusted Janie's taste implicitly, she
shrugged her shoulder nonchalantly. “Fine. Fine. Is my bath ready?” she
asked, more interested in the prospect of the soothing warmth from the hot
bathwater, which she hoped would ease her still racing heart.
“Aye. Waiting for you in the garderobe.”
“Fabulous! I feel rather disgusting.”
“Well, these town folks all smell rather disgusting to me, miss, and I doubt
you smell as bad they! Come, I let you sleep overlong so we must hurry with
your toilet.”
With a sigh, Lily acceded to her maid's wishes. Quickly, she was pressed into
the bath and she soaped her private areas and generally refreshed her body
from the damp blanket of sweat that had overcome her upon waking.
As soon as her thoughts pressed on her dream, she quickly scurried away
from it and concentrated on Janie's bustling form.
Once cleansed of the natural oils her body produced while sleeping, she
stood and patted herself down with a cloth before alighting from the tub and
returning to her chamber, where Janie had laid out her dress for ease on the
bed. At its side, were the jewels she was to wear.
Janie, armored with Lily's chemise, helped her change into it and then led
her over to the bed and helped her into the dress. Lily looked down as she
was molded into the silver material and still did not recognize it as one she
had selected from her modiste.
“Wait a minute, Janie! This isn't a dress of my aunt's choosing, is it?”
Janie tutted. “Honestly, that's from having far too many dresses for your
own good, miss, that is. Fancy not knowing! This arrived last week, after
your visit to that French woman.”
The latter was said with a sniff. Janie was certain Madame Boliage was lying
about her noble lineage and was instead a lady of the night. Not that Lily
was supposed to even have any awareness of that term! But then, Lily knew
of much that was classed as indecent for a virginal lady's ears!
“I don't remember it.”
“Well, I was there when you chose it, miss.”
“As long as that's the case. You know me, Janie, I'm never all that interested
when I'm at Madame Boliage's.”
“That's true. Is it any wonder your aunt was forced to make the decisions for
you, when you first came to town, miss!”
Lily grinned. She had always enjoyed Janie's forthrightness and in the midst
of the pompousness that was London, it was always refreshing to be scolded
by her maid. “Forgive me, Janie,” she said with a smile and curtsied her
apology. Her polite gesture was received with a snort and a tug on the
fastenings at her back, which had Lily yelpin
g slightly.
When Janie had finished titivating, she moved to the looking glass and
nodded her approval. It was a deceptively simple dress, a complex mixture
of Roman styling and an Empire silhouette, high-waisted to suit the latter,
but resting in swathes and swags as befit a Roman toga. It was tight at the
bosom, but not indecently so and the silver added a rosy peach color to her
skin.
She sat at her dressing table and allowed Janie to dress her hair. Matching
silver velvet and silk ribbons were slotted through the curls and pulled into a
pleasant style that displayed Lily's face superbly. It was tousled yet as with
her dress, artfully and deceptively difficultly fashioned.
Her jewels were naught but wired ear rings and an arm ring, both cast in
silver with pearls adorning them. They augmented her appearance and had
she not had the threat of the night before cast over her, then there would
have been some sense of anticipation for the evening ahead.
As had been the natural course of the recent weeks past, she'd felt
excitement during her toilette but almost moments after arriving at
whatever jaunt her aunt was taking her to, it had instantly diminished into
that apathetic boredom. For wherever they seemed to go, there were always
the same tedious people, similar music, warm lemonade and the overlong
dances that seemed to go on for a decade!
Now, she wished for that! Wished that it could be so simple. For even
tediousness was a vast improvement on what she was feeling at this
moment in time!
Fear, dread, horror - the melange of emotions had a sick feeling settling in
her stomach and it added a greyish tinge to her skin, which thankfully wasn't
all that noticeable. Except to herself!
“There we are, miss. You look beautiful!”
“Thank you, Janie.”
“Those gents don't know what they're missing. Why you've not been offered
for yet, is beyond me. That silly girl, Lady Derst's daughter . . . . Well, I
know her maid and she says that she's never met a sillier and more
ridiculous chit! Yet she's had offers aplenty! It's not fair,” Janie complained
gruffly.
“Ah, but you're forgetting, Janie. I'm not silly enough to fall for the ploys of
the rake hells or those after my fortune. They know that and so, they steer
clear of me. And for that, I'm most grateful! Regardless of their unsuitability,