by Owner
“And what would you have me do? As close as we are, Devlin is hardly likely
to travel down from the estate simply to buy me some jewelry if I were to
write to him. And in any case, he would only do so, were his character to
have changed overnight! Which I highly doubt! I had to buy it then and
there, Janie. I would have cried for days if it had been sold from under my
very nose!
“And anyway, Devlin is far more interested in purchasing jewels for his
mistresses than his sister, Janie!” At the explosion of censure that swiftly
surrounded her, she merely cocked a brow and fought hard to still her lips
from twitching. “I'm hardly an infant, Janie! Rodgers! I do know about these
things! I also know that that is why Hemingtons is a renowned jeweler for
gentleman.” She grinned wickedly. “Imagine a Cyprian wearing something
from that jeweler! Why, how ridiculous! Where on earth would they wear
those kinds of jewels?”
“Ma'am!” Rodgers spluttered.
“It isn't done to discuss these things, Miss Lily!” Janie retorted, her voice
filled with shock and chastisement. “Y-You can't talk about Cyprians as
though you were discussing the lending library! I raised you better than
that!”
Lily narrowed her eyes at that. Just because she knew about Cyprians did
not make her a brat or a spoiled and rude miss!
“Well, unfortunately, I do know about these things and I see no reason to
hide the fact that I am well aware that this world isn't perfect.”
“No, my lady, perhaps not, but it simply isn't done!” Rodgers concurred with
Janie and this time, Lily noted with inward amusement, shot the maid a nod
of approval. Amazing, she thought, how one slight sign of indiscretion and
two people whose opinions differed greatly, could be joined so firmly in this
matter.
“You need not tell me that,” Lily said quietly. “I am no fool. I will not
mention this to Aunt Millie or anyone of my acquaintance. But if I cannot
speak to my lady's maid, whom I have known since birth, or my aunt's long-
standing and highly respected butler, then with whom may I speak?
“I am well aware that my brother has a mistress. Indeed, I believe that I
met her last night at the Compton's musicale. The world of the ton is quite
hypocritical, I find, and unbearably ridiculous. Debutantes are sent into this
strange world with not an ounce of protection and people are shocked and
dismayed, when the Misses fall foul of the evil in our society.” She shook her
head and pursed her lips with distaste. The action physically dispelled her
desire to talk of her brother's mistress for a moment longer and so, she
returned to her maid's earlier comment with a faint shake of her head. "And
we all know that my mama finds it difficult enough to break her fast, never
mind travel to London simply to purchase a necklace and earring set for me.
Even if it is a perfect display of pre-revolutionary France's opulence and
drama,” she murmured gleefully.
Janie, spying her mistress' desire to change the topic, dove into the
conversation feet first. "Opulence is the right word, Miss Lily! Mr. Rodgers,
I've never seen anything like it! And how you expect to wear it, Miss Lily, is
beyond me!” she chided with a tut.
“I shall cope with the weight,” Lily demurred with a grin.
“You shall have too! I wouldn't be surprised it if weighed more than a caddy
of tea! Sixty pounds! It's shameful. I don't even receive half that per
annum!”
Lily arched a brow. “Are you asking for a rise in salary, Janie?” Then burst
out laughing as her maid turned the color of beetroot. “I am teasing, Janie.
Fear not. You are correct . . . ,” she conceded wryly. “It was an obscene
amount of money to spend on a set of jewelry and had there not been a
history behind each piece and perfect providence, then I wouldn't have
purchased them, would have simply worn my favorite diamond pendant.
But, this is an investment, Janie. I do not doubt that in a few years’ time, it
will have trebled in value!”
Janie pursed her lips and shrugged her shoulders. “If you say so, Miss Lily.
Although, I'm not altogether sure that it will even match the shot-silver
dress. It is gold, after all! I wouldn't have thought you could have worn
those two colors together!”
Lily laughed. “Of course not. They don't match! But what a perfect blank
canvas upon which to display the historical set. Magic. Indeed, I cannot wait
until the jeweler sends it around this evening. As soon as it arrives, Rodgers,
would you bring it to my room? If you're interested in our discussion, you
would perhaps like to see what lies at the center of our argument?” she
directed at the butler and watched as the tips of his ears turned pink. Poor
Rodgers, she thought drily, any slight sign of the softening between ranks
and he puffed up like a hedgehog.
"Perhaps, my lady,” he uttered hoarsely, his voice rather choked.
Lily simply smiled and knew that he would rather die than be seen to
encourage any relationship of the sort between herself and him. Nodding,
she half-turned and passed the white kid gloves to Janie before she stepped
into the hall proper. As she did, her eyes centered on a missive that rested
directly in the middle of a silver salver, which lay on the hall table.
Instantly, she froze and felt Janie bump into her. Any thoughts of the set she
had just purchased were immediately forgotten, any joy she had felt at
finding such a perfect investment had disintegrated into dust. Rodgers
swiftly reached for her arms to keep her from falling and when he was sure
that Lily was settled on her feet, he released her from his hold with a formal
bow. "You have a letter, my lady,” he murmured helpfully.
He walked the few paces to the table and returned with the salver in his
gloved hand. She stared at the missive as though it had fangs, which were
bared and snapping at her. Indeed, Lily felt quite sure that she would have
found it easier to lift the letter from the tray and open it, even though the
fate of her hand would have been at stake! For she knew, instinctively and
terrifyingly knew that it was from the blackmailer.
Dread pierced her gut and nausea flooded her as she tried to assimilate that
now, even though a week had passed, a blessedly silent week, he wanted
her services again.
Services! She felt almost like vomiting at the thought.
In all her life, Lily had never believed that she would end up prostituting
herself and all in the name of protecting her mother.
Perhaps the fates were laughing at her situation. Perhaps her life was naught
but a cosmic joke to amuse those no longer affected by the realities of life.
Her eyes began to water and it was harder than she cared to admit to
contain the tears that threatened at any moment to leak and course down
the curves of her cheeks. She fought to still them and how she managed,
she would never know. Instead of sobbing as her body craved, she cleared
her throat and mentally girded herself to absorb and assimilate the letter's
contents.
It could not be any worse than what she had already had to do, could it?
Nothing could be worse than having gifted her maidenhead to a man who
had believed himself to be in a dream, aided by the addition of alcohol to his
already grieving and confused system, which had his late lamented wife as
his lover.
Indeed, nothing could be worse than that!
Nothing could be worse than hearing the man you were seducing call you by
another name, especially when that man had incredibly come to mean so
much more than he should have done.
It seemed as though the fates were playing with her yet again, for Dorian
was indeed coming to hold more importance to her than she had ever
imagined possible. In the week since their last meeting, Lily had sought him
out at every occasion and ton event she and her family had attended. He
had not been at any one of them and upon realizing that, the level of
distress and disappointment she had felt, was at a ridiculously high level.
Indeed, she felt quite ashamed at her desire to see him again. To see the
man, who for reasons yet unknown was at the very epicenter of a blackmail
plot, which had touched her life and effectively ruined it in one fell swoop.
She lifted a shaky hand and pressed it to her damp brow. It couldn't be love,
could it? Lily asked herself with an inner cry of pain.
Life, God, destiny . . . they couldn't be so unkind as to gift her the love of
her life, when that man still grieved and adored his dead wife, could they?
She gulped a little and felt a slight bubble of sick rise from her gullet. Her
features twisted at the abhorrent and physical taste of her nausea and she
had to suck in a swift breath to calm herself down. Her eyes were glued to
the precisely and perfectly squared letter and while she knew that it was
ridiculous to react to the missive as though it had indeed grown a pair of
teeth, Lily couldn't help it. She could not help it at all.
“Miss Lily? Whatever is the matter?”
Janie's voice sounded as though it were traveling from a very large distance
and only when her maid shook her by the elbow, did she even react.
"Pardon?” she asked, her voice a hoarse whisper.
“Are you ill, my lady?” Rodgers asked, concerned by the paleness of her
usually vibrant and healthy hued skin.
“I-I'm fine,” she returned quietly and continued to stare at the letter. It was
only then, as she said the words, did she understand why she wasn't fine.
For surrounding that simple piece of paper, which had been folded and
sealed with wax to hide its contents, was a blacker than black evil and even
though it could have come from any number of people, that aura alone
informed her that it was from her blackmailer and that it held nothing but
bad news.
A part of her wanted to cry out and simply divulge all of the salacious details
to her confidante and life-long companion, Janie. But how could she?
Her maid had been horrified at Lily's disclosure at her knowledge of Devlin's
love life, which in fairness she only knew as Sara Doverby, an old friend, had
overheard a conversation between Devlin's chere-amie and that lady's
friend. But regardless of how she had learned of that knowledge, her maid
had been frankly disgusted at Lily's statement and so, what would she be
were Lily to divulge the whole truth?
Would she be looked upon with scorn and no pity?
Would she be viewed as a harlot? Would Janie run to Lily's aunt with the
information and would she find herself being returned home like an
unwanted parcel?
It seemed unpleasantly possible and so, she held out her hand and reached
for the sharp and crisp letter. Her fingers ran along the corners of the
missive and she stared down at it somberly. Only shrugging out of her
stupor as Janie curled her fingers about Lily's shoulder and jerked her once,
twice and then a final third time. “Miss Lily! What on earth is the matter?”
she barked angrily.
With dazed eyes, Lily turned to Janie and felt despair course though her.
How she longed to speak of her torment, longed to release herself from this
cage of silence. But how could she?
“Nothing. I-I'll be away to my rooms, Janie. You can have the rest of the
afternoon as your own,” she whispered instead, her tone somber.
Janie blinked with surprise and frowned. “I thought we were going to select
the outfits you wanted to wear for the next few days’ events?”
“We were. But I just remembered that I have to write to my mama. Enjoy
your free afternoon, Janie,” Lily quickly muttered and rushed away from the
two perplexed servants and hurried over to the stairs. Every part of her
wanted to climb two steps at a time, but she could not. For then, Janie
would know that something was amiss and a curious and inquisitive Janie
did not bode well for any secrets Lily had hidden.
Memories flooded her mind of similar occasions. From a wild hare that she
and Devlin had managed to trap without causing the small beast any injury
and had intended to keep as a pet- Janie had soon found the petrified beast
in a trove filled with toys and games. To a secreted diary that had found its
way into her mother's possession, when there had been an entry describing
a kiss with a friend's elder brother- her papa had threatened to have her
whipped, were she to do anything of the like ever again.
Laughing ghoulishly at the thought, for she had done much worse now than
simply share a peck on the lips from an older man! Lily continued the slow
pace until she reached the top step and could turn on to her corridor. From
there, she began to run and hurried down the hallway to her room. Swiftly,
she opened the door and slammed it, hurling herself against its broad
surface as soon as it was closed. She stared down at her trembling hands,
hands that contained the missive.
As she continued to stare down at it, Lily began to slip down to the floor and
as soon as her buttocks rested against the chilled surface of the wooden
parquet, she flipped the letter over and fingered the hardened wax seal.
Tracing the blank design of the seal, which gave not one hint of the writer's
identity, she pulled the top flap away and watched as the wax pulled taut
and then ripped. She sucked in a deep breath once the letter was opened
and then blanched at the one sentence, which graced the blank sheet.
Tonight. One o'clock. Be prepared.
Her lips curled inwards as she attempted to stem the desolation that coursed
through her and to no avail. Tears began to flood her eyes and with a fury
that was born from impotence, she began to shred the paper into thousands
of pieces. When not a segment remained whole, she gathered them in her
palm and strode over to the blazing fire, before throwing each small section
on to the flame.
She watched with burning eyes as the flames ate at the paper until only
ashes remained of the blackmailer's missive. With hatred coursing through
her, she had to fight to stem the agony that rushed alongside it and the only
relief came from the knowledge that tonight, she would be with a man who
meant more
to her than he should. Who meant more to her than her heart
could probably withstand.
Shuddering slightly, she took a step away from the fireplace and brushed the
tears from her cheeks. Stalking over towards the dressing-table which stood
near the window and was laden with myriad ointments and pots of
maquillage, she bent low and examined her features in the looking glass,
seeking any implication of her misery and any trace of tears.
When Lily noted that she looked relatively untouched, if a trifle pale, she
dropped down on to the seat before her reflection and gathered some of
Janie's beautifying tools. Smoothing some Pear's White Imperial Powder on
to her cheeks, which was used to cover any blemishes upon her complexion,
she dimmed the pinkened cheeks, which spoke of her rude health, and
enhanced the pale hue of her skin. She then gathered some rouge on her
index finger and blended the color under her eyes.
Having used a light hand with both cosmetic aids, the look she had
administered was entirely natural and she looked as though she had indeed
come down with a nasty head cold.
Pleased, she stood once more and stalked over towards the door. Tonight,
her aunt and uncle had intended to accompany her to the theater once
again. She would have to persuade them to go without her and leave her to
rest in bed.
She hoped the use of cosmetics would enhance the idea that she needed to
rest, rather than prod her aunt into believing she required a physician! Being
prodded at by a doctor was the last thing she needed!
And so, Lily fled to her aunt's sitting room to plead her malady and within
the hour, was helped up the stairs by a tutting Aunt Millie and thereafter
tucked into bed with a slight scolding for overtiring herself.
When Lily was once more alone, she forced herself to relax and to sleep. The
rest of her day might be quiet, but the night was to be busy.
Squeezing her eyes closed at the thought, Lily pressed her face into a pillow
and blotted out the rest of the world, ultimately managing to sleep through
the afternoon and the early parts of the evening, before secretly preparing
herself for the task that lay ahead.
****
With a ragged sigh, Dorian rested his elbows on his knees as he stared at
the flickering flames of the roaring fire. Fatigue rushed through him and he