Alex surveyed the two of them and spoke dryly.
"Miss Lawson mentioned something about an argument?"
Having risen to his feet at their entrance, Zachary gave Lily a bewildered glance.
"My quick temper is legendary." Lily interceded with a laugh. "I just had to dash out and clear my head. Am I forgiven, Zach?"
"There's nothing to forgive," Zachary said gallantly, coming over to kiss her hand.
Lily switched her hold on Alex's arm to Zachary's. "Zach, I'm afraid you'll have to help me to a chair. I turned my ankle while
I was strolling through the garden." She waved a hand disdainfully in the direction of Wolverton's immaculately groomed landscape. "A root was protruding from the ground, nearly as thick as a man's leg!"
"A slight exaggeration," Alex said sardonically.
"Well, it was quite large, nonetheless." With Zachary's help, she limped dramatically to a nearby chair and eased herself into it.
"We'll have to make a poultice," Penelope exclaimed. "Poor Lily—don't move!" She rushed from the room and headed toward
the kitchen.
Zachary began to question Lily in concern. "How bad is the injury? Is the pain limited solely to your ankle?"
"I'll be perfectly fine." She gave an exaggerated wince. "But perhaps you would return tomorrow, to check on my condition?"
"Every day, until you're better," Zachary promised.
Lily smiled over his head at Wolverton, wondering if the grating sound she heard was his teeth gnashing together.
* * *
By the next day, Lily's ankle felt almost like new, with only a twinge of discomfort as a reminder of having sprained it. The weather was unusually warm and sunny. In the morning Zachary arrived to take her for a carriage ride, and Lily insisted that Penelope accompany them. Brusquely Alex declined Penelope's halfhearted invitation to join them, electing to stay behind and attend some business about the estate. Needless to say, Lily, Penelope, and Zachary were all silently relieved at Alex's refusal. Had he participated in their outing, it would have made things rather tense.
The threesome set off in an open-air carriage. Zachary handled the ribbons expertly, occasionally looking over his shoulder
and grinning at the comments made by his two passengers. Lily and Penelope sat together, their smiling faces shaded by straw bonnets. They came to a fork in the road. At Zachary's suggestion they took the less-traveled avenue, until they reached a particularly beautiful section of country. Zachary pulled the carriage to a stop. They admired the wide green meadow before
them, fragrant with violets, clover, and wild geraniums.
"How lovely!" Penelope exclaimed, pushing an errant blonde curl away from her eyes. "Might we go for a walk? I'd love to
pick some violets for Mother."
"Hmm." Lily shook her head regretfully. "I'm afraid my ankle still pains me a little," she lied. "I'm not up to tromping through
fields today. Perhaps Zachary would volunteer to escort you."
"Oh, I ..." Penelope looked at Zachary's serious, handsome face and blushed with confusion. "I don't think that would be proper."
"Please," Zachary entreated. "It would be my great pleasure."
"But . . . unchaperoned ..."
"Come, we all know Zach's the perfect gentleman," Lily said. "And I will keep my eyes on the two of you the entire time. I'll chaperone from a distance. Of course, if you don't wish to walk, Penny, I would be delighted for you to sit here with me and admire the view from the carriage."
Faced with the decision to walk unchaperoned through the meadow with the man she loved or sit in the carriage with her sister, Penelope bit her lower lip and frowned. Temptation won out. She gave Zachary a small smile. "Perhaps just a short walk."
"We'll return the very moment you desire," Zachary replied, and leapt eagerly from the carriage.
Lily watched in fond amusement as Zachary helped Penny to the ground and the two began a slow trek across the meadow.
The two of them were perfect for each other. Zachary was an honorable young man, strong enough to protect her, yet boyish enough that he would never intimidate her. And Penny was exactly the sweet, innocent sort of girl that he needed.
Putting her slippered feet up on the velvet-upholstered seat, Lily reached for the basket of fruit and biscuits they had brought.
She bit into a strawberry and tossed the green stem over the side of the carriage. Untying her bonnet strings, she let the sun
shine on her face, and reached for another strawberry.
Once, long ago, she and Giuseppe had partaken of a picnic lunch in Italy, reclining in a meadow very much like this one. It had been in the days just before they had become lovers. At the time Lily had thought herself to be quite sophisticated. It had been only later that she realized how stupidly naive she had been . . .
"The country air is splendid," she had declared, leaning her bare elbows on a blanket and biting into a
buttery, ripe pear. "Everything tastes better out here!"
"So you tire of the jaded pleasures of the city, amore mio?" Giuseppe's beautiful eyes, long-lashed and liquid black, regarded her with sensuous warmth.
"Society is as much a bore here as it is in England," Lily said reflectively, staring at the hot green grass. "Everyone striving to be witty and sought-after, everyone talking and no one listening..."
"I listen, carissima. I listen to evert'ing you say."
Lily turned and smiled at him, resting her weight on her elbow. "You do, don't you? Why is that, Giuseppe?"
"I am in love with you," he said passionately.
She couldn't help laughing at him. "You're in love with every woman."
"Is that wrong? In England, per'aps. Not in Italy. I have special love to give every woman. Special love
for you." He plucked a succulent grape and held it to her lips, while his eyes bore into hers.
Flattered, feeling her heart beat faster, Lily opened her mouth. She took the grape between her teeth and
smiled at him as she chewed. No man had ever pursued her with such ardent gentleness. There were impossible promises in his gaze, promises of tenderness, pleasure, desire; and while her mind refused to believe them, her heart desperately wanted to. She had been lonely for such a long time. And she wanted to know about the
mystery that everyone else seemed to take for granted.
"Lily, my beautiful little English girl," Giuseppe murmured. "I can make you 'appy. So very 'appy, bella."
"You shouldn't say that." She looked away from him, trying to hide her flushed cheeks. "No one can promise
such a thing."
"Perche no? Let me try, cara. Beautiful Lily, always with the sad smile, I make it all better." Slowly he bent to kiss her. The touch of his lips was warm, pleasant. It was in that moment Lily had decided that he would make a
woman of her. She would give herself to him. After all, no one would expect or believe that she was a virgin.
Her innocence mattered to no one.
Looking back now, Lily had no idea why she had thought of men and love as such an alluring mystery. She had paid for her mistake with Giuseppe a thousand times over, and she would continue to pay the price for her sins. Sighing, she watched her sister walk with Zachary. They were not holding hands, but there was an air of intimacy about them. He's the kind of man who'll never betray you, Penny, she thought. And that, believe me, is a rarity.
* * *
After Zachary had taken his leave, Penelope was radiant. However, something changed in the hours afterward. During
supper the sparkle was gone from her eyes, and she was pale and subdued. Lily wondered at her thoughts and feelings,
but they had no opportunity to talk until late evening, when they were preparing for bed.
"Penny," she said, unhooking the back of her sister's gown, "what is the matter? You've been so quiet all afternoon, and
you barely touched your supper."
Penelope walked to the
vanity table and pulled the pins from her hair until a golden cascade fell to her waist. She looked at
Lily, her gaze shadowed with misery. "I know what you're been trying to do. But you must not arrange any further meetings between Zachary and me. It can lead to nothing, and it is wrong!"
"Are you sorry for having been with him this afternoon?" Lily asked contritely. "I placed you in an awkward position, didn't I? Forgive me—"
"No, it was wonderful," Penelope exclaimed, and then looked shamefaced. "I shouldn't have said that. I don't know what is
the matter with me! I'm so confused about everything."
"It's because you've always obeyed Mother and Father, and done what's expected of you. Penny, you've never done a selfish thing in your life. You're in love with Zachary, but you're sacrificing yourself for the sake of duty."
Penelope sat on the bed and lowered her face. "It doesn't matter whom I'm in love with."
"Your happiness is the only thing that matters! Why are you so upset? Has something happened?"
"Lord Raiford took me aside this afternoon." Penelope said dully. "After we returned from the carriage drive."
Lily's gaze sharpened. "What? What did he say?"
"He asked questions . . . and he implied that Zachary is not really your suitor. That Zachary is behaving dishonorably in
trying to court me by pretending an interest in my sister."
"How dare he say such a thing?" Lily demanded in instant fury.
"It is true," Penelope said miserably. "You know it is."
"Of course it is—I'm the one who thought of the plan in the first place!"
"I thought so."
"But how dare he insult us by making such an accusation!"
"Lord Raiford said that if Zachary had once been intent on marrying a girl like me, he would never want to marry one like you."
Lily's frown deepened. "One like me?"
" 'Seasoned' was the word he used," Penelope said uncomfortably.
"Seasoned?" Lily paced around the room like a tigress. "I suppose he doesn't think I'm desirable enough to catch a husband,"
she fumed. "Well, other men find me quite attractive, men who have more than ice water running through their veins. Oh, he's
a fine one to criticize when he's got more faults than I have time to list! Well, I'm going to fix everything, and by the time I'm through—"
"Lily, please," Penelope entreated in a small voice. "All this trouble distresses me terribly. Can't we let things be?"
"Certainly. After I bring his lordship some much-needed enlightenment!''
"No!" Penelope held a hand to her forehead, as if the situation were too much for her to bear. "You must not make Lord
Raiford angry! I would be afraid for all of us!"
"Did he threaten you?" It was fortunate that Penelope could not see Lily's eyes, for there was a vengeful glow in them that
would have frightened her.
"N-not precisely, no. But he is such a powerful man, a-and I don't think he would tolerate any sort of betrayal... he is not a
man to be crossed!"
"Penny, if Zachary asked you to—" "No," Penelope said quickly, tears springing to her eyes. "No, we must not discuss this
any further! I won't listen ... I can't!"
"All right," Lily soothed. "No more talking tonight. Don't cry. Everything will be fine, you'll see."
* * *
Alex strode rapidly down the grand staircase. He was dressed in traveling clothes—a coat of fine blended wool, a tan poplin waistcoat, and cotton trousers. In response to a message he had received from a carrier the day before, it was necessary for
him to travel to London. His youngest brother Henry was being expelled from Westfield. It was the first time a Raiford had
ever been compelled to leave the venerable school.
Feeling equal parts of anger and concern, Alex wondered what incident had prompted the expulsion. Henry had always been
an energetic boy, full of mischief, but possessed of a good-natured disposition. There had been no explanation in the short note from Westfield's headmaster, only that boy was no longer welcome at the school.
Alex sighed heavily, thinking that he hadn't given the boy enough guidance. Whenever it had come time for discipline, he'd
never had the heart to punish Henry for his misdeeds. Henry had been so young when his parents had died. Alex had been
more of a father than a brother to Henry. He wondered if he had done well by the boy. Guiltily Alex thought that he should
have married years ago in order to provide a kind, maternal woman in Henry's life.
Alex's thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a small figure clad in a nightgown, hurrying up the staircase. Lily again, scampering through the house in next to nothing. He paused and watched her hasty ascent.
Suddenly she noticed him and stopped a few steps away. Looking up into his stern face, she groaned and held a hand to her
head. "Let's just ignore this, shall we?"
"No, Miss Lawson," Alex said in a grating voice. "I want an explanation of where you've been and what you've been doing."
"You won't get one," she mumbled.
Alex contemplated her silently. It was possible she had been telling the truth before, that she was indeed involved in a
tete a tete with one of the servants. She had the appearance of it—dressed in a nightgown, barefooted, her face haggard,
and her eyes dark-circled as if she were exhausted after a night of debauchery. He didn't know why the thought enraged him. Usually he didn't give a damn what others did, so long as they didn't inconvenience him. All he was conscious of was a bitter
taste in his mouth.
"The next time this happens," he said coldly, "I'll pack your bags personally. In London a lack of morality is something to be admired—but it won't be tolerated here."
Lily held his gaze defiantly, then continued up the staircase, muttering some obscenity sotto voce.
"What did you say?" he asked in a soft-growl.
She threw a saccharine smile over her shoulder. "I wished you a perfectly splendid day, my lord."
Retreating to her room, Lily requested a bath to be prepared. Efficiently the maids filled the porcelain-rimmed tub in the
adjoining dressing room. One of the girls stoked the fire in the little fireplace, and set the towels on a nearby warming rack.
Lily declined their assistance after that.
Easing into the tub, she idly splashed water over her chest. The walls were papered with scenery in the Chinese style,
illustrated with hand-painted flowers and birds. The porcelain fireplace mantelpiece was decorated with dragons and
pagodas. Outmoded. She would bet her last farthing that the wall had last been papered at least two decades ago.
If I had my way around here, there would be some changes made, she thought, and submerged herself, head and all,
in the steaming water. Coming up with dripping hair, she finally allowed herself to think about what was happening to her.
This sleepwalking business was occurring more frequently. Yesterday she had awakened in the library, this morning in the parlor, in back of the settee. How had she come to be there? How had she managed to descend the stairs without mishap?
She might have broken her neck!
She couldn't allow this to continue. Frightened, Lily wondered if she should begin tying herself to the bed each night. But
how would that appear to anyone who might discover her? Well, Wolverton certainly wouldn't be surprised, she thought,
and giggled nervously. He probably thought of her as the most depraved woman alive.
Perhaps she should try drinking before bedtime. If she were drunk enough . . . no, that would be the fastest course to ruin.
She had seen it too many times in London, where people destroyed themselves with strong drink. Perhaps if she consulted
a physician and asked f
or sleeping powders . . . but what if he declared her to be a madwoman? God knew what would happen to her then. Lily ran her fingers through her wet hair and closed her eyes. "Perhaps I am insane." she muttered,
clenching her hands into dripping fists.
It would drive any woman mad to have her child taken from her.
After an industrious scrubbing of her hair and skin, Lily rose from the bath and patted herself dry with a length of towel. She donned a white lace-trimmed shift, embroidered cotton stockings, and a cotton gown printed with tiny pink flowers. The dress made her appear nearly as young as Penelope. Sitting before the fire, Lily ran her fingers through her damp curls and considered what her plan for the day should be. "First," she said with a snap of her fingers, "I'll have to convince Wolverton that Zachary is courting me, not Penny. That will throw him off the scent."
"Miss?" She heard a puzzled voice. The maid was standing in the door of the dressing room. "Did you say—"
"No, no, pay no heed. I was just talking to myself."
Then came you, by lisa kleypas.txt Page 9