My Fair Lily

by Meara Platt

  On him, a very nice combination.

  Oh, how had that thought slipped in? She cleared her throat and paused at Eloise’s front door to ring the bell.

  “Lady Dayne is not at home,” her butler informed Lily. “Shall I leave word that you stopped by?”

  “No, Watling. It isn’t important.”

  She returned to the Farthingale residence and prepared for the Royal Society meeting. Today’s lecture was to be on geological formations. For that staid affair, she chose a midnight blue pelisse over a light gray frock, selected a midnight blue reticule and pair of gray lace gloves, and then completed the outfit with a stylish hat topped with a gray feather.

  Finally, she nudged her new spectacles firmly onto the bridge of her nose, framed a few playful curls at the nape of her neck, and marched downstairs to join her uncle, also an admirer of the Royal Society and the lectures offered to the public.

  “I haven’t had the chance to speak to Eloise or this Mr. Cameron yet,” her uncle George said as they climbed into one of the Farthingale carriages.

  “Don’t trouble yourself.” She settled against the black leather squabs. “There’s something you ought to know. Something I ought to have mentioned last night.”

  Her uncle leaned forward.

  She proceeded to tell him of Mr. Cameron’s connection to the Duke of Lotheil.

  “I suspected as much.”

  “You did?”

  He nodded. “Gossip and such, but didn’t wish to say anything before I was certain.”

  “I wish you had told me. I made an utter fool of myself in front of him.”

  He patted her hand. “I’m sure he finds you as charming and clever as we all do.”

  “Jasper might, but I doubt his owner feels the same way.”

  ***

  Ewan stood in the back corner of the lecture hall watching the crowd. The men looked quite distinguished in their afternoon grays, and the few ladies in attendance were finely turned out. Lily arrived, as he expected she would, escorted by a tall gentleman whose dark hair was sprinkled with gray. The man had a commanding presence and appeared old enough to be her father... possibly was her father.

  Ewan decided not to approach, but Lily saw him out of the corner of her eye. Turning to her companion, she began to tug on the gentleman’s sleeve to draw him toward the back of the hall. “Good afternoon, Mr. Cameron,” she said, reaching his side.

  He nodded. “Hello, lass.” She looked adorable with those wire-rimmed spectacles perched on her nose. Prettiest scholar he’d ever encountered.

  “May I present my uncle, Dr. George Farthingale?”

  “A pleasure to meet you, sir.”

  Lily’s uncle responded cordially, but Ewan knew the man was wary of him and obviously protective of his niece. He wouldn’t hesitate to confront Ewan—duke’s grandson or no—if he were ever to hurt Lily. Ewan understood and respected the man for it. He would be just as wary of any man sniffing about his own sister, Meggie.

  Not that he was sniffing about Lily, though she did smell nice. Like pink roses in the evening dew, sweet, warm, and subtly intoxicating.

  Bollix.

  “My niece tells me that you’re looking to purchase a horse for yourself.”

  He glanced at Lily and then turned back to her uncle. “That I am.”

  “I may be able to help.”

  “I’d appreciate it.” He glanced at Lily again and grinned. “And just so we’re clear on the matter, cost is no object.”

  Lily rolled her eyes. “Gentlemen do not discuss their finances in public.”

  “I know, lass. Couldn’t resist teasing you. Not that I’m much of a gentleman, but rest assured that I am usually cautious with my blunt. In truth, I am as tight-fisted a Scot as you’ll ever meet.”

  The shadow of a smile fell across her lips. “Then I would advise you to keep your hands in your pockets, Mr. Cameron. Lord Squeers is coming toward you to hit you up for a donation, no doubt. He may tell you it’s for a worthy cause, but I hardly think acquiring a case of whiskey for his cellar counts as such. Oh, dear. Lady Marchmain has just seen you, as well. She’s desperate to marry off her widowed sister and will be impossible to shake once she starts talking.”

  Her uncle frowned. “Lily, that’s not a kind thing to say.”

  “But it’s the truth.”

  “Even so.”

  A blush ran up her cheeks. “Forgive me. I have an awful habit of... I merely thought to be helpful... obviously, I’m not... being helpful, that is. I must sound quite petty and insulting. I don’t know why I felt the need to warn you about them, Mr. Cameron. I’m sure you can take care of yourself.”

  “No harm done. I appreciate your candor. ’Tis hard to know whom to trust,” he said quietly.

  “About the request in your note,” she continued, “my sister, Laurel, is the expert on horses.”

  “She’s promised to help me select top bloodstock at next week’s auction at Tattersalls,” her uncle added. “Join us there, won’t you? I’m certain Laurel will be glad to give you advice.”

  “I’d appreciate it. Thank you, I will.”

  “Can you ride?” Lily asked.

  Ewan realized that she’d never seen him on horseback, only out walking with Jasper. “A little.”

  She shook her head as she studied him. “Are you being honest or modest?”

  Ewan chuckled. “Modest.”

  “You must have been born in the saddle, probably took to it like a duck takes to water.” She let out a delightful sigh. “I’m a fair rider at best. I understand the motion of a horse, its loping rhythm and the need for one’s body to attune itself to the animal so that both move as one, but I fear I’m hopeless. My body insists on bouncing one way while the horse trots another way, so we always seem to be moving at cross purposes.”

  “You’ll have to show me. I may be able to teach you a few tricks.”

  Her eyes brightened and she cast him a radiant smile. He drew in a breath, cautioning himself. The girl was like a smooth, aged scotch, easy to drink until the force of it hit you like a cannonball and dropped you to your knees. “The lecture’s starting.”

  Lily’s uncle took her arm. “We had better find our seats. Will you join us, Mr. Cameron?”

  “I’ll stand back here.” Though Ewan tried not to stare at Lily or notice the gentle sway of her hips as she walked to the front of the hall, he couldn’t help himself. The girl was a fascinating mix of innocence and sensual appeal. Not that she knew it. He watched her take a seat. So did most of the men in the hall.

  The innocent was completely unaware.

  Having intended to remain only a short while, he decided to change his plans. There was no need to rush off now. He could wait until later to tend to his business affairs. And would wait until next week to acquire his horses. He looked forward to the auction and meeting Lily’s sister, Laurel. She was the one who’d married Graelem Dayne—tamed him, if the rumors were true—but not before she’d almost killed him.

  Lily seemed gentle enough.

  Probably didn’t take after her sister.

  Ewan enjoyed the lecture, listening with interest as the elderly Lord Guilfoil finished his speech on James Hutton’s theories on geological formation of the earth and took questions from the floor. Lily attempted to ask a question, probably several if he knew the girl, but was ignored. She finally stood up and tried to speak but was immediately cut off. “Miss Farthingale, sit down!”

  She tipped her pretty chin into the air. “Lord Guilfoil, I will not.”

  “Of all the impertinence! I will not have you making a mockery of this lecture!”

  “I have no such intention,” she tried to assure. “All I wish to ask is—”

  Others in the audience began to call out, not to defend Lily but to shout her down. Ewan was shocked. The very men who had smiled and ogled her before the start of the meeting were acting like insufferable boors. Was he missing something? She’d done nothing wrong. The floor had been o
pened up to questions, and she had as much right as any man present to have her say.

  “Sit down!” Lord Guilfoil said, his face now red and eyes blazing. “We do not wish to hear yet another comparison of our noble English society to your savage jungle baboons.”

  “My monograph is on swamp baboons, much of it based on research published by Sir William Maitland, a man greatly admired by all of us in this hall.”

  As the crowd began to grow restless, Ewan noticed Lily gazing at a young gentleman who was seated with other Fellows of the Royal Society on the stage behind Lord Guilfoil’s podium. Did she expect the young man to come to her defense? Clearly, he wasn’t about to do so. At first, he purposely looked down, but when he glanced up again, he seemed noticeably angry, and all that anger was trained on Lily.

  Suddenly, the lecture did not seem so enjoyable to Ewan. He clenched his hands into fists at the disdainful manner in which all of them were responding to Lily, remarking on her obvious ignorance and lack of understanding before she had even asked a question. Bloody wankers. The lass had more intelligence in her little finger than the pretentious blighters had in their entire bodies.

  Ewan started toward Lily, expecting a feisty retort from the girl and wanting to be at her side to protect her if things got uglier. Instead she sat down as though whipped into submission. After a moment, she whispered something to her uncle and quietly slipped from the hall. Ewan followed her out, catching up to her on the street just outside the Royal Society hall. “Lily, are you all right?”

  “Do I look all right? Honestly, I could scream.” She began to pace back and forth in front of him, looking proud and determined, yet at the same time heartbreakingly fragile. “Lord Guilfoil is an utter dolt. They’re all dolts, and they hate me for my heinous crime.”

  He arched an eyebrow in question. “I never took you for a criminal. What did you do?”

  “Applied for membership in their Royal Society.” She stopped pacing to pin him with a glare. “Don’t tell me you agree with those wooly mammoths.”

  He raised his hands in surrender. “Not I. Did I give you that impression? Were I a member, I’d cast my vote for you.”

  “Seriously?”

  He nodded. “We’re not as stodgy up in Scotland. In fact, we have many female members in our historical and scientific societies. Several also serve as directors on our society boards.”

  “They do?” She gazed at him with longing. “I wish it were the same here.”

  He wanted to reach out and swallow her in his arms, but knew she’d resent it. Lily was the sort of girl determined to stand on her own. He liked her all the more for it. “It will be in time. Soon, I’m sure. And you’ll be the one to lead the way.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Cameron. I appreciate your attempt to cheer me, but I don’t think anything will work just now. I’m so angry I could spit. I have only myself to blame. I knew it would happen, but I couldn’t help myself. That’s my failing... one of my many. I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut.”

  “Nor should you, lass.”

  She cast him the softest smile. “That isn’t what my family says. Well, most of them. Not my father or Uncle George. They’re not afraid of my brain. Everyone else is. My mother thinks I’ll die an old maid, that any man who spends more than a few minutes in my company will run off screaming.”

  “I haven’t.”

  She shook her head and laughed. “What does that say about you?”

  He wasn’t certain. Hadn’t really given it much thought. In truth, he’d been worried for her safety in that hall, a slip of a girl standing alone and defiant, surrounded by a crowd of men who somehow felt their masculinity threatened by this innocent.

  “By the way, where’s Jasper? I half expected to find him out here waiting for you.”

  “I left him at Lotheil Court. He must have chewed the legs off several priceless chairs by now.” He called over a flower girl who happened to be strolling by with a basket of violets and purchased a bouquet. “Here, Lily. I know they’re just flowers, but I can’t think of anything better to cheer you. Well, that isn’t quite true. I considered slamming my fist into that idiot Guilfoil’s nose.” He would have pounded his fists into any man who attempted to touch her.

  “So did I. It wouldn’t have helped. We would have been tossed out and banned from ever stepping foot inside there again.”

  “Who cares?”

  “I do,” she said quietly, her pretty lips quivering as she struggled to hold back tears. “I love the lectures. The science and discovery. I wish they’d allow me to be a part of it. This isn’t the first time I’ve been shouted down at the Royal Society.”

  Once again, he was struck by the urge to take her into his arms. Of course, he couldn’t act on it. Wouldn’t act on it. “Still doesn’t make it right, lass.”

  “I suppose not. Thank you for these.” She held up the bouquet of violets and graced him with a smile as spectacular as a smooth, well-aged scotch. Ewan felt that cannonball shoot straight to his heart, the force of her sweet innocence almost dropping him to his knees. “No one’s ever given me flowers before.”

  He was glad to be the first and felt surprisingly possessive about it. About her. No, not her. He wasn’t interested in women... rather, he wasn’t interested in nice women, at the moment. He was in London because of the damn promise he’d made to his father. Once he’d fulfilled his duty, he’d head back to Scotland.

  That’s where he belonged. Not here. Not losing his mind and handing this lovely slip of a girl a handful of violets. Bloody hell, what was wrong with him? In time, the girl would forget the gesture. Despite what she thought, he knew she would have a steady stream of admirers through her parlor.

  He shifted uncomfortably. The notion troubled him. He couldn’t understand why. It just did.

  Lily gazed at him with those soft, blue eyes of hers. “Mr. Cameron, you may not look the part of a proper gentleman, but you are one. Thank you for making me feel... no longer miserable.”

  He reached out and tucked a finger under her chin. “Lass, if anyone ever insults you, well you just let me know and I’ll set the bounder straight.”

  “With your beefy fists?” She tipped her head toward him and laughed again in that gentle, unaffected manner that had the power to bring grown men to their knees. “I’ll consider it.”

  “You do that.” He ran a thumb along her cheek to wipe away a stray tear, still overwhelmed by the need to protect her. She felt soft as a lamb, her skin silken smooth beneath his rough palm, and he wished he could take her into his arms and hold her until the pain she so obviously felt went away.

  After a moment, she stepped away and fumbled through her reticule. “Oh, dear. I seem to have misplaced my handkerchief.” She glanced up and then shook her head and sighed. “I’ve been doing that a lot lately. Losing small items here and there. I never did that before.”

  “I’m sure your handkerchief will turn up. Do you wish to return to the lecture hall?”

  “Yes, but I think I’ll wait out here anyway. The speaker ought to be finished by now, and the crowd will soon pour through these doors. I’ll wait here for my uncle.”

  As she predicted, the attendees began to file out. It wasn’t long before Lily’s uncle stepped outside and scanned the ladies and gentlemen milling about the street. “There you are,” he called out and soon joined them. “What have you there?”

  “Flowers, Uncle George.” She inhaled their scent and smiled. “They’re from Mr. Cameron.”

  Her uncle eyed him curiously, then smiled.

  Oh, bollix.

  He’d given Lily violets, not a betrothal ring.

  CHAPTER 5

  LILY ENTERED Eloise’s salon the following morning clutching the note her butler had delivered earlier. She saw Eloise seated at her writing desk. “You wanted to see me?”

  “I have a favor to ask of you, child,” she said, setting down her quill pen and placing the stopper back on her inkpot before rising to greet Lily. “My
dear, the Duke of Lotheil has invited me to tea. I’d like you to join me.”

  Lily shook her head. “But he hasn’t invited me.”

  “Nonsense, he knows a woman my age can’t make her way about London on her own. He expects me to bring a companion.”

  “Is this the only reason you want me to go?”

  Eloise laughed lightly as she motioned for Lily to take a seat beside her on the divan. “Ewan will be there, of course. So will his sister, Meggie. She’s due to arrive at Lotheil Court today and I’m concerned she’ll be quite overwhelmed by the grandeur. Not to mention that her grandfather can be an ogre.”

  Lily rolled her eyes and plopped into the seat beside her. “I know. He’s the one thwarting my dream to be admitted into the Royal Society. I’m not violent by nature, but I’ve wanted to poke him in the nose more than a time or two this past year.”

  “I know, dear.” She patted Lily’s hand. “Perhaps he’ll soften once he gets to know you better.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “One can always hope. He’s asked me to help him plan his seventy-fifth birthday celebration, and I would love your help. You’re so capable and efficient. He intends to hold it in the new wing of the Royal Society, sort of a double celebration of his birthday and the grand opening of the new geographical hall. He wishes it to be a splendid affair - a full orchestra, the best champagne, fireworks.”

  Lily rolled her eyes again. “The duke refers to me as that baboon girl and cringes at the mention of my name. He’ll never allow me to participate in planning his party.”

  Eloise cast her an indulgent smile. “We won’t know for certain unless we try. In the meanwhile, you’ll have a reason to be at Lotheil Court quite often. I count on you to befriend Meggie. She’s a timid girl, and I’ll need your assistance to make her London visit a little less frightening for her.”