They were in his library, and he was seated at his desk. He waved them to the chairs across, and they sat.
She’d spied on him all afternoon, but he’d simply pretended to work, doodling or blindly gazing out the window. His stack of bills and correspondence hadn’t been touched.
She’d raised him and knew him well. He wasn’t given to lethargy or sloth, and he’d heeded her biblical teachings: Idleness invited trouble.
What was happening to him? Why was he so distracted?
She didn’t like him to have secrets, and she had to discover what was bothering him. After he went to bed, she’d sneak down and search his desk. He kept it locked, but years earlier, she’d made a copy of the key.
It paid to be vigilant, and she couldn’t be caught off guard, especially if any information pertained to Edward. She had to stay one step ahead of John, had to ensure Edward was safe.
“It appears,” she began, “that Violet and I have angered you with our talk about your mother. It wasn’t our intent.” She paused, waiting for the stupid girl to pipe up. When she didn’t, Esther pressed, “Was it, Violet?”
“No. We apologize for any hard feelings we may have caused.”
“Thank you,” he coolly stated, but from his steely glare, it didn’t seem as if they were forgiven.
Ever since they’d foolishly badgered him about Barbara, he’d rarely spoken to either of them. Nor had he spent any time with Violet. She’d become invisible, which was disturbing on many fronts.
She was terrified that he would call off the betrothal and send her home, and she had solicited Esther’s advice on how to fix things with him. Esther had been skating on her own thin ice, about to be sent home, too, so she’d agreed to help Violet in pleading her case, thereby hoping to improve her own.
“We realize,” Esther continued, “that your mother’s arrival has left you in a difficult position.”
He merely stared, providing no clue as to his opinion on the matter, and Violet filled the void.
“I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I don’t like her. I find her to be a very interesting . . . person.” She tried to smile, but couldn’t manage it. “However you elect to deal with her, it is fine by me. I know better than to have chastised you on any topic.”
It was the perfect opening for him to graciously reply, to display the manners that Esther had taught him, but he remained so mute that his mouth might have been glued shut.
An awkward silence ensued, she and Violet on tenterhooks, braced to hear their sentence.
“Will that be all?” he finally inquired.
“I was wondering,” Esther requested, “if I might stay on in Scotland. You had mentioned that I could travel to England with the twins, but I hate to leave you without a hostess.”
He could have embarrassed her by countering with,
My mother has assumed your role; you’re not needed here,
but he didn’t, and she was exceedingly relieved.
“You may stay on,” he said, “if that is your wish.”
“It is; I will.”
“And I was wondering,” Violet ventured, “if you would . . . would . . . walk with me in the garden after supper. It should be a lovely evening, and you’ve been so busy that we’ve scarcely had a second to chat.”
If he said
no
, that he had no desire to walk with her after supper, the engagement would be over. His coach would be readied, and Violet would be immediately dispatched to London.
Esther held her breath, while beside her, Violet was trembling.
Ultimately, he nodded. “Yes, I’m certain I will have time for you.”
Esther stood and dragged Violet from the room before John could change his mind.
LILY hurried through the woods.
It was a beautiful autumn afternoon. The sky was so blue, and there was a crispness to the air, a hint of the colder weather that was just around the corner. The trees were a canopy of red and gold, and she could smell smoke as bonfires burned and the fields were cleared.
Up ahead, the forest thinned, and she glimpsed the house that belonged to Captain Odell, where Phillip Dudley and his sister, Clarinda, were living. Though Lily had never previously been inside the residence, it called to her like a beacon.
She had passed the morning in her bedchamber, hiding and plotting. As promised, John—no, she couldn’t think of him as John. The familiarity confused her, made her forget her station in life. Lord Penworth had arranged that she have no chores to perform, and as every servant knew, there was only one way a female could earn such a dispensation.
Calamity was approaching. She could feel it as plainly as she could feel the breeze on her face. At the slightest whisper of gossip, the affair would be exposed. Penworth’s fiancée and stepmother would learn of it. Once they were apprised, what would they do? What would happen to Lily?
The answers to those questions were all disconcerting, and she wouldn’t tarry while disaster unfolded.
After much reflection, there seemed to be only one option, but she would require assistance to carry it off. Mr. Dudley was the obvious choice as conspirator. She had no idea who else to ask.
She banged the knocker, anxious to hear that he was home and would see her. A footman opened the door, and she was welcomed in and escorted to a cozy parlor. She entered, but Clarinda Dudley was present, rather than her brother.
Lily didn’t know Miss Dudley that well, having mingled with her on rare occasions at Penworth’s parties. Lily was sufficiently dismayed at having to seek Mr. Dudley’s aid, and it would be a giant leap to presume she could discuss the mess with his sister.
“Hello, Miss Lambert.” Miss Dudley came over to take Lily’s hands. “How kind of you to visit. I’m so glad you stopped by.”
She guided Lily to a small sofa, and they sat in front of a window and looked out across the park that led back to Penworth’s castle. Lily was very uncomfortable and wanted to leave, but it would be the height of rudeness to get up and go.
“By any chance,” Lily asked, “is your brother here?”
“No, I’m sorry, he’s not. May I help you?”
If only she could . . .
“I probably ought to speak with him.”
Lily’s cheeks flushed with humiliation. Miss Dudley and her brother were very close. Would Mr. Dudley have shared Lily’s foibles with her? Had she been informed of the predicament into which Lily had landed herself?
Please, Lord,
she prayed,
don’t let her question me about it!
Outside, on the edge of the woods, she noticed a couple strolling along, their arms wrapped around each other. As they paused and hugged, it dawned on her that she knew the pair.
Before she realized she shouldn’t comment, she said, “There’s your brother now. And isn’t that . . . Barbara Middleton?”
Their affection evident, they started to kiss, and Lily sucked in a stunned breath. Miss Dudley glanced out and blanched.
“Ah, yes, I believe that is my brother.”
“Oh my,” Lily muttered.
Miss Dudley jumped up and yanked at the drapes, fussing with them until not a peep of the torrid scene was visible. When she turned back, she appeared flummoxed.
“Would you like a . . . tour of the house?” she asked to distract Lily.
Lily was still locked in the moment. “Your brother and Barbara? Isn’t that a bit . . . tricky for all of you?”
She had selected the word
tricky
after recognizing that she couldn’t utter some of the other words she’d considered—
salacious? indecent? bizarre?
—and Miss Dudley was grateful that Lily hadn’t been more insulting.
“Yes, it’s been tricky,” she agreed, Lily’s casual remark breaking the ice between them. “I warned him not to proceed, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“If her son finds out, I don’t imagine he’ll care for it.”
“No, I don’t imagine he will.”
“I’ve spent some time with Barbara,” Lily said. “She seems a tad ruthless to me.”
“To me, too.”
“What is it about her that attracted him?”
“He’s always been a pushover for a pretty face and a sad story.”
“She has plenty of those.”
“She certainly does.” Miss Dudley shrugged. “He likes her.”
“Then who are we to quibble, hmm?”
Miss Dudley chuckled, and she peered at Lily and grinned.
“Would I shock you, Miss Lambert, if I asked you to enjoy a whiskey with me?”
“I’m quite sure I’d survive the invitation.”
Miss Dudley went to a sideboard and poured them both a drink. She sat again and downed hers in a quick gulp as Lily sipped more slowly.
“You wanted to speak with Phillip,” Miss Dudley said, “but he might be busy for a few hours.”
“I can come by later. It’s no problem.”
“I hope you won’t be offended if I mention that I know you’d swallowed one of his potions.”
Drat it!
“Yes, I had.”
“If you have a question, I’d be happy to answer it.” Lily looked as if she’d refuse the offer of assistance, and Miss Dudley rushed to add, “I understand the effects of his remedies. If you’re anxious, I could put you at ease.”
Lily was enormously tempted, for now that she’d settled on her plan of action, she was eager to swiftly implement it. She was saved from any mortifying disclosures by Mr. Dudley hustling into the room.
He was smug, extremely pleased with himself.
“Good heavens, Clarinda,” he scolded, “it’s a beautiful day outside. Why are you sitting here in the dark?”
He marched over and was tugging on the drapes when he noticed Lily.
“Miss Lambert? This is a surprise.”
“Hello, Mr. Dudley.”
“We had the drapes open,” Miss Dudley grouched, “but we didn’t care for the view.”
“Not care for it? Why would you—” He glanced out and observed the park from their perspective. “Oh. It appears we’ve been found out.”
“If you’re going to carry on in plain sight,” his sister complained, “how can you possibly keep the affair a secret?”
“Miss Lambert won’t tattle,” he insisted. “Will you?”
“No,” Lily vowed. “I wouldn’t have the faintest idea who to tell.”
Mr. Dudley smirked at his sister as if to say,
See?
“What brings you by?” he asked Lily. “If you were driven to visit our humble abode, it must be something horrid.”
“I need your help.”
“Is it Penworth?” Mr. Dudley perked up like a dog at the hunt that had scented the fox. “What’s he done now?”
“Well ...”
Lily dithered, ashamed to discuss her dilemma with Miss Dudley being present, and as usual, Mr. Dudley read Lily’s mind.
“Don’t worry about Clarinda,” he said. “She’s very discreet. We can talk in front of her. And she might have some useful suggestions.”
Lily peered from one sibling to the other. They were smiling at her, friendship in their gazes, and Lily—who had always been alone, who’d never been dear to anyone—decided to take a chance.
“I must go back to England.” Her heart was heavy with the pronouncement. “I’d like to depart as soon as I can, and I can’t have anybody know. Not about the trip or the route.”
“You think Penworth would prevent you?” Mr. Dudley queried.
“I’m sure of it. I’ve tried to quit my job, but he won’t let me. He’s revoked my responsibilities to the twins and Lady Violet, so—”
“So it’s only a matter of time,” Miss Dudley finished for her, “before others wonder why. With discovery of the liaison, your reputation will be shredded.”
“Yes, so I must leave, but I can’t ride on the public coach. I truly believe he’d chase me down and force me back. I’ll have to travel in a fashion he wouldn’t suspect, on a road he would never investigate.”
“We have a coach,” Miss Dudley stated. “Phillip could take you to London.”
“That would be too much of an imposition,” Lily hastened to say.
“No, it wouldn’t,” Miss Dudley replied. “We’d fret if you left and we didn’t know your condition during the journey.”
Mr. Dudley had been silent through the exchange. He went to the sideboard to pour his own whiskey, and he frowned at Lily.
“What about the second vial of Spinster’s Cure?” he inquired. “We talked about your drinking it. Have you?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I’m embarrassed to confess what happened.”
“What did?”
“I attempted to entice another man, to avert the calamity I’ve been pursuing with Lord Penworth, but he got in the way again.”
Dudley and his sister shared a long look, and Miss Dudley raised a brow in consternation.
“You shouldn’t leave,
chérie
.” A hint of Mr. Dudley’s French accent crept into his voice. “Penworth loves you. The potion is working, and you should stay so the circle of magic can be completed.”
“He doesn’t love me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“He said so. He told me he could
never
love me.”
“Maybe that is what he assumes, but if we have toyed with his fate—”
She held up a hand, halting a diatribe she couldn’t bear to hear.
More than ever, she wanted Dudley’s potion to be real, for Lord Penworth’s destiny to have been altered so he would fall madly in love with her. But she wasn’t a fool, and she couldn’t keep behaving like one.
Penworth might actually possess some fond feelings for her, but he would never act on them. He was a man of duty and obligation, and he would never rock a boat or break a rule.
He’d proposed to Violet Howard, and he would never go back on his word to her. Despite how vehemently Lily wished there could be a different conclusion, that he would jilt Lady Violet and pick Lily instead, he never would.
She had to stop fantasizing, and
he
had to stop courting disaster. She would save him from himself by fleeing—without his knowing that she had.
“I just need to return to England,” she said to Mr. Dudley.