Page 18 of Not Quite a Lady
‘Not Mr Lovell, that is for sure,’ Lily retorted, resolutely ignoring a disturbing mental image of muscular thighs and narrow hips. ‘Infuriating man.’
‘Handsome though, so long as you aren’t looking for the languid elegant type. He would turn out quite well with a good suit of clothes and his hair cut. Pity he’s not got a title.’
‘I like his hair,’ Lily said without thinking. ‘Not that is anything to do with anything, so stop teasing me, Aunt, please. I really do not know what I am to do. Today’s events will be all over Town by tomorrow, so even if it were not for Lord Randall, everyone would be talking about me.’
‘Laugh about the hoax and sayyoubroke it off withhim, who’s to know any better? Put on your best new dress and your diamonds and find another lord.’
‘It is not as simple as that,’ Lily confessed, twirling the bullion fringe on the chaise between restless fingers. ‘About a month ago I let Adrian drive me back from Almack’s and he…he tried to make love to me in the carriage and I repulsed him and ran away. And Mr Lovell rescued me.
‘I was alone with Adrian and then I was in this coffee house on Piccadilly with Jack, even though nothing happened. And sooner or later Adrian is going to realise that the man he hit today was the one who told him I was not in the coffee house, and–’
‘He will put two and two together and make twenty seven,’ Aunt Herrick finished for her. ‘I do not pretend to understand half of this tale, but if Lord Randall chooses to be spiteful then you’re in trouble, Lily my girl.’
‘I know.’ Lily’s fingers had twisted the bullion fringe into a knot. She released it and watched it spring back into its own intricate twirls. ‘I think I am probably ruined.’
Chapter Five
Lily spent a restless night. Fretting about Adrian and her reputation was fruitless, she decided at about one in the morning. Either she was ruined or she wasn’t and there did not seem to be very much to be done about it, unless Lady Billington had any good ideas. And as Lily was paying Jane Billington a very favourable retainer for her services, it would be in her interests to think of something as soon as possible.
A more immediate problem was what to do about Jack Lovell, even now sleeping in her best guest room.
Theprudentanswer, she supposed, giving up on sleep and plumping the cushions behind her into a more comfortable heap, was to do nothing. He would return to the Green Dragon, to his search for investors and eventually to his distant mine.
Lily gazed into the gloom of her bedroom, dissatisfied.
Thepracticalanswer was to find some way of investing in the mine herself. That would reward Mr Lovell for his gallantry, add something new and interesting to her portfolio and be a satisfying gesture of defiance towards Adrian, whether he knew of it or not.
There was also the consideration that Mr Lovell, when not being as stubborn as a mule, was undeniably attractive company.
But how to keep contact with an intelligent, independent man who had every intention of shaking the dust of your doorstep from his excellent boots at the earliest opportunity?
A smile slowly curled Lily’s lips.Oh yes, now that’s an idea.All she had to do was to deal with him first thing, before he had a chance to bully Percy into fetching his clothes.
With a pleasurable shiver Lily slid down under the covers. She did so enjoy organising things to her own satisfaction.
Jack surfaced from sleep and lay very still. The room was restfully dim, with heavy curtains keeping out the morning sunlight, but his head threatened to fall off his shoulders if he moved suddenly and his body ached like the devil. He shut his eyes again with relief.
Someone was moving quietly around the room. Jack cracked open one lid.
The young footman – Percy, that was it – was reaching for the curtains. Jack braced himself for the flood of light and rolled over. His head remained attached. Just.
‘Good morning, sir.’
‘Good morning, Percy.’
Jack hauled himself up, tried not to wince and looked around.
The sphinxes, palm trees and other Egyptian ornamentation was as lurid in the morning light as he recalled. The Prince Regent would love this room, although even he – surely? – would draw the line at achaise longuesupported on six rearing gilt crocodiles and apparently upholstered with leopard skin.
‘I will bring your breakfast at once, sir.’
‘Just coffee and some hot water – I will get up.’
‘No sir, begging your pardon, sir. Miss Lily said you are to stay in bed.’
Jack narrowed his eyes and the footman backed away. ‘Just until the doctor’s been sir.’
‘Coffee, hot water, clothes. Now.’
