Page 45 of Wild Lily
Chapter 7
Would the afternoon and evening never end?
Lily sighed, accepting a glass of sherry from a footman as they awaited the bells to go into dinner. Pinkie stood beside her, having maneuvered his way to her to discuss horses.
She liked him, tall and blond and full of life. Gay, too. But becoming a bit of a bore now that she had a chance to enjoy Julian’s company.
“I should like to invite you to view my Arabian,” he said in his clipped British accent. He had a habit to speak so rapidly that she had to concentrate to understand him. “A house party.”
“House party?” she asked, like a loon.
“You’d like his looks.”
“Whose?” She was searching for Julian. Where was he?
“My prize horse.”
“Horse. Arabian. Right. I know cutting horses, my lord. You’d have to tell me what to appreciate in him.”
“I would educate you, never fear. I say, are you well? You’re squinting at me.”
Oh, blast your rapid fire, sir.“Very well. Fine. Perfectly. Thank you. Do go on.”
She spotted Julian enter across the room, his dark eyes sadder than a wet hound dog’s as Hilda Berghoff presented herself at his elbow. Stifling a laugh, Lily focused on Pinkie who rambled on about his “superb creature” who would win him races and purses.
Lily could care less. She preferred to dream of riding with Julian. The dangers were many and could be disastrous, even enduring. Still she yearned for the excitement of it. More minutes with him. Alone. And to ride freely. Of course.
But the crux of her anticipation was that she trusted him to keep their secret—and she had no evidence she should. He’d been so casual about the offer, it shocked her. Would he offer such an escapade to an English lady? Or was she ripe for tricking? Mocking? He was a man of his class with all its foibles, and as such, he could flagrantly disregard society’s rules and live to tell about it. Could she trust her instinct that with her, he might be honorable?
Julian’s gaze met hers and the small smile curving his lips had her pulse beating faster. He’d been quick to name the arrangements for their ride. One hour after everyone had retired, he would meet her at the far end of Carbury’s stables. Julian would escort her to his own stable block where he would have instructed his groom to saddle two horses for them. And hers would bear a man’s saddle.
With a resounding thrill singing through her veins, she found herself staring like a loon into the eyes of Elanna Ash who had approached her and Pinkie. By her side was a doting Carbury.
“Horses?” said their host. “Don’t care to know much of them. You, Elanna?”
“No, my lord. I prefer tamer pleasures. Art, for one.” She faced Lily. “Have you visited the South Kensington Museum since you’ve been here, Miss Hanniford?”
The young lady’s words held notes of desperation in them and Lily feared she knew what caused them. “I’m sorry to say I have not. Do you enjoy it?”
“I do very much.” Elanna trained her gaze on her with hot intensity as if to hold Lily’s interest by force of will.
Lord Carbury stood, frowning into his wine. He’d acquired a pettishness whenever Elanna gave her attentions to someone else.
Had Elanna been too much pursued by Lord Carbury?
Lily was happy to offer diversion. “I like museums. Please tell me about the exhibits.”
Elanna went on about the collection of furniture of recent periods. “Textiles from all over the world are displayed. I adore the Chinese silks, embroidered in threads of vibrant shades.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
Marianne smiled at her. “Perhaps after we return to town, we could all visit the museum together?”
“I’d like that very much,” Elanna said and turned to Julian who had entered their circle. “What do you say? Would you attend us?”
“I’d be delighted to offer my escort.”
Elanna leaned toward Lily. “Chelton is modest. He knows more about the Chinese silks than I, and he’s always eager to share his knowledge.”
