Page 110 of Wild Lily
Ada leaned close to Lily, fighting a devilish grin. “Did you know that Marianne did not come home until after two o’clock?”
Lily had suspected as much when Marianne had not answered her bedroom door this morning when Lily knocked.
“Papa doesn’t know,” Ada added. “But I’d bet he suspects.”
Lily trained her gaze on her father who stood, champagne flute in hand, focusing down on a tall, elegant woman in a whimsical, blue feathered hat. Lily couldn’t see her face, but odds were she was beyond stunning. Papa didn’t countenance any but that. Yet by the cut of her blue moire gown and the abundance of sapphires at her throat, she was a lady of means. By her posture, she was a person at ease in this posh gathering of wedding guests. But by the way she spoke to Black Irish Hanniford, she imparted some fantastic tale with hand gestures that spoke of birds and trees and maybe even monkeys. While he…
Lily bit her lip, quelling her laughter.
Her father focused on the lady’s mouth as if he’d nibble her for breakfast.
“Papa thinks she’s fabulous,” Ada said on a giggle.
“It’s about time he thought that of a lady, wouldn’t you say?”
“Wouldn’t you mind if he married again?” Ada asked as if she’d never thought he’d do such a thing.
“At the moment, he’s interested only in talking to the lady, Ada.”
“Well, since Mama died, he’s been so alone.”
Not quite alone.Ada, away at boarding school and sheltered from the realities of their father’s day-to-day existence, had no means to know of their sire’s mistresses. With one in Baltimore and one in Corpus Christi, he was always well occupied and had seemed content with his arrangements. Never complaining. Never talking about finding a wife.
“It’s been thirteen years now,” Ada mused. “He must want companionship, wouldn’t you say?”
Lily had always predicted her father’s type of companionship would be a buxom widow who knew how to laugh, preferably in bed. Naked. Marianne added that the lady better know a few Irish pub songs and be able to drink like a sailor.
“He should find a woman who amuses him.”This one looks eligible and…eminently beddable.
“I say,” Marianne approached them, worry lining her brow. “Donotlook over now. Too many are. But we have unhappy lovebirds.”
“Oh, no.” Lily feared an argument between them. Had done since the dreadful announcement of their engagement. Horrible that today their pot would boil over and in public. But there was no mistaking Elanna’s raised voice and Carbury’s rebuke. Elanna’s fists were clenched and Carbury’s eyes bulged from his head. This looked like war.
Where was Julian?
Lily panicked, glanced about and saw him in deep conversation with Remy. Julian could stop this.
“I will not, I tell you!” Elanna yelled at Carbury. “You cannot force me.”
“But I will, my dear,” Carbury said with a sneer.
Elanna yanked free of him, her fists clenched, triumph in her posture as she marched away from her groom.
Julian and Remy darted forward.
Elanna sailed past Lily, tears cascading down her cheeks.
“Bastard.” Pierce came abreast of Lily. “I could kill him.”
“Stop!” She caught his arm. “Dear God, don’t move.”
Everyone in the room froze.
Carbury’s eyes bulged from his head as he whirled on Pierce. One gentleman took a step toward him.
Julian stepped in front of the earl and waylaid him.
The Duchess of Seton fluttered among them, her lips quivering with restrained anger and chagrin. “Nerves, nerves. Nothing more. Do play on,” she encouraged the cellist who had been giving forth some Bach or Beethoven ditty.
