Page 17 of Wild Lily
The man lived in the adjoining estate in Kent and their families had mingled and intermarried off and on for centuries. Carbury was a decade or more older than Julian and bore the signs of age in his lined forehead and thinning gray hair.
“Good evening, Carbury,” his mother addressed him. “Are you in town for the running of the races?”
“I am. Cannot resist the lure.” He took the duchess’s hand to bow over it and then took up Elanna’s to offer the same homage. “Here for another few weeks, then back to the lair. Winter comes. Must do the accounting. Hideous task. What of you? Here for the winter?”
“We return home next week.” Julian had to smile at the way Carbury could not seem to take his eyes off Elanna. The widower was too old, too much of a fuddy-duddy for his virginal sister, but Elanna enjoyed his company when he came to call. And he had called often last spring and summer. He’d made no overture to Elanna. Made no offer for her hand. Yet the fact that he was here in Paris at the same time seemed a bit of a coincidence and Julian wondered if Elanna or his mother had told the middle-aged duke of their travel plans.
“I return for my scheduled instructions in landscape painting,” Elanna told Carbury with a grin.
“Ah, yes, your efforts to exceed Mr. Turner,” he joked. “I do recall.”
Elanna lifted a shoulder. “I mustn’t disappoint Monsieur de la Bran with my lack of advancement.”
“You have determination,” he said with assurance. “You will succeed.”
A tall, dark, figure strolled abreast of their party. Waiting politely for an opening, he had turned to the two ladies who accompanied him. Julian’s skin prickled with a sensation of being watched. And he stepped to one side.
When he looked into their faces, he had jolt. Beside Killian Hanniford stood the two women whom he’d met this afternoon in the midst of the accident. And like a magnet, he focused on the startling blue eyes of Miss Lily Hanniford.
“Good evening, my lord,” the American millionaire said to Carbury in his leisurely American accent. “Forgive us for our tardiness.”
“I am most delighted to see you. All of you,” Carbury said, shaking hands with the gentleman and bowing to the ladies. “You are not late at all. We are reminiscing. Allow me to present my friends. My neighbors, too, they are.”
Carbury did the honors most prettily, so well in fact that Julian could greet Killian Hanniford with equanimity. He’d met with the infamous American blockade runner three times in the past two weeks and known him to be blunt, forceful but polite. As a scrapper from the docks of Baltimore, Hanniford had acquired polish with his fortune. Here as in his offices, the man was tailored, barbered to a far thee well and his manners were impeccable. So fine in fact that Julian’s mother, whether or not she knew of Hanniford’s proposed raid of Cardiff Shipping, accepted the introduction with a smug look of satisfaction. A rare thing.
So when the moment came for Carbury to introduce Julian to the luscious Miss Hanniford, he easily grasped her hand and bowed over her soft leather glove. “I had the honor to meet Miss Hanniford this afternoon. And Mrs. Roland as well. Good evening, ladies. I trust you have recovered from the upset of the afternoon.”
“We did. Thank you, Lord Chelton,” Lily told him with a cool politesse that surprised and distressed him.
“You were very helpful, my lord,” Mrs. Roland added with more graciousness than Julian perceived in Lily’s greeting. “You saved us from disaster. Especially Madame le Comtesse.”
“What is this?” his mother asked. “You told me nothing of a disaster.”
Julian inclined his head. “It was a runaway horse and a frightened hack, Mama. Remy and I dealt with them both.”
“And I, Lord Chelton,” said Killian Hanniford with earnest thanks, “am the one most grateful for your intervention. Lily and Marianne told me all the details and I’m in awe of your quick thinking and your skill.”
His mother cocked a haughty brow. “Chelton has always made a habit of walking into danger.”
Thank you, Mama. Such a dubious commendation is so unwelcome.
“No wonder he did well today,” Lily Hanniford said with smooth flattery that warmed him and made his mother turn to glass.
Julian did not know what to say to that. It was not often someone could take his mother’s words and turn them into a compliment. Amusement curled his mouth. Appreciation made him grin.
“Here’s Remy,” his mother said and smiled at the man who bowed graciously to them all.
“Bon soir. Forgive me my tardiness,” Remy said, his twinkling eyes traveling the party and pausing for a second on the widow Roland. “Another accident along the Rue de la Paix tonight. I fear we have a contagion on our hands.“
His mother rushed to introduce Remy to the ladies, Hanniford and Carbury as if she wished him gone. But the chimes sounded for an intermission between acts and Carbury bent over Elanna, eager as a puppy and smiling at her.
He extended his hand toward the door to a nearby box. “I hope all of you will join me here. The Hannifords are my guests and the four of you would turn us into a very grand party.”
Elanna pressed back against Julian’s arm.
Remy grinned, his attention to Mrs. Roland flagrantly apparent.
And for himself, desire to be near charming Lily was raw. Better judgment screamed he should refuse.
