Page 50 of Long Live the Baron
His absence from their glum home made matters much worse. Lily had had a grand plan to ensure that they spent time together in the first few days of their marriage and fell in love. She had believed she had made great strides the evening before, that everything was going according to plan after the flirting and the … lovemaking … Lily blushed at the recollection, before gathering her wits back together. Currently, she did not know where he was and when he was returning. The only thing that had kept her sane all day was believing he would return for dinner.
Out in the entry hall, the great casement clock chimed, announcing the hour. Lily’s shoulders drooped in disappointment. She was desperately lonely, having moved around the house all day. Reading a book had not distracted her. Visiting the kitchen to meet the cook and maids had only occupied the better part of an hour; all the while, the women had cast nervous glances at the hulking man standing by the door.
In the distance, she heard a door open and close, and then footsteps in the hall. Springing to her feet, she ran to the door, ignoring the second John to see if Brendan was finally home. As she reached the doorway, Michaels appeared out of the shadows.
“Dinner is ready, milady.” The droll announcement hit Lily like a slap. It was just the butler. Brendan had not returned.
Lily nodded, then exited the room when Michaels stepped aside for her. Heading to the breakfast room, she felt her emotions slipping perilously close to despair.
What could Brendan be doing that was more important than dinner with her?
As she entered, the sound of rain began, reflecting her mood perfectly. Taking her seat at the table, she stared at the flowers arranged in a vase, the only bright color in the dreary room. Until now, she had believed that he was engaged in some sort of work. Perhaps visiting his solicitors or something of that nature. Now dinner was being served, which limited the number of places he could be. The people he could be visiting.
Stanley, one of the footmen Brendan had told her about, placed a plate on the table before stepping away. She supposed the footman was one of the reasons for the second John standing at the door of the breakfast room.
Lily raised a trembling hand to her brow, fighting back tears that burned her eyes. It would not do to break in front of the hired men, but … was it possible that Brendan could be with Lady Slight?
CHAPTER14
“Prohibit the taking of omens, and do away with superstitious doubts. Then, until death itself comes, no calamity need be feared.”
Sun Tzu, L’Art de la Guerre (The Art of War)
* * *
JULY 31, 1821
Twelve hours had passed, and Lily was back in the breakfast room. Alone.
Rain roared outside, the heavens still weeping as they had throughout the night.
It took a lot to depress her good spirits, but Lily had discovered that being ambushed with the two Johns, and not hearing from her husband since she had fallen asleep in his arms on their wedding night, along with the dreary weather, would do it. Sleep had been elusive, every rattling creak causing her eyes to fly open and her heart to jump despite knowing that second John stood guard nearby. His pacing only added to the ghostly atmosphere, his low footfalls occasionally startling her from a light doze when she managed to sleep at all. The sound of persistent rain had only added to the sense of isolation.
Their first evening together had been so perfect, a promise of all the good things to come.
Now her heart was aching. She enjoyed Brendan’s company, and she had enjoyed their nocturnal activities. Her hope was that it would lead to more time together, but now she could not shake the suspicion that Brendan might have left her alone to see his paramour.
Perhaps their night that she experienced as magical had been merely boring to him. Perhaps she did not measure up against the wiles of a sophisticated widow who was skilled in the bedroom.
Perhaps she was a ninny and being overly dramatic.
It has been a day and a half since I last saw my new husband. Perhaps I am permitted to be a tad melodramatic.
Lily groaned, leaning her head against her hand. It was pounding something fierce. That first John was there to witness her distress no longer signified. It was exhausting to have someone watching every movement.
Last night she had gone to her room, closing the door on second John and doing her best not to be loud in her room in case he could overhear what she was doing. By the time she had awoken this morning, she no longer cared. She could not maintain a perfect front with first John nearby.
Reaching over the table, she pulled a stack of news sheets over to peruse while she sipped on her tea. Wesley had presented the fresh stack when he had shown her into the breakfast room, and Lily suspected it was because he pitied her isolation of the day before. It had been a thoughtful gesture, which had made her feel … seen.
She skimmed the news, reading about goings-on about Town. There was still talk of the coronation and King George IV. Some political news was covered.
Moving the top sheet aside, she reached for another. This was more of a gossip rag that she rarely read. She started to put it aside when a line jumped out at her, almost causing her to drop her tea.
Shaking her head, Lily set the cup down on its saucer and pushed it away. Then she carefully reread the news sheet.
Just yesterday, Lord F. and Lady S. were seen conversing intimately on a public street. Has the notorious widow taken back up with him, despite his recent vows to Miss A.?
Her heart squeezed painfully. Lily released the page, dropping her head into her hands while tears welled despite her best efforts to hold them back. Brendan had assured her that their marriage would be a faithful one. What did ‘intimately’ mean? How was she to?—
