Page 56 of Long Live the Baron
He exhaled in a puff, dropping his head as if hearing the worst news. When he sorted out this muddle with Lily, he would confess to her how he had addressed the widow’s peeves, but right now he stood on the precipice of a resolution and it was imperative he remove this troublesome distraction. There were actual life and death matters to contend with.
“I … understand. And I thank you for our time together.”I shall always remember our time fondly.He could not bring himself to say the words, which would have been untrue and an assault on his integrity, regardless of how perfectly they would conclude their scene together.
A rustle of skirts informed him that Harriet had risen, but he dared not glance up in case his deception was revealed upon his face. The widow walked around, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently in commiseration. “Do not despair, Brendan. I shall always remember our time fondly.”
He nearly burst into incredulous laughter when Harriet echoed his thought from seconds earlier. Instead, he bobbed his head in acknowledgment, keeping his eyes fixed on the grain of the mahogany table. “Thank you.”
With that, Harriet walked away. Finally able to look up, he watched her, noting she was unsteady on her feet. He could only hope she was not too soused to recollect that she had ended things with him.
He waited in the library, playing out his tragic air until he was certain she had left. It would ruin everything if he sprang to his feet too soon, determined to find his bride and explain this invasion of their home.
* * *
Lily had been weepingin the dismal drawing room, while outside the bright sunlight of a summer afternoon mocked her. She was going to have her trunks packed as soon as she could stop the storm of tears?—
“Milady?”
She screeched in fright, jumping up to swipe her eyes dry before slowly turning around the room to find the source of the voice. As she swiveled toward the fireplace, she was utterly astonished to find Wesley standing by an open, previously concealed door with a tea tray.
There was so much to comprehend.
First, there was a door next to the fireplace she had never noticed before. It was covered in oak paneling and wallpaper to blend in with the rest of the wall. Under normal circumstances, she would be fascinated to discover what was ostensibly a secret entrance, the kind that wealthy homeowners had a penchant for, but with other issues on her mind, she concluded she would inspect it later.
If there is a later.
Wesley stood with a pained expression on his face, raising the tray as if to remind her he was there. Lily shifted her gaze back to him. The footmen hired in noble residences were part of the presentation of the household’s wealth and status, an extension of the grand houses they served in. The footmen of Ridley House were no different, Wesley and the others being tall, lean men who were distinguished even in the dated style of livery that they wore.
He had a pleasant countenance, as did the other footmen, with a spattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose which spoke to the reddish tint of his brown hair. The servants had the customary white stockings and shining buckled shoes that any household livery included, but the style of the navy breeches and coat were faded and of a bygone era.
“I do not wish to be impertinent, milady, but … I thought perhaps you would like some tea?”
Lily blinked in surprise. Given all that had happened in the past few minutes, this mundane conversation was completely unexpected. She recollected Wesley had seemed uncomfortable earlier, reluctant even, when he had directed where to find her husband. Now he had taken pains to find her to offer her tea? It was unbearably sweet, and Lily realized she had no wish to continue with the strain she had been experiencing this past week or so.
She thought about how she had been friends with many of the servants in her parents’ home. How their footman, Thomas, had once caught an intruder when Sophia had convinced him to lay a trap for a man seeking to abduct her. How Nancy had been her constant companion since Sophia had married. Suddenly, Lily just wanted to experience an ordinary interlude with another person.
No murders, no enforced courtships, no hasty weddings, no reluctant or unfaithful husbands, no fear. Just a normal conversation between two normal people.
“Only if you join me,” she replied, gesturing to the tray.
“Oh no, milady! It is not permitted.”
“Wesley, I … order you to sit down and have a cup of tea with me.”
Wesley stared at her, his eyes wide as he thought about it. “Very well, milady. If that is what you wish.”
“It is.”
He nodded, moving forward to place the tea tray on the table by the settee. Then he looked about before walking over to collect a tumbler from the drinks cabinet. Returning, he sat across from her, perched awkwardly on the edge of the armchair as if he were ready to spring to his feet.
Lily straightened up on the settee, lowering her feet to the floor, and leaned forward. Placing the strainer over the cup on the tray, she poured her tea and then raised the teapot toward the footman. Wesley placed the tumbler down. “I hope it is acceptable for me to use this? I only brought the one cup.”
She could not care two pennies about what happened to her faithless husband’s crystal tumbler after what she had witnessed in the library. “It is suitable.”
Moving the strainer to the glass, she poured his tea for him. The orange-brown tint made her mouth water in anticipation, and Lily felt a genuine moment of peace. These past weeks had been hell, and it felt so wonderfully commonplace to enjoy a cup of tea.
Sitting back, she sipped on the hot liquid, and the tension slowly melted away. Soon she would have to confront Brendan with the remnants of their marriage, and make decisions about how to repair her shattered dreams, but that moment was not now.
Wesley raised his glass and sipped uncomfortably. Lily supposed it was fortunate he wore the gloves of his livery because the glass must have heated considerably from its contents.
