“You arenotuseless, Lily. But you are obstinate. Be reasonable about this. If your older sister is foolish enough to marry an impoverished Irish earl, at leastyouought to marry a man of means.”
“Perhaps I should wear a price tag about my neck,” she grumbled. “Or better, you could auction me off to the highest bidder.”
“Unless you improve your temperament, no man would buy you.” With an exasperated huff, her grandmother continued, “Lily, I don’t see why you are being so difficult about this. What is so wrong with marrying a wealthy man, bearing him children, and spending his money?”
She couldn’t give an answer for it was clear that Lady Wolcroft was in earnest. Her grandmother appeared perplexed at the idea that a woman could be anything other than a wife.
Lily squared her shoulders. “I want a life in which I can be more than just a brood mare with a penchant for shopping. And there are no men attending the ball who would allow that.”
The most eligible London bachelors were men of tradition who wanted decorative wives. She found the idea impossible to swallow. Not to mention, her heart was still wounded from the loss of Matthew. If he had given her any sign at all that he cared, she would have waited. But now, she had no choice but to forge a life without him, in spite of the hurt.
“I will not have a bluestocking or a spinster for a granddaughter,” Mildred continued. “And your life is not at all useless. It will serve a great purpose when you bring an heir into the world.”
She didn’t agree at all. She had spent the past two years pining for the man she’d married in secret, believing they would reunite in a proper, legal union…only to find out that he had come home a different man, one who no longer wanted her. No, being a wife had not served her at all. It had only shown her that she had allowed herself to become a shell of a woman, living and dreaming for the return of someone else.
It was no life at all, and she’d had her fill of it.
“You will attend the ball and speak with Lord Davonshire or someone else,” her grandmother pronounced. “That is final.”
Lily crossed her arms and faced down the elderly woman. “Is it?” She spun and crossed the room, feeling the need to escapethe house. It was stifling inside, and she ordered a footman to bring her bonnet and shawl. Perhaps a drive around town might ease her spirits.
While she waited, she spied her mother walking down the stairs. Iris was murmuring to herself, and she was dressed in a blue morning gown. The moment she reached the landing, her gaze centered on Lily.
“Oh, there you are, Lily. I thought we could go out and pay calls together. I should enjoy your company.” While her mother’s words made perfect sense, there was a slight vacant expression upon her face that suggested she was recovering from one of her madness spells. It might be dangerous to take her out.
“Are you feeling well?” she asked Iris directly.
The matron nodded. “A little anxious, but I think some brisk air might do me some good.” Her face softened, and she added, “I promise I will not leave the carriage.” Her embarrassment was evident, and she said, “I know I have not been myself as of late.”
It occurred to Lily that they had been keeping Lady Penford prisoner in the house, too afraid to let her go anywhere. True, Iris suffered from moments of delirium where she saw and heard things that were not real. But to lock her away was no life at all.
She moved forward and linked her arm with her mother’s. “Everything will be fine. And we will take two footmen with us, to make sure we are safe enough.”
The grateful brightness on her mother’s face was like a morning sunrise. “Thank you, Lily,” she whispered.
It took half an hour, but eventually, they drove through the streets in the open carriage, while Lily held her parasol. The sight of her mother’s happiness eased the strain she had been feeling.
“Grandmother insists that I attend Lady Arnsbury’s ball and find someone else to marry,” she confided. “But it’s not so easy.”
Her mother tucked her hand in hers. “No, it is never easy to let go of someone you love. But he may come back to you, once you have set him free.”
The thought was heartbreaking. And right now, she didn’t think she had it within her to begin again.
“I don’t want to go to the ball at all,” Lily confessed. “The idea is unbearable. I cannot imagine the idea of looking for another man to love.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t be looking for someone else,” her mother said quietly. “It might be that you should be looking for yourself instead.” She reached out and squeezed Lily’s palm. “Why not go with the intent of having fun? Do as you please. Laugh and dance and make merry.”
The warmth of her mother’s hand in hers was a welcome comfort. She hadn’t thought about attending the ball with a reckless sense of fun. When had a ball ever been anything except a disastrous attempt at matchmaking?
“I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted. “Grandmother would never condone my having fun.”
Iris smiled. “You ought to try it. And instead of grieving for what you have lost, look and see what you may find instead.”
In that moment, her mother’s advice brought a welcome balm of healing to her wounded heart. It was true that she had never envisioned a ball as a moment of fun. And what if she did? She might discover that it was enjoyable, particularly if she had no intention of finding a husband.
“All right,” she agreed. “I will go. But only for fun.”
“Good.” Iris sighed and for the next few minutes, they drove through the streets, toward no destination in particular. It was a fine day, and Lily enjoyed the warmth of sunlight on her face. When they passed the street where Matthew lived with his mother, she felt a twinge of sadness before she forced it away.Iris asked, “Did you want to stop and pay a call upon Lady Arnsbury before this evening?”
