He didn’t ask, simply held out his hand, and Liliah placed hers within his grasp, reluctantly following as they took the floor.
“By your expression, I can only assume you had as much progress with your father as I’ve had with mine,” Meyer said, his brown eyes sober as his gaze flickered away—likely looking for Rebecca.
“Your assumption would be correct,” Liliah replied.
Meyer took a deep breath, meeting her gaze. “We’ll figure something out.”
“But Meyer—” Liliah started.
“We will. We just need to bide our time till the opportunity presents itself.” He nodded with a brave confidence in his deep eyes.
“But what if we don’t?” Liliah hated to give voice to her deepest fears, watching as Meyer’s brave façade slowly fractured.
“Liliah, I—I can’t think of that. I’m damned if I do, damned if I do not. I’m sure your father reminded you about my title—”
“And how Lord and Lady Grace wouldn’t consider you without a title . . .”
“Exactly. I have to hold on to hope. But I, I do need to tell you . . . Liliah, if we are forced . . . nothing between us will change.” He lowered his chin, meeting Liliah’s gaze dead on, conveying words he couldn’t speak out loud.
“Thank you,” Liliah replied, feeling relieved. As much as she hated the idea of a platonic marriage, it hurt far worse to think of the betrayal that would haunt them all should Meyer take her to bed. It hurt to think she’d never know physical love, yet what choice did they all have? Should they take that step, Meyer would be thinking of Rebecca during the act, Liliah would know, and would not only be betraying her friend, but how could she not be resentful? Far better for them to simply bide their time till an arrangement could be made—she would simply step aside. Maybe take a lover of her own?
How she hated how complicated her life had become.
Liliah took a deep breath, mindlessly performing the waltz steps. A smile quirked her lips as she had a rather unhelpful—yet still amusing—thought.
“Ah, I know that smile. What is your devious mind thinking?” Meyer asked, raising a dark brow even as he grinned.
Liliah gave him a mock glare. “I’m not devious.”
“You are utterly devious.” Meyer chuckled. “Which makes you a very diverting friend indeed. Now share your thoughts.”
Liliah rolled her eyes. “Such charm. Very well, I was simply thinking how it would be lovely if we could simply make the wedding a masquerade and have Rebecca switch places with me at the last moment! Then you’d marry her rather than me and it would be over and done before they could change it!” She hitched a shoulder at her silly thoughts.
Meyer chuckled. “Devious indeed! Too bad it will not work.” He furrowed a brow and glanced away, as if thinking.
“What isyourwicked mind concocting?”
“Nothing of import.” His gaze shifted back to her. “Your mentioning of the masquerade reminded me of an earlier conversation with a chum.”
Liliah grinned. “Is there a masquerade ball being planned?” she asked with barely restrained enthusiasm.
“Indeed, but it is one to which you will not be invited, thank heavens.” He shook his head, grinning, yet his expression was one of relief.
“Why so?”
“It’s not a masquerade for polite society, my dear. And I shouldn’t have even mentioned it.”
“A secret? Meyer, you simply must tell me!”
“Heavens no! This is not for your delicate—”
Liliah snorted softly, giving him an exasperated expression, before she slowly grinned.
“Aw hell. I know that smile. Liliah . . .” he warned.
“If you won’t tell me, then I can always ask someone else—”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort!”
