“Ah, a bloody Greek tragedy.”
“Indeed.” Lucas glanced over his shoulder at his friend.
“But that is my point.” Heathcliff came to stand beside Lucas. “Clearly there is no obligation for her to remain faithful to her husband in name only, so you would be free to take her as mistress. No one would be the wiser, and it certainly seems that since Lady Liliah was willing to run headlong into ruin before marriage, she’d be willing to participate in it after.”
Lucas studied the flames as they danced in the hearth. “You make a valid point. I’ll consider it.”
“There’s little to consider. Either you wish to make a chaotic mess with Chatterwood and Greywick, or you wish to let things take their natural progression and you swoop in to snatch up your mistress.”
Lucas nodded. “When have I ever taken the easy road?” He studied his friend.
“Never. Damn it. How I wish you would, just once in a while.” Heathcliff sighed. “Very well, I assume we’re going out tonight?”
“You would assume correctly.”
“Should I tell Ramsey?”
“No, he’ll hate the idea. Let him make love to his numbers.”
Heathcliff shook his head. “Don’t speak of it that way.”
“How well you know that our friend loves his work above all else.”
“Indeed, but I can remember a time that someone else did as well . . . now look at us?” Heathcliff spoke meaningfully.
“Damn you,” Lucas retorted.
“As I said, how the mighty have fallen. Just be sure that you don’t take me down with you, old man.” Heathcliff slapped his friend on the back and strode from the study.
Lucas studied the fire a few more minutes, piecing the plan together in finer detail in this mind, then took his carriage home from the club.
One thing was for certain, he needed his rest—for tonight he planned on other activities.
Wicked, delightful, and erotic activities—and Lucas fell asleep with a grin.
Chapter Twenty-one
Liliah was loath to dress for the evening party at the Ganders’. It would be a small affair, and as such she had requested to decline the invitation. Yet her father held fast, requiring them to attend. It was as if he wished her and Meyer to be seen in every venue, at every opportunity, even if it had only been a few days since the announcement.
The idea of it was like a millstone around her neck, holding her down, oppressing her usual delight in life. So it was with great reluctance that Liliah entered the carriage with her father to attend the soirée. The idea that she’d no longer see Lucas only added to her disenchantment with life. Though he’d awakened her body in ways she’d never imagined, she rather found that the seduction was only a part of the reason she missed him. Lucas was a delight to converse with, and he withheld no honesty from his words—it was refreshing, and in a world where her friends were becoming more and more distant, he had been a welcome distraction and addition to her life. Yet that was over, and she didn’t resent his disappearance. It was their agreement, and she would honor her side of it. No matter how it hurt.
The Ganders’ estate was a white stone structure in Mayfair with a long gravel drive that was illuminated by Chinese lanterns. It was a lovely sight that momentarily lifted Liliah’s spirits. The great stone pillars held up the portico, which was reminiscent of Grecian architecture, and Liliah studied them as she took the white stone steps along with the other guests. Music from stringed instruments floated through the air, welcoming the ton into the ballroom. As Liliah glanced around, she was surprised that it was more heavily attended than she had anticipated. Normally the Ganders’ parties were of the smaller, more intimate variety. Of course, being the daughter of a duke, she was always invited. Whether the party be large or small—it was ever aboutwhoattended.
And she was of the notable variety.
Sure enough, she quickly spotted Meyer in his evening kit, and for once a smile illuminated his features. Her heart pinched in both sorrow and delight. Sorrow for how long it had been since she’d seen it, and delight because he had found his smile once more. Meyer was conversing with a dark-haired gentleman, but the crowd obstructed any more detail, and Liliah moved on in search of Rebecca. She’d resolved to make amends in their friendship, however impossible that might be. A footman passed with a tray of ratafia, and Liliah took a glass. Sipping the sweet concoction, she approached her dear friend Rebecca. Placing a hand on her shoulder, she waited for her friend to notice her presence.
“Hello,” Liliah offered when Rebecca met her gaze.
Rebecca smiled, her expression holding a twinge of sadness, yet her eyes were clear as she reached out and grasped Liliah’s hand. “Let us have a moment to speak.” She turned to the other ladies in the circle. “Please excuse me.” With a delicate curtsey, she tugged on Liliah’s hand and led them toward the refreshment table.
“Liliah, I owe you a sincere apology,” Rebecca began, then met her gaze with an earnest one of her own. “Yes, I’m heartbroken, but that is not your fault, and if anything, you’ve done your best to ease my pain—while I’ve done nothing to consider yours. For that I’m truly sorry.” Rebecca spoke tenderly.
Liliah blinked, never once considering her friend’s actions as needful of forgiveness, yet deeply touched that she’d offer herself in such a way. “Thank you, yet there is nothing to forgive,” Liliah replied emphatically.
“Indeed there is, but it is ever so kind of you to overlook it. You are my dearest friend, Liliah, and I don’t wish to lose you. Ever. Come what may.” Rebecca squeezed Liliah’s hand and Liliah returned the gesture.
“Nor I.”
