“I am going to clean up as soon as I return to my chamber.” Lilly smiled reassuringly. Shewaspleased for Glenda. Shedidwant Glenda to be happy. She was her sister’s daughter. Lilly had not been able to be a mother as she’d first thought, but if it was the last thing she did, she would make certain Rose’s daughter had a promising future. “I met his sister, Lady Natalie, before leaving last night. I think they must be a very pleasant family, don’t you?” At Glenda’s enthusiastic nod, Lilly continued, “Now let me pass so I can be presentable for Aunt Eleanor’s at-home.”
Glenda laughed and then danced her way downstairs.
Lilly’s own steps slowed as she considered this new development.
Very well then. Obviously, things would not be as simple as she’d hoped. It seemed Michael’s fiancée and family were not going away. Lilly must find a way to endure them. No that was not fair. ShelikedLady Natalie.
This was a good thing. It ought to be a very good thing.
Hopefully Michael—er, His Grace, that was—spent most of his time with an older set. Oh, blast, he was always going to be Michael to her.
Lilly could do this. Melancholy would not take hold of her again!
For a debutantenewly introduced to society, the afternoon at home proved to be a rousing success. Several of the younger gentlemen arrived bearing bouquets of flowers and chocolates for Glenda. Most importantly, though, Mr. Joseph Spencer, with his sister in tow, kept his word and arrived as promised.
Lilly found him to be a rather pleasant gentleman. She even allowed Glenda to accept an invitation to go out riding with him and his sister later in the afternoon. Lilly would come along as well in order to lend the outing more respectability.
Their visitors also included both Miss Penelope Crone and Mrs. John Tiddle (formerly Miss Caroline Harris). Lilly spent over an hour catching up on the events of both their lives.
Caroline, now the mother of four, yesfourrambunctious boys ranging from age three to seven, confided she might be carrying again. Caroline and her husband resided in London year-round as he worked as a barrister and his office required he be at hand daily. The children were currently with a new governess, the former having recently married. Mrs. Tiddle gave Lilly considerable detail regarding each of her offspring,which although a bit tedious, was very sweet. Lilly was pleased to know her friend had made such an amiable match. She tried not to wonder how many children she and Michael might have had by now.
Miss Crone had turned down so many offers that her family now declared her quite firmly on the shelf. Penelope said she preferred it this way. Quietly, she told Lilly she would only marry if she could find the kind of love Lilly and Captain Redmond—the duke—had seemed to have found long ago. She said, although it had ended in heartache, for she knew Lilly must have been heartbroken, they had shown her true love existed. “And I cannot,” she said, “quite literally, give myself, my very person, to a man unless he is passionately in love with me, and I feel the same in return.”
Lilly listened as her friend told her how she had seen too many miserable matches amongst theton, and she did not wish to become a member of such a hideous group. “If I cannot trust my husband to care for me more than for his own personal interests, why on earth should I give him ownership of my person?” Penelope was adamant about her position. Lilly agreed emphatically. She had been Lord Beauchamp’s property.
It was a boon for Penelope to have been blessed with the financial freedom to eschew marriage if she so wished.
After the last of the guests left, Glenda glowed, and Aunt Eleanor declared her a dazzling success. Finally, Lilly thought, things were going smoothly.
For once.
A SECOND SEASON
Once the season began, there were events to attend nearly every day, sometimes two, even! Lilly, Glenda, and Lady Eleanor attended garden parties, musicales, and picnics and often went on shopping expeditions with Penelope, Caroline, and Natalie. (No more Miss or Mrs. or Lady this or that).
And of course, they attended balls. And the same as before, Aunt Eleanor managed to receive invitations to every single one—those that mattered anyhow. Each week, she and Lilly carefully considered which events would be the best to attend and which shouldabsolutely notbe attended. Lilly found that she could exist quite nicely in London without seeing Michael for days at a time.
She did find herself, however, spending a great deal of time with his fiancée.
A fiancée, she might add, who rarely mentioned him, and quite easily dismissed him from her life in favor of spiriting about with her more youthful friends. Natalie loved to shop and had made it her mission to persuade Lilly to shed many of her old and less than fashionable gowns. Unable to resistNatalie’s tenacity, Lilly allowed herself to purchase a few evening dresses which enhanced her figure and coloring. Insisting it was completely acceptable for a widow, the modiste presented gowns which were inevitably cut low in the bodice and made up of reds and golds. Lilly would protest, but Natalie had a knack for persuading Lilly that sheabsolutely mustpurchase this very one. “Besides,” Natalie would say, “it is your duty to allow all of us debutantes to live vicariously through you. After I am married, I shall wear nothing but the boldest of colors! I’ll never wear anything pink again!”
Lilly loved the idea of Michael’s perfect duchess decked out in bright red and a daringly low bodice.
Having previously only worn her older clothing, Lilly chose the Mathison gala to debut the first of her new dresses. It was a deep gold color. “Just like your eyes,” Natalie had said. It was designed to be worn without a corset or petticoats. Aunt Eleanor simply loved it and declared she wished she had worn something just like it when she had had the figure to carry it off.
The dress was enchanting! As though hibernating for a decade, the woman inside of Lilly blossomed upon donning it. Being a widow held some tantalizing possibilities. With little adornment, the dress draped Lilly in elegant sophistication. She was her own person, not the property of any man, including a father or husband.
Lilly’s transformation did not go unnoticed. Whereas before, curious eyes would notice, inspect, and then dismiss, they now noticed, inspected, and then inspected some more. Lilly wished she had kept her shawl about her. The attention, as exciting as it was, also proved a little frightening. She had worn the dress because she liked it. She hadn’t considered the fact that she would no longer blend in with the matrons and wallflowers. She’d not considered that she might, in fact, attract masculine notice. Upon finding a settee for AuntEleanor, Lilly took the space beside her. Shewasa chaperone, after all—and a companion.
Nonetheless, she found she did attract the attention of a few rather handsome gentlemen. (Not all of them were, in truth, handsome.) But Lilly pleased herself by finding a positive attribute in each one of her partners.
Oh, but the heat!
As the night wore on, the room, as was usually the case, grew warm. When a particularly lively country dance ended, Lilly and Penelope slipped into the ladies’ retiring room to cool their temples with some tepid water. What with all the dancing and the candles, both admitted to feeling overheated. They took their time on the sofas provided.
“He’s being a ninny,” Penelope stated as she removed her slippers to massage her toes.
Lilly pretended not to know who Penelope meant by “he” but glanced around to be certain they were alone, nonetheless.
