She caught her sister’s hand and together they walked back to the parlor doors. Lily glanced back at him over her shoulder, one last pleading look, and then she entered the room with her sister.
But even though this first confrontation was over, nothing had been resolved. And George had no idea what to do next when he was being pulled apart by what he had done, what he had promised, and what he wanted even though it was so very, very wrong.
CHAPTER10
How Lily had made it through the rest of the previous evening, she didn’t know. Somehow she’d talked to the others and smiled and pretended to listen to the music, all while the world was falling out from underneath her. She’d felt Lockhart’s gaze on her far too often, his expression serious and dire.
She’d paced her room all night after, dressing gown flapping around her bare legs, reliving not only the moment when she’d realized he recognized her, but all those heated moments at the masquerade, only this time with the knowledge of who this man was, with the knowledge that he knew her too.
Now she stood in a parlor alone, still wracked by those memories and emotions. Only as time passed, as the shock and horror of his discovery of who she was faded a fraction, she felt something else: relief. It was a relief that she wasn’t alone in this anymore. That she was no longer keeping the secret. It was theirs now.
Theirs. Nothing should ever be theirs. Not before. Not again.
She sighed and walked to the window to overlook the garden below. Servants were preparing a bowls field for ninepins, which seemed to be the next family activity for the day. She would have to stand close to Lockhart again, have to smile and pretend and know he was doing the same.
It wouldn’t be the right moment to discuss the topic of their history, of course. But with more time between her and the revelation, she knew they must. They had to come to some accord for Alice, and for her own sanity.
How they could do that, she didn’t know.
“Oh, Mrs. Manning, good morning again.”
Lily turned toward the door with a smile as Lady Pembrooke entered the room. She was a striking woman, even at her advanced years. She had a gentleness to her, though. A kindness that seemed to permeate all interactions. Not to mention she looked very pretty in a fine blue-gray gown that matched her eyes, which Lockhart had inherited from her. Though when Lily looked closer, she noted that she looked a little tired.
“Good morning, my lady,” she said. “That is a lovely gown.”
“Thank you, my dear,” the countess said, smoothing the lines of it with a blush. “I can give you the name of my seamstress if you like, she is a dream.”
“That would be very kind,” Lily said. She motioned to the window. “I see they’re setting up for bowls. You did say at breakfast that there would be lawn games before luncheon.”
“Oh yes.” Lady Pembrooke joined her at the window. “Bowls are a favorite of both my son and my husband. We’ve spent many a fine afternoon playing over the years. Do you enjoy such games?”
“I do,” Lily admitted. “There’s nothing better than a rousing match in fine weather.”
“Then you will do well with this family, for we’re of a competitive mindset.” The countess chuckled. “And what of your sister? Does Alice also like a hearty battle?”
Lily pursed her lips. Alice had never been one to be interested in observing sport, let alone participating in it. She was graceful as a dancer, but never on a field. “Alice is a bit…softer in her ways. She is more of an observer than player.”
“Ah.” Lady Pembrooke sighed. “Well, perhaps we can bring her out of her shell. George is very good at that sort of thing.”
George. Lily hadn’t dared to think of him by his first name since her arrival. Every little step toward further intimacy, even in her own mind, was so fraught with danger.
“I imagine he must be,” she said softly. And she did. He was clearly the kind of man who brightened every room he entered. Who drew people to him like moths to his light. Certainly she had found him irresistible and now she would burn.
“Perhaps I’ll pair you with my husband for the game, as I’m confident Kirkwood and Clarissa will wish to be together.” Lady Pembrooke smiled. “Newlywed love, you know.”
“They are very well matched. She seems vastly content with him.”
Lady Pembrooke nodded. “She is. Our dear Clarissa had a difficult time of it, so to see her so very happy is wonderful. And he is an old friend to George, so we’ve known him since he was in short pants. Their marriage suits him, as well. I hope my son will ultimately be just as happy.”
Lily cleared her throat, unwilling to get into a conversation about how Lockhart might be changed by marriage. “You said you would pair me with the earl. You don’t intend to play, yourself?”
“No,” Lady Pembrooke said after a little pause. “Not today, I think.”
There was something in the lady’s tone that made Lily look a little closer. Her gaze was clouded now, troubled. She stepped nearer to her hostess. “Are you—are you well, my lady?”
The countess’s expression tightened a fraction. “Oh yes, my dear. You’re very kind to ask. I’m just a bit tired, that’s all. Now it looks as though the others are beginning to gather. Will you go down with me?”
“Of course,” Lily said, though she remained a little troubled by the countess’s behavior. It wasn’t the first time she’d noticed the tension in the woman. Was she troubled by something regarding Alice and Lockhart? Or was it something else that gave her that air of worry?
