Lady Pembrooke’s eyebrows lifted at the question and she looked again toward her son and then back at Lily. “No,” she said slowly. “I simply see it. And the way Alice speaks about you implies it, as well.”
“Oh.” She feared she’d revealed too much of herself to this woman and so she remained quiet as they returned to watching the couple. At last Alice turned away from him, her mouth curving down the moment she didn’t believe he could see. Lockhart let out a small sigh before he stepped away to join some of the others.
Her heart both soared and sank. Sank because their lack of connection could only bring heartbreak to them both. Soared because…well, because she was selfish, wasn’t she? No matter what George said to the contrary, what she was feeling was grasping for what wasn’t hers just because she’d held it for one perfect night.
“I don’t know if I did the right thing,” Lady Pembrooke breathed.
Lily wrinkled her brow as she looked at Lady Pembrooke’s troubled expression. “How so?”
Instead of answering, the countess’s face went pale and she swayed a fraction. Lily caught her arm, shoring her up. “Oh my lady, gracious, are you well? Here, let me take you to the settee.”
“Thank you,” Lady Pembrooke said, her voice suddenly very small.
“Oh, Aunt Louisa,” Clarissa gasped, breaking away from her husband to move across the room toward them. Lord Pembrooke had been standing with the other earls and he also began across the room, his expression concerned.
But it was Lockhart whose reaction was most powerful. He’d been at the sideboard refreshing his drink, but he pivoted when Clarissa called out and there was such an expression on his face as Lily helped his mother to a seat. Something ragged and raw, horror and terror, but all of it laced with a pain that she recognized and felt too keenly.
Heartbreak. Loss.
As he rushed across the room toward them, practically bowling over his father as he did so, Lily looked at Lady Pembrooke. It wasn’t the first time she’d noticed the countess seemed…off, somehow. Now she wondered what was wrong with her. And why only Lockhart seemed to be so truly terrified of it.
He took a place next to his mother, catching her hand in both of his. “Mama, are you well?”
She nodded, though the color hadn’t returned to her cheeks. “Oh, yes. Just a little dizzy. It’s all the excitement, I suppose.”
Lockhart glanced up at Lily, his eyes still wild. In that moment she desperately wanted to put her hand on his shoulder. To give him support. She had to clench a fist at her side to keep from doing just that and showing the entire room emotions that were just as deep and dangerous as his fear.
Lily stepped away as Lord Pembrooke sat down on his wife’s other side. His face was lined with worry and confusion at this unexpected moment. “Why don’t I escort you upstairs, Louisa? I’ll have food brought up and you can rest a bit, I’m sure the crowd will understand.”
There were affirmative murmurs all around from the others. Lady Pembrooke rose with the help of her husband, only releasing her son’s hand when she was on her feet. Lord Pembrooke put an arm around her and as she insisted on saying her apologies, he guided her from the room.
The moment they were gone, Lockhart shook his head and strode from the room behind them, though he turned the opposite way from his parents. Lily’s lips parted at his sudden departure. He hadn’t even said a word to the others, despite all of them being family and dear friends. More than ever, she knew something very deep and dark was wrong here, and she felt more powerfully than before that she wanted to comfort him. Sheneededto do so.
“What wasthatabout?” Esme said, breaking the spell.
Clarissa was staring at the door where her aunt and uncle had gone and shook her head. “I’m not certain. Aunt Louisa is right, there is a great deal of excitement. Perhaps that’s all it is.”
Lily let out a shaky breath. “I-I have noticed her wobble a few times since my arrival.”
Clarissa’s lips parted with surprise. “Oh.”
“Lockhart looked sick with worry,” Lord Kirkwood said as he stepped up to Clarissa to take her hand briefly.
“Yes, he did,” Lily answered, even though the statement hadn’t been made toward her.
“Perhaps I should go after him,” Kirkwood said, and exchanged a meaningful look with his wife. “Try to get to the bottom of it.”
She nodded. “Would you? I think he needs a friend more than his cousin at present.”
“I’d say you are his friend, as well, love, but I’ll go. I’ll drag these two along with me.” He motioned to Ramsbury and Delacourt.
“With pleasure,” Ramsbury said. “I wonder if he went for a ride.”
“Or perhaps down to the lake?” Delacourt suggested as the three of them started from the parlor together.
As Clarissa, Marianne and Esme continued to talk together, Lily realized that Prudence and Alice weren’t in their group. She hadn’t expected her stepmother to join. She was at the sideboard pouring whisky in her tea and looked annoyed that the gathering had been interrupted. Of course she would. She had no ability to have compassion for others.
But Alice surprised Lily more, for she had a deep well of kindness under normal circumstances. Butshewas standing at the window, looking out with a pensive expression. Lily made her way to her sister.
