Lily fought to control her tears. She hadn’t thought this would be all that hard—she’d thought telling Rebecca she was leaving would be far more difficult than telling the girl’s father.
“There’s no need tocry,” he snapped. “Tears won’t get you out of explaining yourself. You can start by telling me your real name.”
Her voice wavered, barely balancing at the edge of tears when she said, “I’m sorry, my lord. I cannot.”
It was the one thing that William had demanded of her in his letter—that she was not, underanycircumstances, to reveal her true identity. To anyone.
Lord Hayes braced his forearms on the desk and exhaled derision through his nostrils. “I should have you arrested.”
Lily blanched. Her knees knocked, wavered, then locked.
Lord Hayes didn’t seem to notice. He shook his head. “And where am I to find a replacement? What about Rebecca? Have you thought abouther?”
Her tears threatened to catapult over her lower lashes. “I’ve thought of little else.”
“Do you have any idea the pain your leaving will cost her? You are more a mother to her than her own ever was.” He clamped his mouth shut after the last as if he hadn’t meant to say it.
“I don’t wish to leave her.”
“Then don’t,” he said. “It’s as simple as that. You should stay.”
“I cannot disappoint my brother.”
“Why does he require your presence more than we do?”
Lily thought that it would do little good to explain the full circumstances to Lord Hayes, that William had returned from India wealthy beyond measure, and now Lily and her seven sisters were to be presented—in slightly less-shocking batches of four—so that they might have a Season and find good noblemen to marry.
It sounded like a fanciful dream—something made up—even to her, and she was the one who’d be living it.
Her silence only served to deepen Lord Hayes’s frown, to turn his expression into something truly ominous.
“No. I forbid it,” Lord Hayes finally said.
He sent the letter sliding back at her across the polished surface. On instinct, she caught it before it hit the ground.
Lily’s eyes went wide. “Excuse me, my lord?”
“You are not excused. In fact, you’re not permitted to leave the grounds. Not until you tell me who you truly are.” He lowered his gaze to his ledgers and picked up his pen.
Lily stood frozen in fear, the letter of resignation clenched in her hands. When it became clear that Lord Hayes would say nothing further, she turned and let herself out of his study, closing the door behind her.
She stood in the hall stupidly for long moments, their interaction rolling through her mind.
I should have you arrested.
The thought sent Lily running for the stairs. That was undoubtedly what the man intended to do. Why else would he command her not to leave?
If he called for a magistrate, she would be questioned. She would have to tell them the truth, under the burden of the law. Even though she’d undoubtedly be acquitted were there a trial—she was nobility and she’d done nothingtrulywrong—a trial would be public.Her name, and her family’s name, would be dragged through that special mud unique to a full-blown scandal.
There would be no point to any of the Preston ladies having a Season after that—not when it was discovered that Lily had been living under the same roof as an unmarried gentleman for four months. Thetonhad everything—money, prestige, a life of essential leisure—but the one thing that they valued above all else, the one thing that was uniquely precious in their rarified world, was gossip.
And there was nothing quite as delicious to the gossips as a young lady gone astray.
It hardly mattered that Lord Hayes hadn’t so much as smiled at Lily. Everyone would leap to the most salacious scenarios. Her reputation would be ruined, and all her sisters’ reputationsalong with it. And not even all the gold in England—which Claire claimed William had—could shield them from the censure.
Lily scampered up the stairs, using the balustrade to pull herself upward. Thankfully, she didn’t see a single other servant, or they would have known something was terribly wrong. Lily’s eyes were wide, her breath coming in pants by the time she made it to the small bedchamber attached to the nursery.
Rebecca was only five—she would be moved to one of the grand family bedchambers on her birthday the following month. It was nearly all the little girl could speak of, and Lily’s heart clenched that she wouldn’t be there to witness her joy on that momentous occasion.
