“Why must I stop using your first name?” he repeated gently, when it was clear she’d gone mute.
Her eyes flew to his. She was surprised to find him smiling at her again—one of his rarerealsmiles. She felt that she was collecting them, one by one. He’d never smiled at her in her months as governess, and now he’d given her five smiles in only two meetings.
“Because,” she said lamely, studying the flecks of deep gold hidden within the brown of his eyes. They were partly amber, she was shocked to realize.
“Because why?” he asked patiently.
It was one of the things she’d always respected about him—his patience. As his daughter’s governess, Lily had ample chances to see him display rash anger or impulsive, casual cruelty. He never had, not once.
Not when Rebecca had dumped not one buttwocups of tea down his front while he was holding her. Not when the dogs had muddied the kitchen garden and romped through the main hall with mud caked to their haunches. Not when the laundress had turned all his whites a little grey because she hadn’t seen the new black handkerchief in the wash…
“Why, Lily? Why must I stop using your first name?” His tone was deeper, darker than it had been a moment before. It was rich like chocolate, and it jarred her attention back to theirconversation. She realized she’d been staring at him like an imbecile. Again.
Heavens, she hoped he’d been too busy doctoring his own tea to notice.
She cleared her throat and soldiered onward. “Because other gentlemen will think we have some sort of a relationship.”
“Don’t we?” He cocked his head.
“Well, yes, but?—”
“Of all the gentlemen who’ve paraded through your front door so far, of all the ones who undoubtedlywill,” he said, sounding a bit disgruntled. Some small part of Lily was pleased at his tone, but she shoved that odd emotion down and did her best to focus as he said, “You know me far better than any of them, and I certainly know you better than they do. Isn’t that true?”
“Well, yes, but?—”
“Do not forget that we shared a dinner table together every night for months. And though I uncharitably suspected as much when I first discovered your duplicity, I don’t believe you’re a liar at heart. Are you, Lily?”
“No,” she said.
It had been the worst part of all of it—lying to him.
Lying to Rebecca was easy. She was a young child—even if Lily had told her the truth, it wouldn’t have mattered to her. Lying to the other staff was a bit more difficult, especially when Lily thought of how she’d taken the position from someone who needed it. Until she remembered that she and her sisters were in dire straits, indeed.
But lying to Lord Hayes had been torment.
“I didn’t like lying,” she murmured, her eyes scanning the room to make sure no one was watching or listening. They were all too far away, too engrossed in the business of courting to notethe serious conversation taking place between her and Bradford. “I did it as little as possible. I only lied about my name.”
“Which is why I feel comfortable calling you by your given name and I insist you do the same. We’re very close to friends, if not friends already.”
That statement was too much to comprehend at the moment, so Lily chose to ignore it.
“But why are you here?” she asked, a tinge of desperation in her voice.
“I told you Lily, I came here for you. And though we are something like friends, rebuilding the trust between us will certainly take time.”
Lily frowned. She was surprised that Bradford would take any amount of time away from Rebecca for such an endeavor, even more surprised that it sounded as if he intended to remain in London for the foreseeable future.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I suppose I don’t understand what you hope to gain from being here,” she said honestly.
“Wouldn’t you be curious, if you found out you’d been lied to for months, that the person helping to raise your daughter wasn’t at all who they’d led you to believe?”
“Yes,” she said slowly. “Though I don’t understand why you thought it worth it to travel all the way to London to speak with me if you don’t want restitution of some sort.”
“Idoseek restitution.”
Her forehead creased; she opened her mouth to ask, even as her mind worked at formulating the question.
