“Lord Watson and Mr. Ross to see Miss Lily Preston,” the butler intoned from the doorway.
Bradford abruptly stood. “I must take my leave or I might start kicking other gentlemen in the shins. It would be very undignified. You understand.”
Even as she nodded, Lily wanted to shriek,No, I don’t understand at all!
“We’ll discuss this further tomorrow.” He bowed and left.
Lily stared at Bradford until he disappeared through the archway, then tried to smooth her expression for the gentlemen it was her duty to greet.
Dear Winifred,
Besides Claire and William,you are the only one who knows my secret, and I fear that neither Claire nor William is best suited to being my confidante. You see, Lord Hayes has found me. Here, in London. I don’t know what to think. While he assures me that he means neither me or my sisters any harm, I’m sure that you can appreciate the depths of my fear.
If my transgressions would only affect me, I wouldn’t be nearly as frightened, but you know as well as I do what my exposure would mean, for all of us. I would never forgive myself if all of William’s efforts were for naught, if none of our sisters found good matches because of a foolhardy decision I made.
And even while I am scared of what might happen, I feel some relief, too. It is as if two halves of my person were joined at the seams the night Lord Hayes approached me at the ball. Claire and William have worked so hard not to speak of what I did, of what happened, that part of me believed it never had happened. But that part of my life is just as real and importantto me as any other. More, for I fell in love—not just with dear little Rebecca, but also the wilds of that northern country.
It’s true that it’s cold and rugged and remote, but it possesses a wild kind of enchantment. Only people and buildings who can weather hardship can survive there. There is a stalwart kind of beauty in that, don’t you think? Something far more sturdy and sound than any of our pristine parks in town, that’s for certain. I miss it. I miss her. And heaven help me, I’ve missedhim, too.
Sincerely,
Your sister, Lily
Lily rereadthe letter and found it far too revealing. She lay it flat like an offering upon the coals of her grate and watched her honest emotions curl and smoke into nothing. Then she turned back to her writing desk to try again, to write another letter to her sister in Paris, one with no mention of Lord Hayes at all.
CHAPTER 12-BRADFORD
Bradford carefully arranged his hair the next morning, stopping twice to throw down his comb and scowl at himself in the mirror.
What on earth was he doing?
It was the same question many people had levied at him with various levels of suspicion. Mrs. Clark hadn’t been suspicious at all when he told her business took him to town. Still, she had inquired after his trip. Mr. Thornton had asked—quite a bit more shrewdly—what Bradford intended to do once he’d found his erstwhile governess.
The lady herself had asked it most bluntly of all. Bradford hardly knew how to answer her.
Before he’d arrived in London, he told himself it was the principle of the thing that had drawn him there. He’d convinced himself that he was going to right some great wrong. After all, how could he let the fact that a stranger had been living in his house for four months go unanswered? Surely there should be some justice in the matter!
But on that sunny day when Bradford saw Lily picnicking in the park with her sisters, all pretense of justice and recompenseand every other bit of balderdash he’d told himself had flown out the window.
Lily had tossed back her head andlaughed. Had Bradford ever seen anything as beautiful? He’d grown up with the impressive landscape of Northumberland at his feet, and he’d never seen anything as finely formed as that tiny nose, those soft cheeks.
She’d never laughed with him before. Of course Bradford had heard her laughter, but only trailing down the hall from the nursery. The first time, he’d hurried toward the sound, lured inexorably as if it were a mythical siren song, only to have her glance up, wide-eyed, at where he stood in the doorway, as if she’d been caught doing something wrong. As if Bradford were there to punish her for her loss of decorum.
No,Bradford had wanted to say.Please, do it again.
But of course he hadn’t. He’d frowned and turned his back and walked stiffly from the room, berating himself for his interest in the first place.
No wonder Lily now looked at him with wide eyes of fear! No wonder she kept asking him why he was there!
Bradford could hardly tell her the truth—that he didn’t know why he’d been so driven to find her. But now, staring in the mirror, his hair somehow still toomuch, even though he’d trimmed it last week and pomaded it carefully, Bradford knew the real reason he’d come to London.
And it made him want to punch the dumb face staring back at him in the mirror.
“She isn’t going to want you,” he grumbled to himself. “Not when you only ever frowned at her. Not when you’re nigh on ten years older.”
But there was a small voice inside of him that whined its tiny, relentless hope:What if she might?
Then he could have her, to love and to cherish, to honor and to hold…
