“I usually do, but it’s a well-ingrained habit to call you Lord Hayes. When I call you anything else, I fear that Mrs. Clark will suddenly appear and click her keys at me.”
“What?” He grinned.
“It’s what she does when one of the staff displeases her. When she’s angry, she reaches into her pocket and fiddles with her keys.”
“You’re too perceptive for your own good.”
Even while dancing, she managed a graceful little shrug. “People are always inadvertently telling you things they don’t really want you to know. It’s only that most people don’t know how to notice them properly.”
Bradford was seized by two strong ideas all at once. The first was to gather Lily to his chest and spirit her from the dance floor before the investigator Mr. Thornton caught wind of what an asset she could be to his business.
The second was a much more alarming notion—what had he accidentally told Lily Preston that he didn’t yet want her to know?
CHAPTER 18- LILY
Several weeks passed, and the crowd in the front parlor swelled like a pond after a heavy rain. Her sister Claire had all but abandoned the room—her suitors were an especially nervous sort. However, Claire’s absence was hardly felt at all—the empty space was soon swallowed by the overflow of men who visited the other Preston sisters.
It didn’t seem to help that the front parlor was as large as a small ballroom. There were two large seating areas, and Lily had taken to occupying one of them, as she had the most visitors by far.
Unfortunately, this put her back to the other side of the room, and Lily could barely keep track of Margaret and Beatrice within the crush. Only the regular deliveries of tea and the careful, watchful eyes of the footmen comforted her that the other Preston ladies were, in fact, still safe and in attendance.
Lily had tried, several times, to ask her sisters how their courting was going, but all three of them were remarkably cagey about their prospects, even when pressed. The breakfast table took on a new undercurrent of secrecy that Lily had never quite experienced before.
Once she reflected upon it, it made sense. After all, she hardly wanted to admit what was happening within her own heart. She supposed it was only natural that her sisters would want their privacy, too, when it came to such delicate matters.
And the truth was a disturbing one, at least to Lily. No matter how many gentlemen strode through the door, no matter how accomplished or wealthy or handsome she could objectively see they were, none of them had caught her attention the way Bradford had.
She’d tried telling herself that it was because he knew her secret, that he could reveal it at any moment. Yet he had assured her that he meant her and her sisters no harm, and she knew he wasn’t a liar.
The truth of the matter was, he was just sodifferentfrom the other men who visited. The other suitors pressed forward until they nearly brushed her skirts in their bid for attention. Bradford was patient, seemingly content to let every other gentleman speak with her before taking his turn. He only added to the conversation when he was directly addressed, but her heart hitched every time he spoke in that calm, low timbre of his.
And the man had somehow figured out her quirk about not liking crowds. Or perhaps it wasn’tpreciselythat, as the parlor was full and Lily managed fine as long as she could see an exit at all times. If she couldn’t, however, her breath grew short and her head started to swim. Bradford was forever telling people to sit down or shove over. It wasn’t all that polite sometimes, especially when the other gentlemen were jockeying for position, but it was effective.
Bradford reminded her of a great Irish wolfhound amongst a passel of puppies. The hound showed great forbearance at the antics of the pups, but every once in awhile, he pried open one eye and gave a warning growl to put them back in line.
One day, Lily was certain that Bradford hadn’t been paying any attention whatsoever to the inane conversation about silk production in India—a conversation that was taking place moreoverher than including her.
Bradford suddenly turned to Mr. Gerald and said, “Ah, I feel we can now be friends where before that would have been an impossibility. You see, I thought you were here to court Lily. What a relief to find that you’re far more interested in Lord Cavendish’s holdings than you are in her.”
She knew that she couldn’t laugh at the shocked expression on Mr. Gerald’s face. Such a thing would have been poor manners as hostess. Still, she was grateful for Bradford’s intervention—Lily had no idea precisely how many ships William owned, nor whether he was interested in diversifying his ballast on the next shipment. She was even more grateful when Mr. Gerald got up and left.
And hadn’t there been a hint of flirtation in Bradford’s words, as well? Some kind of proprietary intimation that made Lily’s heart beat an irregular rhythm until another gentleman started—quite predictably—speaking about the new play at the theater?
The sweet suspicion which curled through her midsection like perfumed smoke was squashed a quarter hour later when Bradford once more unexpectedly inserted himself into the conversation.
“I wouldn’t say Lily plays the pianowell,” he said with a thoughtful tilt to his head. “But her enthusiasm is unmistakeable.”
He held his full teacup aloft in a sort of mocking salute; Lily had to stifle the sudden urge to slap it into his lap.
But it was fine that Bradford didn’t constantly feel the need to wedge himself into the conversation—he and Lily had made a daily habit of walking together in the park early in the morning.There they spoke of all sorts of things—the plays they’d seen, which they both had enjoyed—as well as a survey of all the subjects they’d spoken of in Northumberland.
This might have felt tedious to some, but Lily enjoyed it immensely, as now she’d promised to be completely honest. Speaking to Bradford back then had felt much like picking her way across thin ice. Now, she felt that she could skate across the ice with wild abandon.
“My piano playing is more than adequate,” she said by way of greeting the following morning.
Bradford tipped his head back and laughed. When he recovered, he said, “I should have known that one wouldn’t be forgotten. I couldn’t help myself—it’s the only thing you don’t excel at.”
Lily pursed her lips to keep from smiling. “I’ll have you know that I can play two songs almost all the way through.”
