It was just one of those mornings where a dozen little harmless things piled up and made one want to flounce, facedown, back into bed. Lily had stubbed her toe first thing, then spilled a bottle of perfume down her front and had to change. The dress was most likely ruined, and it was the only one she’d wanted to wear that day, as she thought it brought out the blue of her eyes.
None of her other dresses had pleased her after that, though they were all fine enough. Then her hair wouldn’t curl the way she wished it to—no matter what Mabel did with the tongs, Lily wasn’t satisfied with her reflection. Not that it was her maid’s fault. It was Lily’s own hair that was being uncooperative.
She frowned when she thought of the day ahead. Other than her walk with Bradford, there was little to look forward to. Perhaps other young ladies enjoyed being courted, but Lily wastired of asking gentlemen the same bland questions about the weather, their interests, and whether their family was well.
Add to that the fact that Lord Rigsby had visited these three days past, staying nearly as long as Bradford, and she thought she had good reason to dread the afternoon hours. Though in the last ballroom he’d split his attention between her and Beatrice, Lord Rigsby only sat on Lily’s side of the room in the parlor. He took whatever seat was open when he arrived, then looked for every opportunity to move closer and closer.
His ever-encroaching approach made her feel an impending sort of doom low in her stomach. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he had just been an unwanted guest—she had several other of those and had become quite accustomed to being polite even when she had no interest.
However, Lord Rigsby not only stared at her without blinking—he was also the loudest eater Lily had ever been in proximity to. She winced at the thought, even as she rounded the corner and saw Bradford waiting in the distance.
Lord Rigsby didn’t sip his tea, heslurpedit. He didn’t eat the biscuits, he nibbled them like a rabbit, then rapidly shaped them into some sort of pâté in his mouth before swallowing them down. And he did it all with his mouth open so that she could hear the entire sticky, smacking process.
By the time she reached Bradford, Lily was frowning.
“Good morning, Lily.” Bradford cocked his head. “Is something the matter?”
She yanked at one of her gloves. Why did nothing feel like it fit correctly today? Her entire ensemble constricted anditched. “I fear I’m quite out of sorts this morning.”
“If you’d rather, we could sit. Or we could get a hackney and go to the Clarendon for tea and biscuits.” Lily fairly glowered at him at the mention of biscuits; he held up his hands in surrenderand laughed. “Apologies, even though I’m not certain what I must apologize for.”
“It’s just—tea andbiscuits.” She shook her head.
“I didn’t know that was a delicate subject.”
“It isn’t.” She frowned down at the gravel for a moment. “Apologies. I’m in a sour mood. Perhaps I shouldn’t have come.”
“On the contrary, I think it an indicator of the closeness of our friendship that you didn’t cancel. I’m honored to partake of your sour mood.”
Lily knew he was only teasing to cheer her, but she frowned up at him. “Are we?” she said. “Are we close friends?”
“I certainly think so.”
Lily knew she was being ridiculous, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She said, “You say that you didn’t come to London to blackmail me, yet you pressured me to use your first name in front of people because we had a prior friendship.”
“You’re right. Perhaps that was wrong of me.”
Lily hardly heard him; she plowed forward. “And can it even be truly called a friendship, if one of the parties was initially paid to participate in all those conversations?”
“I don’t know. I suppose it depends.” He smiled and Lily saw the vulnerability in it. “It certainly felt like friendship to me, though you’re right—I shouldn’t presume to say what it meant to you. Our situations were vastly different at the time.”
Lily frowned at the ground and resisted the urge to scuff the toe of her elegant boot into the gravel.
Bradford studied her, then asked, “Doyouconsider us friends, Lily?”
Her anger fled her all at once and she gusted a sigh. “Of course we are.” She fiddled with the end of the ribbons trailing from her bonnet. “I’m simply confused, is all.”
“About what, precisely?”
“Why you’re truly here. I’ve answered all of your questions.”
“As I’ve told you the last few times you’ve asked, I’m here foryou, Lily.”
Lily clenched her hand into a fist and barely refrained from stamping her foot.“That’s no answer at all! What do you mean, you’re here for me? I believe that you’re not here to blackmail me, but does part of you still wish to punish me for what I did?”
“No, Lily.” Bradford turned to her fully, his dark eyes intense upon hers. “I’m here foryou.”
“You say that as if I should know what it means, but I don’t understand.”
