Though Lily had always prided herself over her mastery of her own feelings, she was very much aware that when she perceived an insult she was somewhat less of a paragon.
“If we were to play against one another,” she said boldly, “I imagine you would cease your disdain of England’s more bucolic locations.”
Lord Ashworth bristled at her declaration. “Indeed,” he said. “Then let us hope Lady Blakeley affords us the opportunity.”
Lily’s chin went up in utmost defiance. “Let us hope,” she said.
Chapter Three
Now that thechallenge of a game of piquet had been issued, Lily turned to her other neighbor, Mr. Simmons. He was an agreeable sort of gentleman who did not make too many inquiries into her circumstances. In truth, Mr. Simmons’ conversation was dull and she need only half attend him. It seemed he was a great reader—books of every sort, newspapers, broadsheets, old family letters, scientific treatises—no written word was to escape his notice. It also seemed that he was intent on communicatingallthat he had read.
As she listened to him drone on about the collapse in grain prices, Lily found herself conjecturing over her conversation with Lord Ashworth.
After her temper had settled, she began to see the foolishness of having thrown the piquet gauntlet at Lord Ashworth’s feet.
What had she been thinking? Of course, he was very wrong in his opinions. It hardly mattered where one learned the game of piquet—the rules were the rules. One either had a head for it, or one did not. It did not matter a whit if that head belonged to a lady or a gentleman. Further, there were those in Surrey who had been rather sharp and not that easy to prevail over. For all that, though, she began to very much wish she and Lord Ashworth had never landed on the subject of cards.
Throughout the dinner, she found she must turn to Lord Ashworth on occasion, else she look a fool by staring at the back of Mr. Simmons’ head. She found the lord stiff. She found herself stiff. It seemed neither of them wished to talk to the other and so they landed on such subjects as the weather and the soup. Lily had been vastly relieved when Lady Blakeley rose.
The ladies had retired to the drawing room and Lily held great hopes that the gentlemen would stay long over their port. After all, she knew perfectly well from dinners in Surrey, the gentlemen might land on a subject with varying opinions and air those opinions long into the night to the chagrin of their hostess. Politics was always a handy distraction, there had even been the dinner at Mr. Cahill’s that had devolved into a shouting match that could be heard throughout the house. Mr. Randolph and Mr. Braker had not spoken since and every hostess took pains to see they were never together again.
Before the gentlemen arrived, Cassandra had pulled Lily to the far side of the drawing room where they might pretend to examine a row of books on a shelf.
“I saw that Lord Ashworth took you in,” Cassandra said. “Of course, it could not be helped. I will only remind you that they have all vowed they will not marry.”
Lily had pulled some book or other from the shelf and pretended to flip through it. She laughed despite herself. “My dearest Cassandra, you have no cause to fear that my interest is in any way engaged. If anything, I believe Lord Ashworth finds me a bit silly and I findhima very much larger bit condescending.”
“Is that so?” Cassandra said in some surprise. “I would not have expected Lord Ashworth to be rude, but if he has, I should like to inform my husband of it.”
“Please do no such thing,” Lily said hurriedly. “The fault is half my own. We engaged in the most ridiculous conversation about cards.” Lily paused, not certain how to explain what must come next. “I believe,” she said slowly, “that he may challenge me to a game of piquet, as he is certain my skill will be found wanting.”
Cassandra was silent for some moments. “This is very strange, Lily. Why should Lord Ashworth wish to humiliate you in such a manner?”
“I expect because he thinks he will teach this country bumpkin a lesson,” Lily said. “I hinted at my skill and I do not suppose he believed it.”
“This is outrageous,” Cassandra said. “You are not to fear a scene, my friend. I will not allow such a thing to occur. Goodness, I would not have imagined Ashworth to be so petty, regardless of any words said between you.” She patted Lily’s hand. “I shall manage it.”
Lily did not answer one way or the other. On the one hand, she had no wish to make a spectacle of herself in any way. It had occurred to her that she might do so, in playing against Lord Ashworth. Would it not be more appropriate for her to take a turn on the pianoforte and leave the elders to their cards? Or, if she should play cards, would not whist seem more suitable? A wager between a lord of the pact and a girl just out might be talked of. She particularly feared it as Cassandra had just mentioned it asa scene.
On the other hand, she was fairly certain she could trounce the gentleman. After all, she had yet to meet with a person she could not triumph over, as long as the hands she was dealt were reasonable. Would it not be satisfying to put a stop to the lord’s condescension?
Before she could settle on a firm opinion, the gentlemen came in. It had been the shortest of delays. Lily quietly sighed. She had been foolish to think that Lord Blakeley would keep the gentlemen long over the cloth. Mr. Cahill might dare to displease his wife, but Lily doubted anybody would dare displease Lady Blakeley.
Lily pretended to scrutinize the book in her hand as she surreptitiously watched Cassandra in conversation with her husband. Lord Hampton seemed to laugh, and then be brought back to seriousness. He nodded to his wife and joined Lord Ashworth at the far side of the room.
Lily turned to Mr. Simmons who had promptly seated himself on her right. She realized he’d seen she held a book and had made his way over with alacrity, eager to discuss it. She felt rather foolish over it, as she had not even looked at the title when she picked it up and the subject of it was wartime commerce. She could not think of anything she would be less interested in understanding.
As Mr. Simmons waxed on about supply chains, Lily was certain that Lord Hampton was delivering his wife’s advice to Lord Ashworth—he was to give up any notion of a card game with Miss Farnsworth. It was just as well, it was her first evening out in town and she had no wish to put herself forward as anything unusual. She was fairly certain thatunusualin a lady was not a quality celebrated by theton.At least, her mother had often pointed out that if one wished to be eccentric, one had better be very old, have a lot of money, and hopefully a lofty title.
She glanced back to the other side of the room. Lily had expected that Lord Ashworth would heed Cassandra’s advice and only look condescendingly satisfied that his opinion had been right all along. She had not expected that he would make his way toward her to make comment on it, which appeared to be what he was doing.
“So you see, Miss Farnsworth,” Mr. Simmons went on gamely, “it is not only in battle that the game is won. If a force can successfully blockade another’s supplies, it can be ruinous. I’ve always said so, you know. We that understand such things can be vital contributors to any war effort.”
Lord Ashworth had arrived and waited for Mr. Simmons to complete his assessment. The lord did not look as impressed or interested as that gentleman might have hoped and Mr. Simmons trailed off on his lecture.
Lord Ashworth said, “I was devastated to understand that our looked-for card game has found disapproval with Lady Hampton.”
Lily did not answer. She did not trust herself to answer. The man was infuriating. Why could he not leave well enough alone? Rather, he must come to her with such condescension! Devastated, indeed.
