His Lordship's True Lady (True Gentlemen #4)(48)
And those suspicions would remain beyond Lily’s reach, unless Daisy took up residence with Mrs. Braithwaite. Mama had never mentioned who Lily’s papa might be, only that the law prevented a union between Lily’s parents.
“I have no proof anything you say is true, Mrs. Braithwaite. Not a glimpse of a letter, not a shred of gossip ever to corroborate your wild stories. I very much doubt I would have gone my whole life with a younger sister about whom I know nothing.”
She had gone her first five years without meeting Annie.
“You’re wise to doubt my claims,” Mrs. Braithwaite replied, picking up her drink. “Ask your uncle. Ask the elderly aunts gracing every family tree, the pensioned governesses and former tutors. They know all the best scandals. I’ll pay a call on you next week and bring you a sample of your mother’s correspondence. In the meanwhile, do your best to insinuate yourself into Grampion’s good graces. He’s reserved to the point of coldness, but I’ve yet to meet the man who couldn’t be charmed by a pretty young lady with a fortune.”
She swanned off, leaving Lily’s world in tatters.
For more than a decade, Lily had succeeded in convincing the world she was Mama’s legitimate eldest daughter. In five minutes, Roberta Braithwaite had traded on that fiction to threaten the rest of Lily’s life.
“Thought the damned creature would never leave you alone,” Uncle Walter said, wineglass in hand. “You’re looking a bit pale, Lily. Too much galloping about in the park at all hours.”
That was the first indication he’d given that her dawn ride had come to his attention. “My mare wants conditioning. You know Mrs. Braithwaite?”
He took a sip of his wine, keeping the lady in view over the rim of his glass. “She was an acquaintance of your mother’s, and I do appreciate a healthy figure on a woman. Nonetheless, Nadine’s taste in friends was no more refined than her other inclinations. Let’s leave, before some fool begs an encore from the musicians.”
Lily spared Hessian not so much as a wave—not when her every move was observed by both a fan-wielding tool of the fiend and Uncle Walter.
By dawn on Saturday, Lily needed a plan that would protect Mama’s past from becoming public, protect Daisy from her aunt, preserve Grampion’s respect for Lily, and keep Uncle from suspecting trouble was afoot.
For the first time, Lily understood why her older half-sister, at the age of seventeen, had turned up her nose at propriety and reason, and eloped with Uncle Walter’s house steward.
*
Hessian had used his morning to meet with his solicitor, for updating a will was something best done sooner rather than later. On the walk back to his town house, he missed Daisy skipping at his side, missed her chatter, her questions.
Why do trees lose their leaves, but not their pine needles?
Where do different kinds of birds come from?
Does London always stink on rainy days?
Were you friends with my mama, or only neighbors?
That last question had required some delicacy. Lady Evers had been a woman frustrated by a cordial marriage to a much older man, and Hessian, at a loss for how to deter a female bent on seduction, had been lonely too.
Most peculiar of all, Lord Evers had more or less expressed gratitude for Hessian’s friendship with Belinda.
Then her ladyship’s interest in dallying had ceased—or she’d given up on dallying with Hessian—and in less than a year, Daisy had arrived. Hessian had never known—and still didn’t know for sure—whether a casual affair had rekindled her ladyship’s sense of marital loyalty, or whether…
His steps took him past a shop that sold items for babies and young children. Daisy would delight in such an emporium, so he changed course for purposes of reconnaissance. Then too, he had nieces, and Daisy had brothers.
And what waited for him at home, besides correspondence, ledgers, and the domestic upheaval of having sacked a drill sergeant from his staff?
The shop owner had arranged the inventory to resemble a marvelously well-stocked nursery, and the whole place bore the scent of lavender, much as a nursery might. Fanciful animals sewn of cloth, embroidered blankets just the size for swaddling an infant, rattles, storybooks, a pair of hobbyhorses, and art supplies of every description filled the place.
And in the middle of this cave of wonders stood Lily Ferguson, the most delightful treasure of all.
“Miss Ferguson.”
She held a stuffed horse, a velvet bay with black yarn for its mane and tail. “My lord. This is a surprise.”
The shop girl watched the exchange, so Hessian offered a proper bow. “A fortuitous encounter for me. Perhaps you’ll advise me regarding suitable gifts for Daisy and her brothers?”
They left the shop thirty minutes later with God only knew what—a herd of stuffed horses, or stuffed bears, possibly some storybooks, and an armada of miniature sailing ships. Hessian sent Lily’s maid and footman home with her purchases and appointed himself her escort.
“I was hoping to linger a while longer at the shop,” Lily said. “Uncle is in a mood today.”
“Perhaps he was frustrated with my attention to the musicians last night. I hope you didn’t feel neglected.” Maybe that explained Lily’s less-than-pleased reception of Hessian this morning? He hadn’t wanted to single her out before a half-dozen gossips, and then the damned musicians had gone off on some flight about Herr Beethoven, orchestration, and English music publishers.