Wild Lily (Those Notorious Americans Book 1)(12)

“Chelton has a friend who’s a laborer? Yet he offered you his own carriage?” He arched his brows high. “Damn intriguing.”

“No, sir,” Marianne objected.

Lily caught her eye and shook her head in warning.

But Marianne missed her cue. “He’s a duke.”

Oh, lord.

“That is intriguing,” Hanniford replied with gusto.

Lily rolled her eyes at Marianne who had not been intrigued with Remy, the Frenchman. No, not by a long shot. If there were a word for Marianne’s reaction to Remy, it was mesmerized.

Marianne, flustered, shot from her chair at once, then came around the table and hooked her arm in Lily’s. “Escape with me.”

“Tell him no more,” Lily pleaded as the two of them hurried from the dining room.

“I heard that!” he called out, but they took the circular staircase up to their suites. “I need details.”

“We’ve no time, Uncle.”

“We don’t want to be late, Papa,” Lily said, laughing in their haste.

“We don’t want to change the fashion.” He came to the foot of the stairs.

Lily took hold of the hall banister and peered over the side. “Not on your life. It’s de Bourg’s small soirée. Then the opera, dear Father. And for that, you’ve paid good money.”

“I have not paid a penny. We’re guests!”

“All the more reason. Get dressed yourself,” she told him, sailing off to shut the door to Marianne’s sitting room.

She faced her cousin, shaking a finger at her. “You realize that now he knows Remy is a duke, Papa will investigate his family all the way back to the dark ages.”

“He can do what he wants,” she said. “I’ll not have another husband, ever.”

Marianne’s vehemence about the subject of taking a husband was a mystery that no amount of cajoling could influence her to reveal. But Lily had seen her cousin’s interest in the impressive French nobleman. Never before had Marianne shown any attraction to a man. And her recent declarations that she would consider taking a lover sparked the possibility that, given a chance, this Remy might fill that need for her.

Her cousin strode to her dressing room, turning her back on Lily, thereby hiding her expression. “Besides, I most likely won’t see him again.”

“And if you do?” Lily was quick to ask.

“It won’t matter. Your father cannot persuade me to receive him.”

“Or buy him for you?”

Marianne whirled to face her, her brows knit. “No. Not at any price.”





“Remy is late.” Julian’s mother dropped her lorgnette on its gold chain to her chest and peered at him as if it were his fault Remy had not appeared on time. To irritate him, she always criticized the Frenchman over any trifle. A stickler for rules, she might be. But she hid behind them, as she did most strictures, for her own devices. This she used to needle him with his choice of his very unconventional friend. “We cannot wait longer or we shall miss my favorite aria.”

Julian glanced about at those chatting in the rotunda of the new Paris Garnier Opera house. These were the season’s ticketholders, men clad in tuxedoes and top hats, the ladies wrapped in diamonds, feathers and silks. He had greeted those he knew, and those whose financial interests were similar to his. “I’ll escort you up to our box, if you wish, Mama.”

“I do.”

Julian was in no mood to argue with her. His head still clanged from his outing last night and this morning’s accident. The surprise of his preoccupation with the Hanniford girl added to his discomfort. No amount of rest had rid him of the obsession with her pale blue eyes. Plus, the brief but bitter meeting this afternoon with his French partner in Cardiff Shipping had not improved his attitude toward her or her father. Tonight, he’d agreed to attend this opera only because his sister wished his escort. God knew, he did not favor an evening in his mother’s company. He had quite enough of her at home. But he wished to please his young sister who adored the dramatic doings of operas. He offered one arm to his mother and the other to Elanna. “Shall we?”

Elanna put her hand to his sleeve. Her hazel eyes twinkled in the light from the huge cut glass chandeliers. Dressed in a glistening gown of pink chiffon, she sparkled against the gold and rose of the marble walls. “You are good. I know you prefer Remy’s company.”

“Well, now.” Julian smiled at her. She was such a good-natured girl, pretty with an abundance of rosewood-brown hair and porcelain skin, all of nineteen, finished with her first Season and without a suitor in sight. That pleased him. She was too sweet to shackle at so young an age. If he could continue to win sizable sums at the tables—or better yet find a suitable investor for the shipping firm—he’d help her remain single for years to come. No respectable but pitiless union for her if he could help it. “I like yours.”

“Of course, he does, Elanna.” His mother had to have her say. “He prefers yours to many a girls’. I wish he could say he adored other feminine companions less.”

“Now, Mama,” Elanna scolded their mother as they walked up the gilded side steps of the cavernous Garnier headed for the huge rose marble staircase. “Don’t quarrel with Chelton again. I won’t attract a man if I’m scowling at you both.”