Lillian’s tea was empty, and she craved more. She turned to leave.
“I-I,” Lady Abigail stuttered, “I could not.”
“You could. And well. Just start small.”
“How?”
Lillian tapped her lip. “The next time you attend a gathering, save the book for the ride here and the ride home.” She patted her reticule. “I always have one on me as well. But you are bound to be overlooked if you are not looking out into the world yourself.”
“So, all I have to do is look up?”
“Yes. Then allow others to look at you.” Lillian grinned, turned, and looked at the girl over her shoulder. “I dare you.”
It was time to return to Littleton. She strolled away from the box hedge and went in pursuit.
Of another cup of tea.
Just what she needed to strengthen her through another bout of difficult conversation with the viscount. She tried not to think of what life would be like married to someone she could not feel comfortable around. Flashes of that life broke through, anyway, in weak moments—awkward breakfasts and even more awkward bedtimes. Hopefully, they would keep separate bedrooms. She’d heard thetonpracticed such arrangements, though her parents and her friends did not.
Jane and Tabitha were in love with their husbands, and Lillian would not be. Circumstances, and so, expectations differed. Lillian did not need love. She needed respectability.
“Ahem.”
Lillian spun around.
A tall, hook-nosed man with graying brown hair and gray eyes peered down at her, his arms folded behind his back. “Miss Clarke, yes?”
Lillian curtsied and rose with a smile. “You are the Earl of Needleham. I am acquainted with your daughter, Lady Abigail. She is a lovely girl, my lord.”
“She is a proper lady, Miss Clarke.”
Lillian resisted the urge to tug on her earlobe. “Err, yes, of course she is.”
“She must keep proper, acceptable acquaintances.”
Lillian now saw the thrust of the conversation quite clearly. “I agree. You are such an attentive father.”
“I will be direct, Miss Clarke.”
“As someone from the lower classes, I do appreciate it. My wit and discernment are not what they should be, of course. As well, I am nothing if not lacking in subtlety and elegance. We all are.”
He nodded, accepting her words as truth instead of sarcasm.
She felt stabby again.
“I do not deny your family is on the rise. I hear your father is close to earning a title.” He said the wordearningwith a wrinkle of his nose and sneer, as if it were an actual chamber pot he had been tasked with emptying. “Rumor is Lord Littleton will ask for your hand.” He shook his head. “Young men can be very fools in these matters. If he does, your status as a viscountess will make you less disposable than you are now.”
Lillian dropped her gaze to her gown, her slippers, her arms. “I do not appear disposable now, my lord.”
“You take my meaning.” He narrowed his eyes and peered into her face. “Don’t you?”
She raised an eyebrow, imitating Tabitha’s duchess persona. “I take your meaning.”
He straightened. “Good. I see no reason for you and my daughter not to speak, on occasion, when absolutely necessary. Do not take the association further than idle chitchat, Miss Clarke.” He recrossed his arms behind his back and marched away.
Lillian took two cups of tea, one per hand, to keep from slapping the man. She walked sedately to Littleton’s side, exactly where she’d left him, and handed him one of the cups.
“Thank you,” he said, taking it. “Did you find your acquaintance?”
