Because the viscount, Lord Littleton, was courting her.
She smiled.
She planned.
And when the carriage rocked to a stop, the irritation Lord Devon had exploded to life inside her had settled, though not entirely dissipated. It seemed ever ready to flare to life once more, vigilant just beneath her skin.
Lady Stubbins’ ball was a complete crush, but when Lillian entered and the footman called her name, heads turned.
She felt a fleeting impulse to run, to duck her head, to murmur her excuses, and escape to some shadowy, solitary corner. She swallowed it down and gave the onlookers her brightest smile. Not her most real, but no one wanted that one, anyway.
Her suitors appeared at her side as if they’d popped into existence only upon her arrival. She greeted them and scanned the crowd, looking for Lord Littleton. They chatted about her, but still she looked, nodding at that one or the other as it seemed appropriate. They did not need much of her attention.
“Lil!” Jane, the new Countess of Abbington, raised a hand high in the air, gaining Lillian’s attention. Her eyes sparkled, and beside her Tabitha, the Duchess of Collingford, bustled through the crowd, bright red hair a beacon for anyone who wished to know her location. Easy to spot, Tabitha was, even if Jane wasn’t waving merrily for all to see. Her friends had grown more confident, happier, in the months since the end of the previous season. Happy marriages would do that, apparently.
When they reached the edges of the group surrounding Lillian, Tabitha raised a single brow, cleared her throat, and put on her best duchess look, all fire and ice, terrifying if the scattering gentlemen were any indication. They backed away with low bows and apologies and promises to seek Lillian out later.
“Excellent,” Jane said, threading her arm through Lillian’s, “they’re gone. Thank you, Tabitha. You really are useful these days.” Her thick dark hair threatened to overwhelm the pins that strove to hold it in place, and her brown eyes met Lillian’s with curiosity.
Tabitha grinned. “Just call me the Demon Duchess, terrorizer of silly suitors everywhere.”
“They’re not silly,” Lillian objected. “They’re ardent. Ardent emotions should not be disparaged. And they do not care about my lack of pedigree. They would marry an inventor’s daughter if that inventor’s daughter would have them.”
“True,” Jane said. “That is admirable.”
Tabitha narrowed her eyes, and Lillian knew the duchess was about to say something contrary. “One must also point out, however, that the inventor is not just any man. He is a famous, Prince Regent-approved man. And his apprentice is a duke’s brother.”
Why must Tabitha mention Lord Devon? Could Lillian never escape the man?
Jane squeezed Lillian’s arm. “Oh yes. Do tell, Lil. How is Lord Devon doing with his inventions? What is he building again?”
“I’ve no idea. I’ve not asked.”
“Madness!” Jane exclaimed.
“I’ve asked,” Tabitha grumbled, “and he won’t tell me. I’m his sister-in-law! He should show loyalty to family.”
Jane’s lips twisted, and her eyes grew distant. “I’m glad that he’s improved from Christmas. I’d never seen him in such a state before. Smelled of liquor morning, noon, and night. The apprenticeship suits him. Gives him purpose.”
Jane had the right of it. Lillian had hated seeing him destroy himself. She’d said as much to him in her letter. She flinched, thinking again she should never have given it to him.
But it had worked, hadn’t it? Lord Devon had stopped drinking and taken up inventing.
If only he’d taken up inventing in someone else’s house. “Can we not discuss Lord Devon.” Lillian tried to keep the note of pleading from her voice.
“Sorry,” Tabitha and Jane said together.
“You no longer have feelings for him, though,” Jane said.
Lillian shook her head. “I do not like to speak of him.”
“Shall we speak of Lord Littleton, then?” Tabitha asked.
Lord Littleton. A soft man. Soft spoken, soft brown eyes, brown hair that looked soft, though she’d never dare to touch it. He would make a comfortable husband, and his title and soft, proper manners would ensure she retained her hard-won social position. It would make up for her birth, her unsuccessful first season.
It would allow her to help the others.
Lillian tilted her head to the side. “What would you like to say about Lord Littleton?”
