He’d do whatever it took to maintain her spotless reputation, so she could help her wallflowers. And he’d find a way to earn Frederick’s with his own muscle and wit.
He gathered her into his arms and kissed her awake. She didn’t use words to say good morning, but she used her lips all the same. With her soft body pressed against his, he could not form another coherent thought, let alone complex cognitions about machines and making the most of them. Lillian was every word, every touch, every breath, and in this primal moment, every beat of his heart, too.
CHAPTER19
Lillian thought she had become used to the whispers that seemed to follow her about. But a week of marriage had not stilled them, and the ones bouncing about her this evening seemed to carry a different tenor. They carried the energy of excitement of anewrumor. Surely then, they could not be leveled ather. What had she done recently but what was proper and right? None of her acquaintances were guilty of any misstep. She was certain! She, Tabitha, and Jane had lived remarkably calm and scandal-free lives for months, with the exception, of course, of her own hasty marriage.
Devon had tried to prolong the engagement, but riding a wave of (why deny it?) lust, Lillian had refused, and frankly she’d not regretted the decision.
“Are you attending, Miss Clarke?” An elegant, gloved hand passed furiously before Lillian’s face.
Lillian blinked. “Oh. Iamsorry, Abigail. I’m afraid I was not attending at all.”
“Lady Georgiana thinks,” Abigail said in a tone that clearly noted she was repeating herself, “that I should seek entrance into Lord Waterford’s circle. He is apparently currently corresponding with Southey. Can youimagine? Southey! The Poet Laureate.” She almost swooned. “And he isquiteegalitarian in his ideas.”
“Southey or Lord Waterford?” Lillian asked.
“Lady Georgiana says he accepts women into his circle quite readily,” Abigail said.
If only she’d say who “he” was. Waterford likely.
Tall, terrifyingly elegant, and dark of eye and hair, Lady Georgiana focused a sharp gaze on Abigail, and she punctuated the younger girl’s words with decisive nods. She clasped her elbows before her, squaring her body into corners and lines. “The women in his circle are an opinionated lot, and he values their opinions.”
“Doesn’t value you, Georgie, does he?” Lord Adam said gruffly.
Lord Adam was Devon’s friend and the solution to Lillian’s problem. The tall, lanky man with muddy hair and a wandering brown-eyed gaze had approached her hours earlier, Lady Georgiana in tow, at Devon’s request. Lord Adam did not run in bluestocking circles, as he’d called them, but he knew someone who did. He peered at her now, off and on, his eyes flicking to her form, then away again.
He elbowed Lady Georgiana. “You’ve the bluest stockings of any woman I know, so why aren’t you one of his set?”
Lady Georgina smoothed her skirt and smiled, then clasped her elbows again, presenting a serene, placid picture. “I do not wish to be, Adam. What of it?”
Lord Adam squirmed under the inquisition of her single arched eyebrow. “Don’t skewer me like that, Georgie. I don’t know why Devon thought of me for this little whatever it is. I’m not an intellectual.”
Lady Georgiana laughed and shook her head.
Lord Adam glared.
Lillian must be missing something.
Abigail looked perplexed as well.
So, Lillian took control of the conversation. “But you know Lady Georgiana, so Devon knew the right thing to do, after all. And Lord Waterford sounds promising. I’m not one of the intellectual sets either, so it’s a better lead than anything I could provide. Thank you, my lady.”
Lady Georgiana inclined her head and popped open her fan, but her movements were brisk instead of flirtatious.
“Where is your husband tonight?” Lord Adam asked Lillian.
“Oh.” Lillian's heart pinged. “He is not.” She did not know where he was.
“Saw him in the Oakley’s card room last night,” Lord Adam said. “Thought he might come tonight, too. He’s always good for a gamble.”
So that’s where he’d slunk off to last night. Not surprising, he’d be laying his heart on the table among the gambling counters, trying his best to secure Freddy’s. She merely wished he’d told her. Only two weeks remained until Freddy sold it to the highest bidder, and unless something changed, that would not be Devon. As far as she knew, anyway. He’d been awfully close-lipped about his progress toward that end of late. Anytime she inquired about it, he kissed her, and when he kissed her, she forgot how to use words.
Disconcerting, that, considering words were one of her favorite things.
“Where is this Lord Waterford?” Lillian scanned the ballroom as if simply knowing his name would outline the man in glowing yellow.
Lady Georgiana went up on tiptoe and craned her neck. After a moment’s perusal of the crowd, she said, “Over there by the ferns.”
