“What is it?” he asked.
“I need ye to watch over Adaline. I’ve tried, but she is clever and refuses to listen to me about the dangers of unscrupulous men. She flees her chaperone at balls and most assuredly avoids me. Ye are the only one who can control her with yer father gone. I’ve no notion why ye are refusing to go to this ball, but ye must put yer sister’s welfare above yer feelings.”
And if I do this, will you finally forgive me?
He didn’t ask it, though he wanted to. For one, he’d do anything for his sister, whether it meant his mother could finally forgive him or not. But the other reason was he was quite sure he would not want to hear how she answered the question. Sometimes it was better not to know how someone might answer a question. Like the one he’d replayed in his head a mind-numbing number of times in which he confessed to Lilias that he’d kissed the girl he knew his brother liked and that he’d not allowed Owen to pull ahead of him in the race because Nash had been too busy trying to impress her himself:What do you think of me now, Lilias?He’d never ask the question; he didn’t want to know the answer.
“Will ye attend the ball or not, Greybourne?” His mother’s lips pressed together in a line of annoyance.
Greybourne.His title. NeverNash, the name she’d given him. Always cold. But he owed her for what he’d done to Thomas.
“I’ll go,” he said with a sigh. He’d simply have to stay away from Lilias. Of course, that could be difficult if he encountered her with Owen. If that occurred, he’d be pleasantly cool. He looked at his mother. He’d learned from the best.
“If Mama saw you in that gown, she’d have fit,” Nora said, pursing her lips at Lilias.
Nora was correct, but her mother was abed with another deep melancholy. It was the third time this month that Mama’s sadness had been so great that she’d told Lilias to attend a ball without her. Her only parting motherly advice had been to “please secure a husband.”
Lilias eyed herself in the crimson gown she’d borrowed from Guinevere. It was cut daringly low, and the rich color of the silk would make her stand out. It was perfect. This was the new her. A woman who was no longer a fool, who no longer believed if she loved Nash enough, he’d love her in return. He was not some hero from one of her books. He would never protect her and cherish her, and she would forget him. But before she really strove to do that, just once she wanted him to see her, to desire her, to perhaps even question what he might have let slip through his fingers.
After tonight, she would be good. She would follow the rules of Society and find a proper husband to ease her mother’s burdens and to set a good course for her sister’s future. She’d been selfish long enough.
“Lilias, did you hear me?” Nora demanded.
Lilias took one more look at her hair before answering her sister. It was down and in slight disarray. She patted it, but it was fairly hopeless. She had no skill with putting up her hair, and they could no longer afford a lady’s maid, not that the one they’d formerly employed had been any good with hair, either. Finally, she turned to Nora. “I hear you. Mama won’t see me. She’s abed.”
Nora gave Lilias an exasperated look. “I said, what are you going to offer me for keeping this—” she motioned to Lilias’s attire “—a secret.”
“I’m out of trinkets to give you, Nora.” Lilias’s escapades at the Cotswolds had cost her nearly all her things, including her ribbons and lace.
Nora grinned. “You should behave, then. I’ll take a ride in Owen’s coach in the park,” she said, eyes twinkling. “At the fashionable hour.”
Lilias scowled at her sister. “Your lust to be part of the fashionable set is going to cause you heartache when you make your debut.” That pretentious lot would never accept Nora with her lack of funds.
Nora tossed her blond curls over her shoulder. “When I wish for your opinion, I’ll ask for it. If you will not convince Owen to do this, then I’ll tell Mama about your gown.”
Lilias gritted her teeth. Nora could be a real pain, but she did love her. “I’m not speaking to Owen,” she said, matter-of-fact. And she wasn’t sure when she would do so again, but it was none of her sister’s business. He had lied to her. He had kept Nash’s presence in the Cotswolds through the years a secret, and he’d even visited with him. The betrayal cut deep, even though the logical side of her mind knew Owen had been trying to protect her feelings. He’d likely seen what she had refused to: Nash would never love her.
“Perhaps the Duke of Carrington can drive you in the park with Guinevere at the fashionable hour?” Lilias suggested.
Nora scowled. “That won’t do. It must be a handsome, eligible man so that the other girls my age will see me and be green with envy. When Mama lets me debut next Season, I’ll be the talk of theton.”
“You certainly will,” Lilias quipped, realizing how hypocritical the words she was about to say were. “But it will not be the sort of talk a young lady trying to make a good match would wish for.”
Nora gave her a look that told Lilias her sister thought her as much of a hypocrite as Lilias thought herself. A flush heated her face. “I was not trying to make a match,” Lilias huffed. “I thought I’d found the man I would wed.”
“And now?” Nora asked, sounding fascinated.
Lilias realized she had not done a good job at all of setting a proper example for her younger sister, and tomorrow she would start doing so. For herself, she honestly didn’t care very much, but for Nora and for her mother, she had to try. “And now,” she said, “I see that ‘true love’ is more apt to occur in Gothic novels than real life.” Saying the words made her very depressed, but she needed to accept reality.
“But how am I to be envied, then?” Nora wailed. “We have little money. My gowns will be old. And you will be on the shelf, which will make my prospects even worse!”
Lilias stiffened. “Thank you for your confidence, Sister, in my ability to secure a husband. I’ve had offers, if you recall.”
“I recall,” Nora said, arching her eyebrows. “I also recall you finding something wrong with both men, though they were handsome, titled, and wealthy. It was very selfish of you. I do believe you are part of the cause of Mama’s melancholy.”
Lilias opened her mouth to defend herself but promptly shut it. “When did you get so wise?” she asked instead, shame burning her cheeks.
“Not long ago,” Nora said with a giggle, “after I discovered your hidden hoard of Gothic novels and read them. Very informative!”
