“Don’t bother with them, Nora. I have firsthand experience that real life is nothing like a novel. Not everything turns out as you dream it will.”
Chapter Three
“I like what you’ve done to the gown,” Guinevere whispered as Lilias came to stand beside her where the duke and new duchess were gathered with some of their guests. Carrington was telling a story, and Guinevere was smiling fondly at her husband.
Lilias glanced down at the daring bodice she had modified at the last minute after speaking to her sister. She’d pinned a flower at the lowVto cover the tops of her breasts the plunge had exposed. She decided just enough was left to show Nash what he’d let slip away but not so much to make tongues wag.
“Do you really think it’s passable?” she asked in a low voice, meeting her friend’s guileless green gaze.
Guinevere nodded, then cut her husband a pleading look, which slightly baffled Lilias until Guinevere took her by the hand and led her away from the guests. It wasn’t the done thing to step away from one’s guests simply because another had arrived, but Guinevere was now a duchess and, therefore, was afforded much leeway by theton. Her friend greeted people as she wove through the press of bodies and made her way to the edge of the ballroom by the terrace doors. There was a scattering of tables on the right side, which held but one elder woman who looked to be napping, and potted plants to the left of the doors.
“Do you see that woman over there?” Guinevere asked, tucking a strand of her chestnut hair behind her ear.
“The one at the table with the gray hair? Who appears to be sleeping?”
Guinevere nodded. “That’s Kilgore’s aunt. I’ve borrowed her.”
Lilias frowned. That sentence raised so many questions, she hardly knew where to start. “Does your husband know that you’ve ‘borrowed’ your former suitor’s aunt? The suitor your husband detested?”
Guinevere smirked. “First of all, you and I both know Kilgore was never truly courting me.”
Lilias nodded. Guinevere had told her all about how the Marquess of Kilgore had only been pretending to court her because he’d lost land in a card game and the man who held it had wanted Kilgore to stop Carrington from wedding Guinevere. That man, who happened to be Carrington’s half-brother, had wanted Guinevere for himself. Guinevere had also told Lilias how she was nearly completely sure that Kilgore was in love with a new SLARS member, Lady Constantine Colgate.
Lilias didn’t know how inclined she was to believe that, though. Kilgore didn’t behave like a man in love. He had a different woman on his arm every week, and the rumors about his affairs in thetonwere legendary. But Kilgore certainly fit the description of a Gothic hero with his dark good looks and brooding and mysterious nature. He was a rogue of the first order. Everyone knew that there had been a wager placed on the betting books at Whites Gentleman’s Club some years ago that Kilgore could not seduce four specific ladies. Two of the women were wed, and two were young, unmarried ladies. Guinevere had been on that list, as had Lady Constantine. If the rumors were to be believed, Kilgore had seduced all the women but Guinevere. It didn’t matter if it was true or not; Lady Constantine was all but ruined. Of course, Lilias now knew that Kilgore had, in fact, seduced Lady Constantine, and the poor lady had fallen in love with him only to have her heart broken.
But that was all Lilias knew of the matter. Lady Constantine refused to speak more on it, and it was a rule in SLARS that they never made members speak of things they did not wish to. “So has Carrington forgiven Kilgore, then?”
Guinevere nodded. “He has, but he won’t say exactly why. I believe Kilgore made some sort of confession to him, but try as I might, Asher will not divulge what it was or explain what happened. His honor can be tedious at times.” Guinevere grinned.
Lilias felt a pang of jealousy that her friend had gotten her hero, but she buried the useless emotion. She was happy for Guinevere. Her friend had certainly endured her fair share of heartache on her road to true love.
“And why have you borrowed the sleeping aunt?”
They both looked at the woman whose head was still down on her forearm. “I borrowed her for you,” Guinevere pronounced.
Lilias frowned as she looked at her friend. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I overheard some harpies commenting on your lack of chaperone, so…”
Lilias bit her lip. “I had hoped no one would take note.”
Mama had hired chaperones now and again since Papa had died, but they never stayed. Lilias had thought it was because of Mama’s moods, but lately she had begun to wonder if there was something else involved.
Guinevere snorted. “A vain hope in this set of people who long for someone to cut down. Have your family finances worsened?”
Lilias didn’t take offense to the question. Guinevere was her dearest friend, and she knew Guinevere was trying to help. The only person she’d ever admitted it to had been Nash. “No more so than we’ve had for years.”
“Oh, Lil,” Guinevere said, squeezing her hand. “Why didn’t you say something?”
Lilias thought about the question for a moment. “I suppose for several reasons. I was a bit embarrassed, and I suppose not acknowledging the problem almost made it feel like it did not exist. That way I could go on in my fantasy.” She really did need to have a frank talk with her mother.
“About Greybourne being your hero?” Guinevere asked, studying her with concern.
“How long have you known?” Lilias asked.
“Ever since you came to Town and we met, and you told me about meeting him and all about the time you spent with him in the Cotswolds. And then when I told you I knew him from Town and you questioned me for days, it was fairly obvious. What was that? Seven years ago?”
Lilias nodded, feeling more the fool. “I must turn my attention to truly finding a match.”
