to do so. She should settle back into her normal life. It might take a bit of time, but she would become accustomed to it. Being around the Morelands had been exciting. Entertaining. But that wasn’t how Lilah lived. She was not flamboyant; she didn’t crave adventure and excitement; she wasn’t driven by wild uncontrollable passion. All she had ever wanted was a quiet, pleasant, rational life. The sort of life she had.
Lilah gave a little nod of her head, feeling a bit as if she had won an argument. She glanced over at Aunt Helena, whose head was bent over her embroidery. Lilah was forcibly reminded of Con’s comment about spending her days on embroidery.
“Do you need anything done?” Lilah asked. “Is there an errand I might run for you?”
Aunt Helena looked up and smiled. She was a small, neat woman, her blond hair now touched with gray at the temples. Lilah felt an upwelling of affection. Aunt Helena had welcomed her and raised her, and Lilah could never repay her for that. It was no easy task to take on a girl of twelve and guide her into womanhood, to train her in proper behavior and the ins and outs of society. Con might sneer about mundane things like needlework—and, frankly, Lilah was not fond of embroidering either—but there was nothing wrong with spending one’s time that way. And her aunt’s work was excellent.
“Oh, no, dear, no need for that. Cuddington has gone to the apothecary to pick up my tonic, and Mrs. Humphrey has the house in order as always. Why don’t we discuss our calls this afternoon?”
Calls weren’t what Lilah had in mind to relieve tedium. They were tedious, more often than not. But Lilah held back her sigh. Making and receiving calls was a fact of life.
“I thought we would go early in the afternoon,” Aunt Helena said. “That way we’ll be back by the time Sir Jasper comes.”
“Sir Jasper is visiting us this afternoon?” Lilah asked in some dismay. “He was here just two days ago.”
“Well, of course, I don’t know he’ll call on you.” Aunt Helena gave her a small, conspiratorial smile. “But given his recent behavior…”
Her aunt had hopes that Sir Jasper had matrimony in mind. Unfortunately, Lilah suspected she was right. She wished Aunt Helena would not encourage the man. But she had no desire to get into a discussion of that, so she said only, “Who were you thinking of visiting?”
“Mrs. Blythe, of course, to thank her for that lovely little dinner party last night. And it’s been some time since we’ve called on Mrs. Pierce.” Lilah couldn’t hold back a small groan at that name, and her aunt smiled. “Yes, I know, dear. Elspeth Pierce is a dreadful gossip. But that’s exactly why one mustn’t get on her bad side.”
“I suppose.” She didn’t really mind the woman’s gossiping; it was the insipidity of her conversation that wore on Lilah’s nerves. But her aunt was right; when Mrs. Pierce took a dislike to one, she was deadly.
“I really should call on the vicar’s wife,” Helena continued. “But their daughter is ill, so that will excuse us from that.”
“It seems visiting people shouldn’t be such…a chore.”
Aunt Helena smiled. “It would be nice. But we cannot shirk one’s social obligations, can we?”
Lilah thought somewhat resentfully that the Morelands seemed to be able to do so easily enough. But, of course, Lilah wouldn’t want to be viewed as the Morelands were. She cast about for something to occupy her until this afternoon’s calls.
“Perhaps I shall go to the bookstore first.” Lilah popped up from the sofa as a sudden thought occurred to her. “On my way, I can drop off a book for Lady St. Leger. I have a Wilkie Collins she has not read yet, and I promised to lend it to her.” Olivia wanted the book; it wouldn’t be rude or out of place to visit the Morelands as long as she had a reason. Indeed, the proper behavior would be to take the book to Olivia, as Lilah had promised. And there was no reason to worry about running into Con; he was doubtless off on one of his adventures.
“Lady St. Leger?” Her aunt’s forehead wrinkled a bit. “Do I know her?”
“She’s one of Sabrina’s sisters-in-law. She and her family came to stay at Broughton House for the wedding.”
Her aunt’s frown grew. “One of the Morelands? Dear, do you think that’s wise?”
“I promised, Aunt Helena. I can hardly ignore a promise.” Lilah was feeling more cheerful by the moment. It would be good to see Olivia again, to have a nice long chat about books. Much as she loved and respected her aunt, Helena was not a reader. Maybe Kyria would be there, too. Or the duchess.
“Of course not,” her aunt agreed reluctantly. “I just thought now that the wedding is over, you wouldn’t be seeing them as much.”
“I haven’t seen them. It’s been four days,” Lilah reminded her. “I should go now so I’ll be back in time for our afternoon calls.” She turned toward the door.
“It’s rather early for paying a call, don’t you think? Not yet noon.”
“The Morelands pay no attention to things like that.”
“I know,” Aunt Helena said darkly. “Well, if you must go, take your maid with you.”
“Aunt Helena…I hardly need a chaperone to go from here to Broughton House in broad daylight.”
“Of course not, dear. It’s how it would look.”
“Society’s rules are not so rigid anymore,” Lilah protested.
“That may be. But that’s no reason for us to lower our standards.”
“Poppy has several things to do—um, mending my clothes and, uh…”
“I wish I hadn’t sent Cuddington to the apothecary. She could accompany you.”
“No, no, I’ll take Poppy with me.” The last thing Lilah wanted was to drag her aunt’s dour maid along with her.
Lilah hurried upstairs, calling for her maid, and opened her wardrobe closet. Her casual morning dress would not do for paying a visit; it required something more stylish—this honey-colored walking dress with the rust-brown piping, for instance. It went well with the reddish-blond color of her hair, and the nipped-in waist gave her tall, willowy figure a more fashionable hourglass shape.
She could wear her new half boots. They were, perhaps, a trifle unusual, with their paisley print and curved line of gold buttons, but the colors went well with her dress, and anyway, no one would see them beneath her skirts. Well, except someone like Con, of course, who apparently made it a habit to keep an eye on ladies’ ankles. But that sort of man was not interested in either fashion or propriety.
She set off for the Morelands’ home, book in hand, Poppy trailing along a few steps behind her. It was annoying having to take her along. Perhaps Lilah should visit her home in Somerset, where she could hike wherever she wanted and not worry what society might think. It would provide her with an escape from the tedious round of courtesy calls—not to mention Sir Jasper’s attentions. She could relieve her boredom.
The problem, of course, was that Aunt Vesta was there. Lilah hadn’t stayed at Barrow House since her father’s sister had returned. Lilah had been fond of her as
