grasp of my social schedule, sir. But in case you haven’t apprised yourself as yet, Mr. Bellamy had other, rather urgent plans for this evening,” she said, keeping a lightness in her tone. She turned deliberately to survey the room with its tight clusters of guests in lively debate before continuing pointedly. “And as you can see by the wide array of company I keep, I can’t possibly share in everyone’s political perspectives. Although perhaps I do have an opportunity to shape the occasional opinion.”
“Indeed, so it is, Mrs. Hampton,” Sydons replied, taking two glasses of punch from a tray that appeared at his side and offering one to Lilly with a gallant nod. “Are you perhaps attempting to temper an unruly beast into something more manageable? There are those on Fleet Street who can’t help but gossip, intimating that there may be nuptials on the horizon. What with your dear Mr. Hampton gone over a year now.”
Lilly’s fingers stilled on the stem of her punch cup at the mention of her late husband, Charles. A love match from the beginning, few could forget the steadfast devotion of the one for the other. All the more devastating was the tragic and untimely end of the marriage that had been seemingly made in heaven.
Seabourne cleared his throat to break the awkward pause. He patted her arm with avuncular affection. “Now, now, my dear. You do not strike me the melancholy sort. Charles would never have wanted you to mourn unduly but rather to get on with your life. You’re a young woman with so much to recommend you. And certainly, regarding Bellamy, I say, eligible is not the word. The man is the East India Company. Enough said. And quite the catch.”
“Enough said, indeed.” Shaking her head, Lilly eyed each man in her circle in turn, her gaze finally settling back on Sydons. “You do prattle on, sir, like an old woman.” She took a sip of the punch, wishing it were something stronger. “As if Mr. Bellamy would be interested in a nondescript widow of a certain age when he could have his pick of young, fresh girls on their first season.”
Silencing the gallant denials with a graceful gesture, she motioned toward the buffet. “The food is getting cold, gentlemen, while we speak on of inconsequential subjects such as myself and Mr. Bellamy. In the interim, oyster a la poulette awaits.”
The feint had its desired effect, as immediately Seabourne took her arm and led the group over to the mahogany table bracketed by two heavy silver candelabra. Amid sparkling chafing dishes swimming in cream and butter sat platters of delicious walnut-mayonnaise sandwiches, chicken salad, deviled crackers, and cream cheeses. Punctuating the savories was the Nesselrode pudding and a dessert of ice-cold coffee jelly smothered in whipped cream.
All of which was a feast designed to draw forth excellent stories and clever conversation, and, more important, create the most pleasant diversion, a nod to normalcy. Casting an experienced glance around the dining room, Lilly allowed herself to relax for the first time that evening, the tightness in her shoulders easing fractionally. Aware of Seabourne still at her side, his plate piled high with confections, she took a final sip of her punch, nodding to the various guests who made their way to and from the buffet.
Seabourne patted his lips with the heavy linen napkin. “Are you certain you will not have anything to eat, my dear?” he asked, the sharpness of his gaze belying the concern in his voice. He was a valued diplomat for a reason, his discerning eyes and ears absorbing the most subtle leitmotifs like a sponge.
Lily smoothed the rich bombazine of her bodice, the jet beads biting into her palms. She smiled brightly. “I had my tea earlier, realizing full well how time-consuming the preparations for the evening usually are,” she said. “But thank you for your concern.”
“I am concerned for you, Mrs. Hampton. Upon my return from India I was expecting you to be, if not fully recovered from the tragedy, at least somewhat more distant from it. But there are still deep shadows in your eyes, if you’ll permit me to say so. I realize how much you cared for Mr. Hampton, but sometime the grieving must end.”
“Again, your distress is not warranted, Mr. Seabourne, I am all but fully recovered, I assure you.” She delicately relinquished her empty cup to the sideboard.
Seabourne could not be stopped. “A tragedy truly. And a crime, to which we have still to find a resolution. If you were to finally uncover the truth and apprehend the felons, I am certain that so much of your anxieties could be laid to rest.” He raised a gray brow. “And then perhaps your burgeoning relationship with Mr. Bellamy might be allowed to flourish, free from the constraints of the past. And of course, Charles would want it so—to see his wife taken care of by one of his most ardent benefactors.”
Lilly endeavored to look embarrassed. “Truly, sir, this conversation has become far too personal and at the expense of my guests. Now I must truly excuse myself and see to my duties as a hostess. And, as a matter of fact, I may see to having an early evening. The exertions of the preparations…you do understand.”
Seabourne set aside his plate and napkin to lightly grasp her elbow before she could move away. “Absolutely understandable, my dear, but one last question, if I might be so bold.” His voice hardened imperceptibly along with the hand on her arm.
Lilly gathered her skirts and turned to face him directly, her face smoothed of expression. “Of course. One last question and then you must promise to permit me to see to the welfare of my guests,” she repeated her true emotions masked with a forced smile.
He spoke the words flatly. “It’s about your late husband, Charles,” he paused, and this time he gave the impression that the question was not of a personal nature. “And I hope it’s not too indelicate for me to inquire whether you have chosen another architect to complete his final plans.”
“For the Crystal Palace, you mean? And not at all, your question is not an imposition,” she said evenly. “As you know, the major building has all but been completed. As for several remaining interior spaces for which very particular designs are still wanting, I have yet to make a decision…it is too painful, as you suggest. And yet I realize the urgency of the situation, what with the Koh-I-Noor.”
He examined her closely, looking for the smallest fissure in her smooth façade. Then he nodded slowly as though suddenly understanding the meaning of an hitherto indecipherable text. “Surely I of all people don’t have to tell you of the political implications of the diamond and its presentation to the queen.” He grimaced at his own understatement. “Particularly given the unrest within the Raj at the moment. Security is of the utmost importance. I’m surprised the Royal Commission has not appointed someone to the project.”
A rhetorical question, one she mercifully needn’t answer. It was understood that the Crystal Palace would hold some one hundred thousand exhibits spanning the globe and representing nearly fourteen thousand exhibitors. It was the British Empire hosting the world in a huge iron goliath with more than one million feet of glass, a building both grandiose and innovative. “With the opening and presentation but a month away, they may well be pursuing the matter,” she murmured, unthinking and incautious. Smoothly relinquishing her forearm from his grip, she looked down at the fan dangling from her wrist, choosing her next words more carefully. “I have had much else to think about these past months.” They both knew to what she was referring. “The constabulary and their insistent questioning regarding Charles’s death has been both painful and tiresome.”
“Surely, they have given up making their ridiculous accusations, my dear.”
“Let us hope so,” she said abruptly.
“I heard that Bellamy came to your aid the other evening at Covent Gardens. I can’t imagine that an inspector would have the effrontery to accost you in a public venue about a matter so indelicate. And with Bellamy as your escort.”
Lilly
