nearest town of Buxton. Luckily, that lady had several new selections of material in stock, and Lily’s needlework was also excellent due to Mrs Seagrove’s tutelage in earlier years. Besides which, with the celebrations less than two weeks away, Lily was sorely in need of a new gown—
Lily drew her thoughts up sharply as she realised she was not only prevaricating but actually practising a deception upon herself; her reason for deciding she needed a new gown for the day of the well-dressing celebrations could be summed up in just three words—Lord Giles Montague! Which was a ridiculous vanity on Lily’s part, when she had no doubts that the haughty Lord Giles would have taken absolutely no note of the gowns she had been wearing on the two occasions on which they had last met.
‘Or perhaps this one …?’ Mrs Hall held up another swatch, having obviously drawn a wrong conclusion as to the reason for Lily’s present distraction.
‘I think perhaps—Oh, how beautiful!’ Lily gasped in pleasure as she focused her attention on the material which she was sure had to be a match in colour for the green of her eyes.
If styled correctly, it could be prettied up with cream lace at the neck and short sleeves to wear in the evenings. Not that Lily had attended any of the local assemblies since Edward died, but even so …
‘It is perfect,’ she breathed in satisfaction. ‘But no doubt costly?’ she added with a self-conscious grimace; she was, after all, only a vicar’s adopted daughter, and as such it would not do for her to look anything other than what she was, and this material had a richness about it that was unmistakable to the eye.
As she had grown to adulthood Lily had often found herself wondering if, as so many in the village so obviously suspected, she really could be the daughter of one of the dramatically beautiful Romany women who stayed in the grounds of Castonbury Park during the summer months.
Several years ago Lily had even plucked up the courage to question one of them, a Mrs Lovell, the oldest and friendliest of the Romany women. The old lady had seemed taken aback by the question at first, and then she had chuckled as she assured Lily that the tribes took care of their own, and that no true Romany child would ever have been left behind to live with a gorjer. It had been said in such a contemptuous way that Lily had no difficulty discerning that the old lady meant a non-Romany person.
Even so, Lily had still sometimes found herself daydreaming as to how different her life would have been if, despite Mrs Lovell’s denials, her mother really had been one of those lovely Romany women….
No doubt once she was grown she would have worn those same dresses in rich and gaudy colours that she had seen the Romany women wearing, with her long and wildly curling black hair loose about her shoulders as she danced about the campfire in the evenings, enticing and beguiling the swarthy-skinned Gypsy men who watched her with hot and desirous eyes.
Her daydreams had always come to an abrupt and disillusioned end at that point, as Lily acknowledged that might possibly be the exact way in which her mother had conceived the child she had abandoned on the Seagroves’ doorstep twenty years ago!
‘Perhaps it is not quite … suitable.’ She sighed wistfully as she touched the beautiful moss-green material longingly. ‘A serviceable grey would be more practical, do you not think?’ Her liking for the material in front of her was so immediate and so strong, it was impossible to prevent the wistfulness from entering her tone.
The other woman laughed lightly. ‘Like the gown you are wearing today, you mean?’
Lily glanced down at her gown, one of her older ones, chuckling softly as she realised the other woman was quite correct and that the gown was indeed grey, and that it was also eminently serviceable in style. ‘Do forgive me.’ She smiled at the other woman in rueful apology. ‘My head is so filled with arrangements for the well-dressing I did not even take note of which gown I had put on this morning!’
Mrs Hall nodded. ‘I have noticed that everyone in the village is excited at the prospect of the May celebrations returning to Castonbury Park this year.’
Everyone but Lily, it seemed….
How different it would have been if Lord Giles had not currently been in residence at Castonbury Park.
Ridiculous—if Lord Giles Montague was not at home, then Lily very much doubted that the May celebrations would have returned to Castonbury Park at all.
And as Mrs Hall had already stated, news that the garden party was once again to take place at Castonbury Park had quickly spread throughout the village in the two days since Giles Montague had told the vicar of his decision. Not that Mr Seagrove had spread that news himself. No, he would only have needed to mention the arrangements to Mrs Crutchley, the wife of the local butcher, for that to have occurred.
Mrs Crutchley had been in charge of arranging the flowers in the church for the Sunday services since the death of Mrs Seagrove, Lily having been considered by that lady as far too young to take on such an onerous task. As such, Mrs Crutchley also put herself in charge of orchestrating the floral decorations each year for the well-dressing ceremony.
One word from Mr Seagrove to this garrulous lady as to the change of venue to Castonbury Park for the celebrations after the ceremony, and that knowledge had spread quickly throughout the whole village. Indeed, everyone Lily had chanced to speak with in the past two days had talked of nothing else but the prospect of an afternoon and evening enjoying the Duke of Rothermere’s hospitality.
Everyone except Lily, for reasons she had not shared with anyone this past year….
But if she was to be forced to suffer a day in the company of Lord Giles—and it seemed that she was—then she really must have a new gown in which to do it! ‘Yes, I believe I will take this material, after all,’ she announced firmly as she stood up decisively, turning to admire the arrangement of ribbons in the window as Mrs Hall cut the appropriate amount of fabric. ‘I believe I would like this also.’ Lily had plucked a long length of dark green ribbon from the display and now handed it to Mrs Hall to be included in the package, knowing the ribbon would make a fine contrast to the lighter green of the material, as well as giving the gown a festive look for the well-dressing.
‘Is that everything?’ Mrs Hall proceeded to wrap and tie Lily’s purchases in brown paper after her reassuring nod.
‘You will send me the bill, as usual?’ At which time Lily would no doubt learn that there would be none of her allowance left with which to make any other purchases, either this month or the next!
It would be worth going without, if only to show Lord Giles that she could be just as elegantly dressed as any of the fashionable women he might know in London, Lily told herself as she walked briskly back to the vicarage, her parcel clutched tightly to her chest. Giles Montague enjoyed looking down his arrogant nose at her far too much—
‘You are looking mightily pleased with yourself,’ drawled that gentleman’s superior voice. ‘Can it be that you are on your way to an assignation, or have perhaps just left one …?’
Lily was frowning as she turned sharply to face Lord Giles.
‘I am finding your habit of appearing out of nowhere most irritating, my lord!’
He made no reply as he raised dark brows beneath his tall hat, once again the epitome of the fashionable gentleman, the tailored black jacket and plain grey waistcoat he wore today very much in the understated elegance of the most stylish of gentlemen, like the cane he carried of black ebony tipped with silver.
Lily’s
