old man to tell her who was behind it. ‘A friend of your brother’ was the only clue he professed himself ‘at liberty’ to give. In all honesty, the funds had been her lifeline these past few months, especially with the expenses for Aunt Hetty’s funeral. But she hated being beholden to someone she had never met.
‘Perhaps you could marry him,’ Jo mused teasingly. ‘He must be rich, surely.’
‘T’ would be hard, without first having met him,’ Lily countered with a faint smile. ‘Especially as—’
She broke off as the sound of the huge brass knocker against the front door echoed through the house.
Jo sighed dramatically. ‘I’ll just be a moment.’
She was back in no time, holding up a crisp white packet of paper. ‘It was only a messenger, miss. With this for you.’
‘A letter?’ Lily held out her hand for it. ‘How exciting—no one ever writes to me!’ Her face fell somewhat upon seeing the seal. ‘It’s from Mr Morley.’ Hastily, she wiped her hands on her apron and tore the packet open, revealing a single sheet of paper.
‘The solicitor?’ Jo made a face. ‘Perhaps he’s found some money hidden somewhere and he’s sending it so we can all live happily ever…Miss Lily?’
Lily, face white, looked up from her hurried perusal. ‘He says he regrets to inform me that Cousin Jack has returned from the Continent.’
‘Your Aunt Hetty’s boy?’ Jo snorted. ‘It never failed to confuddle me how such a sweet old lady could have such a gallivanting good-for-nothing for a son. God rest her soul,’ Jo added belatedly, crossing herself.
Lily nodded dumbly, the kind but firm lines that her solicitor had written still burning in her mind.
Jo put her hands on her hips. ‘Well—what of it? Are we expected to give him free board and welcome him with open arms?’
‘Worse. She left the house to him,’ Lily told her mournfully. ‘Don’t you remember, Jo? It was in her will. Now he is returned upon hearing of his mother’s death, and he wants to sell it.’
‘To fund more gadding about overseas, I don’t doubt! His good mother—God rest her soul—has been in the grave these three months, and only now he comes?’ Puffed up with outrage, Jo came closer. ‘Miss Lily—what will you do?’
Lily shook her head, trying to calm the panic within her. ‘I don’t know.’ She could cope with this as she had coped with everything else, surely. If she just thought a little, the solution would come to her…And yet her mind was a blank. There was no money, nothing to sell…There was no question of being able to afford to buy the house from her cousin.
‘Your mystery benefactor? Could we ask him?’
Lily turned a worried face up to her maid. ‘No—certainly not. Even if Mr Morley would tell me who he was, I cannot ask such a thing from a perfect stranger! It’s bad enough that I must be reliant upon his charity as it is.’ She bit her lip. ‘Not that I’m not grateful…It’s just…’
‘I know, Miss Lily.’ Jo pressed her hand. ‘But don’t you fret—there will be a solution. God never gives us more than we can take.’
Lily looked again at the letter, as if the answer was somehow hidden there. ‘I am sure you are right.’ But still she could not, for the life of her, think of anything.
‘You’ll have to ponder it later, miss,’ Jo said tactfully. ‘That is, if you’re still going to the ball.’
With a gasp, Lily put a hand to her mouth. ‘The ball—I’d quite forgot! What time is it?’
‘Almost five.’
Lily’s eyes widened. ‘I shall never be ready by the time Lady Stanton’s carriage calls!’
Untying her apron, she hurried from the room, leaving her maid, shaking her head indulgently, to follow.
‘Does it truly look good enough, Jo?’
Examining herself in front of the mirror, Lily bit her lip for the hundredth time and frowned into her own deep green eyes.
She was wearing a gown she had made herself and that she was proud of, a far cry though it was from those in the windows of the fancy dressmakers of Bond Street. The cobalt-blue silk complemented her light colouring and its full sweeping skirts, gathered and padded at the back, served only to further emphasise her slender waist.
Her hair, the colour of honeycomb, was swept up on her head in an array of soft curls that cascaded downwards in ringlets, brushing her shoulders. She was pleased with the effect her maid had achieved, but still she worried. This ball, a week into her second Season, was important for her future. She needed to make an impression, now more than ever—and that meant hiding her true circumstances from the world.
‘You look like any of them posh folks and more,’ her maid told her with affection. ‘’Cept you’ve still got flour on your cheek.’
‘Heavens—get it off!’ Lily angled her head into the mirror. ‘Where?’
‘Let me.’ Josephine deftly swept a hand over her mistress’s smooth skin.
‘Well, it is fashionable to be pale, I understand.’ Lily met the maid’s eye in the mirror and grinned. ‘And I don’t suppose any of the other ladies at Lady Langley’s ball will have baked their own bread ready for tomorrow’s breakfast.’
‘That they won’t.’ Jo beamed back.
But the smile had already faded from her mistress’s face as Lily turned her mind once more to the daunting task ahead of her. She must prepare herself, from today, for the action she had hoped never to take, reserved only for the direst circumstances.
Would that her brother were here to give her courage.
But then, Lily mused, if he was here she would be free to enjoy the Season like any other young woman, instead of living with the threat of bankruptcy and homelessness in her future. She pursed her lips. There was no use in wishing for what could not be—she had learned that lesson well, this last year in particular.
‘You’re thinking about Mr Robbie again, aren’t you?’ Jo said gently.
Thus prodded gently back into the present, Lily smiled at her. ‘Is it so easy to tell?’
‘He’d be proud to see how you’ve carried on, miss,’ said the younger woman softly. ‘How you’re makin’ a life for yourself.’
With a sigh, Lily looked at her glamorous reflection. ‘Is that what I am doing? I thought I was going out to catch myself a husband.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘God knows I never thought I would find myself here, forced to seek a marriage for money.’
Since her parents had died in the fire that had destroyed their ancestral home six years ago, Robbie and Lily had been alone. Eight years her senior, he had seen her educated and provided for, whilst carving out a career for himself in the British Army, a career he loved second only to his younger sister. He had given her the freedom she craved, and, after his death, she had only been more determined to make her own decisions
