Page 34 of The Grand Mistletoe Assembly
“I’m glad you share my concern, Aunt Lily. There’s going to be a charitable event at the end of the week to raise funds for a foundling home.”
“How wonderful. There is such a need. How will the funds be raised? Are they selling tickets?”
“It’s called the Grand Mistletoe Assembly, and there will be dancing, a dinner, and a silent auction. I’m planning to donate a reticule I’m sewing, since I can’t attend in my state.”
“You and Cardmore received an invitation?”
“We did, and we bought tickets even though it distressed us to have to decline. I adore dancing, as you know.”
Lily turned toward the door. “I once loved to dance. The last time I did was when you lived with me and insisted we practice the waltz.”
“Oh, that was fun, wasn’t it? I trod on your toe, and you hopped around the room, squealing. I nearly had apoplexy.”
“Until you discovered I was teasing.”
They both laughed at the memory.
“I’ll be in the ballroom,” Lily said. “The light is good, and I want to work on that still life with those beautiful hothouse flowers from your papa. I’ve arranged them in that crystal vase your husband brought you from the Waterford factory in Ireland.”
“I’ll send word when the tea arrives. You know I have to nibble and drink tea in the afternoons these days.”
“You loved your afternoon biscuits even when you lived with me. Should you be indulging so often?”
“No scolding. You know I’m close to tears at the tiniest criticism.”
Lily nodded. “Which is probably why Cardmore decided now was a good time to purchase that mare from his friend, Lord Ralston, who is conveniently at his seaside cottage.”
She loved Emily, but the girl was up to some mischief and had a difficult time hiding it. The glint in her eyes gave her away. What could it be?
Lily hurried to the ballroom, where her easel and watercolors sat near tall windows. She couldn’t possibly capture the facets of the crystal vase. The flowers were different. She’d painted them before and had studied them carefully by fingering the petals and sliding her fingers along the leaves and stem. Flower markets didn’t sell daffodils this time of year. Wherever did her brother find them?
She dipped her brush in the bright yellow paint and dabbed it on the canvas. Painting had soothed her for years, helping her to forget that awful time when she’d been accused of murder and had to go before the coroner’s jury at an inquest in a tavern, of all places. Jack Whittington’s death had been ruled an accident, despite the accusations of an emboldened maid, who swore she had heard raised voices before Lily shrieked and ran out of the room, covered in blood. The presence of Lily’s brother Harry Sinclair, the Earl of Langston, at the inquest had probably helped influence the coroner’s verdict of accidental death.
Jack’s sister Hannah, whose sizable dowry had allowed her to contract a marriage far above her station, was incensed at the verdict and vowed to ruin Lily if she ever set foot in London. So, she’d hidden at her family’s country estate, to avoid reliving any part of the nightmare.
A maid entered the ballroom and stood at Lily’s shoulder. “Coo, that’s right beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“Lady Cardmore said to fetch you. The tea is served in the drawing room.”
“I’ll clean my brush and join her as soon as I can.”
The maid curtsied and left. Another smudge appeared on the apron Lily wore when painting. Lily shook her head as she removed the garment, leaving it on a chair. Tea would be nice, but she wanted to finish this before she returned home to Langston Grange.
She made her way along the corridor and stopped at the open door of the small family sitting room. No Emily. Perhaps she was in the formal drawing room, closer to the front hall.
As she came to the head of the stairs, she heard voices. Who was with Emily? She didn’t usually entertain guests, not in her condition.
Lily cautiously descended and stopped at the door. Two pairs of eyes focused on her, and a gentleman stood and walked toward her, a broad grin on his face.
Her heart stopped. No, it was merely beating so rapidly she could barely take a breath.
“Alastair?”
He took her cold hand in his warm one and raised it to his lips. “In the flesh.”
CHAPTER 2
