Page 42 of The Grand Mistletoe Assembly
“No, but I am thirsty.” The quadrille was one of the livelier dances in the musicians’ repertoire.
“Then let’s find a glass of champagne.”
They made their way to the dining room, where a lavish buffet had been set out. Stuffed mushrooms, vegetables soaked in butter sauce, trifle, a pyramid of marzipan—Lily nearly drooled in anticipation. If she ate her fill, she’d never fit into this lovely dress again. Not that it mattered. She’d leave it behind when she left. At Langston Grange, she would have no place to wear it.
When Alastair grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, he and Lily toasted the success of the event and sipped the cold beverage. “If you don’t mind, I’ll find the ladies’ retiring room.”
“While you do that, I shall peek into the chambers beyond the dining room to find that perfect space we promised each other.”
She winked. “I’ll be right here when you’ve finished your perusal.”
Lily followed two women who were ascending to the next floor. When they entered a bedroom set out for use by ladies with various needs, she withdrew behind a screen and examined the dark blemish on her left evening slipper left by her foot-stomping partner in the quadrille. Not too bad. Alice should be able to remove the spot.
She put the slipper back on and reentered the main room. Two ladies stood before a looking glass.
One turned and gasped. “You!”
Lily froze, afraid to move or speak.
The chatter fell silent as Hannah, her late husband’s younger sister, bared her teeth. “How dare you show your face in polite company. You’re nothing but a whore who enticed my brother into marriage and murdered him in his own bedchamber. How did you get an invitation? Did you bribe someone? You’ve hidden yourself away so long I was sure God had punished you by now, and yet here you are, all decked out like a real lady. You belong in a brothel with the other trollops.”
Bile rose in Lily’s throat as she turned toward the door, brushed past shocked faces, and ran into the corridor.
The strident voice followed her. “And where’s your high-and-mighty brother? Here to protect your arse like he did during the inquest?”
Lily stopped. She needed to find her backbone. She couldn’t let Hannah win.
She straightened, turned, and marched back into the room full of shocked faces. “Think whatever you like, but don’t you dare voice your foul complaints in a public setting. Your brother was drunk. He stumbled and fell, hitting his head against the stone hearth, exactly as I said at the inquest. He was not murdered, and I was found not guilty. Take care whom you tarnish with lies in the future.” Despite her brave words, her hands trembled.
She stomped out and rushed to the ballroom. Her brother was nowhere to be seen, nor was Alastair.
Air left her lungs, and she swayed on her feet. She had to leave. Now. She couldn’t stay here another minute.
She hurried toward the front door. Eyebrows arched, a footman in full livery quickly opened the door as she rushed past. The icy cold slapped her in the face. She surveyed the snowy walk and the carriages lining the street. How would she get home? She couldn’t walk in Emily’s dancing slippers.
“Milady, do you wish for your cloak? I am happy to fetch it for you.”
She took deep, steadying breaths, and nodded, giving the footman a description. He left her there on the steps leading to St. James’s Place. When the door opened again, it was Alastair with her cloak.
“What’s happened? I saw you hurrying toward the door.”
“I need to go home. Now. Please find a hackney for me. No need for you and Constance to go.”
“Constance came with her best friend and her friend’s parents and is staying with them tonight.”
He called for his carriage, and when it arrived, he bundled her inside and climbed in beside her. Lily shook, not with cold, but with remorse. She’d ruined everything. She shouldn’t have come to London. She should have stayed at the Grange.
Sobs she could no longer hold back escaped, and Alastair placed his arm around her and drew her close. He said nothing, which she greatly appreciated, and when the carriage stopped, he helped her inside.
“Where … where are we?” Lily spoke through gulps of air as he led her upstairs and into a sitting room with a blazing fire.
“This is my home.” He removed her cloak and sat her in front of the fire, then he knelt and took off her wet slippers.
Lily curled into the settee and thrust her fist in her mouth.
“I’m going to get you a brandy.” He left and returned with a bottle and two crystal glasses. He splashed brandy in each and put one in her shaking hand. “Sip it slowly. If you’re not accustomed to it, it will burn your throat.”
He sat next to her as she sipped and drew her head to his shoulder. “As soon as you feel better, tell me what happened. You’re safe here, and there will be no interruptions. My staff is extremely discreet.”
