Page 41 of The Grand Mistletoe Assembly
“Help me to understand.” Emily’s voice was softer now, her eyes compassionate. “I know you and Lord Selwick have a history—a romantic one, according to Papa. It looks like the old romance is rekindling. If you remain at home, feigning illness, the spark won’t be able to ignite.” She rushed over and put her warm hands on Lily’s shoulders. “You’ve been alone far too long, Aunt. This is a chance at real happiness. Please go. I can’t force you, but for some reason I can’t explain, it feels like this is an important moment.”
Lily could only counter that argument by telling her the real reason for her reluctance, and she would risk condemnation and worse. Emily had been a child when the scandal erupted. She’d never been told.
Lily sighed. She would have to attend, despite the fact she’d decided it would be best, after all, to remain at home. “Very well. I shall go, but don’t be surprised if I return early.”
She hurried upstairs and ordered a bath. Alice placed a dark-red silk gown she’d never seen before on the bed.
“Where did that come from?”
“Milady designed it for herself before she becameenceinte. She finished it yesterday, making a few alterations, so it would fit you. ’Tis the latest style, with a slightly dropped waist and fitted sleeves. This color will be perfect with your hair.”
“I don’t know what to say. She just finished it?”
“She also sent her fur-lined cloak with a hood. There’s snow on the streets.”
Lily’s heart was so full she wanted to cry. No wonder Emily had been disappointed when she’d tried to back out. Oh, she was an ungrateful wretch.
She bathed in record time, dressed with Alice’s expert help, and was downstairs before her brother arrived. Emily puttered, straightening a fold, adjusting an errant curl in Lily’s coiffure, and wringing her hands because Lily had declined the use of many of her offered jewels.
“This isn’t a low bodice. The neckline is delicate. I’m wearing your diamond earbobs. Enough is enough.”
Lily was enclosed in the floor-length hooded cloak when her brother entered the house to collect her.
When they arrived and were announced at the event, Alastair came forward to greet them and promptly placed her arm on his sleeve. “Shall we promenade? The Pearlers’ house is magnificent, and I’m guessing you’ve never been here.”
“I thought you were already seeking an alcove,” she teased.
He grinned and leaned down to whisper, “I don’t think that will be necessary. I’ve already spied several clusters of mistletoe placed in strategic locations. I’m confident one will suit our needs.”
They wandered away from the ballroom into a corridor where items for the silent auction were displayed. Lily’s painting already had a few bids, although an evocative oil painting by an artist whose work she admired had more interest. “I’m pleased to see a work by Adam Buck. His painting should bring a great deal.”
“Yours will too.”
“You’re kind, Alastair.”
“And you’re modest, Lily.”
They examined several offerings, including an exquisite necklace designed by Gustav Pearler himself. Pearler had royal patronage as a jeweler, and his designs were sought after.
Alastair seemed thrilled with the crush. As one of the foundling home’s patrons, he said they were hoping to raise enough funds to enlarge the facility, and he’d agreed to oversee it. Lily remembered Alastair had wanted to become an architect before his father purchased a commission for him. Perhaps he could pursue his dream now that he was Selwick.
“I hear the orchestra tuning. You promised me the first dance, and it’s always a quadrille.”
“Then let’s make our way back to the ballroom.”
They took their places in line and began the steps. Lily was sure she’d forgotten them, but apparently her feet had not, although one of her partners was clumsy and tromped on her toe. When it ended, Alastair led her to a vivacious young woman who had several ladies around her. When Alastair approached, she grasped his hand. “Papa. Just the person I wanted to see.”
“Constance, may I present Lady Lily Whittington. Lily, this is my daughter.”
“I’m happy to meet you.”
“As am I to meet you.” Constance peered into her face. “Papa said you were a dear friend. I daresay he should have said a beautiful, talented, dear friend.”
“Thank you for your kind words.”
Alastair whispered in his daughter’s ear, making her eyes sparkle in merriment. He excused himself and led Lily back to where the Earl of Langston had been sitting. The chair was empty.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
