Page 16 of In Want of a Wife
“Stevens!” the duke barked once he finished his descent.
The footman rushed to the duke’s side with a hat and cane. “The carriage is ready, sir. Luggage will follow.”
“Very good.”
Charlotte spoke over her husband. “Come, come, Lily dear. I am in dire need of company.”
Lily felt torn in two, volleying between the pair. There was an argument under way between them. That much was evident, even in the guise of such marked politeness. A knot formed at the back of her throat as she proceeded upstairs, past the duke and his hive of servants, and up to Charlotte. If she had known he was in residence, she would have arranged a visit for another day.
“It’s lovely to see you,” Charlotte said, holding out her hands to Lily. “I think tea is in order. I have received the most delicious?—”
A small gasp left her lips as the door shut firmly behind him, and suddenly Lily thought something was much graver than his leaving for business as usual.
“Is everything well, Charlotte?”
Even with her bottom lip trembling, Charlotte smiled and sniffed back tears. “Everything is fine. He’s just, well… How about some tea?”
Charlotte uncharacteristically dragged Lily forward, nonetheless, in the direction of the morning parlor down the hallway, until the door swung open.
Kate tumbled forward through the entryway, out of breath.
Charlotte froze as Lily collided into her back with a startled cry.
“You can’t—” Kate started, huffing for breath before folding in half and leaning on her knees. She stretched out her left hand and pointed directly at Lily. “Terrible. Idea.”
“Just in time for tea, dear,” Charlotte said, her voice sounding much brighter than a moment earlier.
“No tea,” Kate said, her voice evening as she let out another large puff of air and pushed upward to mount the stairs. “You are harboring a runaway. Our Lily has decided to flee.”
Charlotte turned to Lily and stepped back toward the hallway as Kate reached the top of the stairs, boxing Lily in from any possible escape.
Lily flashed a sheepish smile, eager for some space from two sets of eyes demanding answers. “I would not characterize my leaving as though I am running?—”
“I arrived at your house this morning for a visit but noticed your absence. It’s rather odd, considering you haven’t left Milton House since your precious telescope was locked away. As it happens, though, your stepmother was in a rage about someone trifling in her closet.”
Charlotte clasped her hands together and studied Lily just as her old governess once had when she decided to speak Latin for an entire day. “I’m sure there is an explanation?—”
Another knock at the door, and the footman started back to answer it. Now was as good a time as any, Lily supposed. “Well, I’m guessing the reason is arriving now. Though he is late,” she grumbled, pulling a small watch from her reticule.
“Who’s late?” Charlotte and Lily chorused together.
“My husband,” she said in a forced whisper, desperate to hear the man shadowing the doorway.
“Yourwhat?” Kate gawked, dragging Charlotte and Lily away from the balustrade.
“My husband,” Lily repeated. “We’ve corresponded, and he’s come to retrieve me for our wedding. I am leaving today for the Isle of Wight to be married.”
Kate dropped her voice, far too similar to an overbearing matriarch. “You cannot be serious.”
Lily would carry out her plan. Her husband had followed through and was at the doorstep asking to be allowed in at this very moment.
Charlotte glided forward as Lily nudged Kate aside to peek at the man from above the balcony balustrade.
“What does he look like?” they hissed behind Charlotte. She glared down at them both like a scolding mother.
When she gave no answer, Kate pushed past Lily to raise her eyes above the banister and turned back to Lily, waggling her thick black eyebrows.
Charlotte's hand shoved Kate back down below the railing as Lily huffed, only half-annoyed Kate caught the first glimpse.
