Page 49 of Lady Lilias and the Devil in Plaid
“She sounds like a perfect breeding specimen.” He didn’t bother to curb his cynicism.
“I’ve told her father you will come to supper.” It was a cold, detached statement.
“When?” he said, forcing himself to accept his fate and pushing any feelings about it away.
His mother gave a rare smile, purely triumphant. “Tomorrow.”
“Who is this paragon of purebred lines you’d have me wed?”
“Her name is Miss Eloise Balfour. She’s the daughter of Dr. Balfour.”
Nash frowned. “Our family physician?”
His mother nodded.
“I’m surprised and gladdened to discover you don’t consider her beneath the family name, given she’s not of theton.”
“She has other things that recommend her,” his mother replied in a pinched tone.
What the devil is going on here?
“Such as?”
“Her mother produced six sons, all healthy.”
“I see.” His old anger at how they viewed Thomas as a problem to be managed and fixed flared once more. “Are you concerned, Mother, about getting an unhealthy grandchild?”
“Of course, I’m concerned,” she snapped. “Sins of the past always taint the future.”
Hissins. She meant his sins.
And perhaps she was right. It didn’t matter that the prospect of meeting Miss Eloise Balfour did not make him feel anything. What mattered was atonement, and he was apparently far from finished atoning.
Lilias stood outside of her mother’s closed bedchamber door with her fist raised to knock, but she lowered her hand, heart pounding, and stared at the dark wood. She was tortured by guilt. She could not wed Owen, but how could she willingly make her sister and mother’s life more difficult? Why must things be so complicated?
“Lilias?” She jumped at the sound of her mother’s voice behind her and whirled around to find Mama standing there holding a bunch of papers. “I was just coming to find you.”
Lilias’s stomach knotted, and her mouth went dry. “I thought you were in your bedchamber.”
“Why didn’t you knock?” Mama asked.
“I—Well, I, feared I might wake you,” Lilias fibbed, her cheeks instantly burning with the lie. When her mother chuckled, Lilias’s jaw slipped open. “Mama, you laughed!”
Mama linked her arm with Lilias’s, opened her bedchamber door, and led them both inside. She closed the door behind her and motioned to the sitting area. “Your cheeks pink when you fib. They always have.” She said it in a gentle tone, then motioned toward the window. “Take a seat, Daughter. I have news!”
Lilias was glad for the delay in telling her mother her own news so she immediately did as requested and sat in the burgundy chair near the window. Her mother sat on the chaise that faced the chair and set the papers she’d been holding in her lap. And then that scrutinizing look of moments before swept over her face again. Lilias assumed she’d decided to ask her why she’d been at her door again, but instead, Mama surprised her by saying, “I saw your uncle today.”
“Uncle Simon was here?”
Mama nodded.
“I did not even realize…” Lilias’s words drifted off at the undeniable realization of how self-absorbed she’d been.
“No,” her mother said softly, leaning toward Lilias and taking her hand, “you would not have. You’ve been quite sad. Don’t think I am totally oblivious, darling.”
“Mama, I’m so sorry!”
“Don’t be.” Her mother patted her hand. “I suspect it has something to do with your impending marriage.”
