Secrets of a Wedding Night (4 page)

It was true that their parents had always fawned over Lily’s beauty, but Lily had always made it a point to tell Annie how pretty she was. And she was very pretty. Pretty and sweet. No doubt she’d be in high demand when she made her debut in a matter of days. Lily sighed. Then she would be busy keeping men away from her little sister. Hmm. Perhaps Evans should employ that stick Colton had mentioned after all.

“You’re still too young for that particular word,” Lily insisted. “And I’m in no hurry to teach you anything of the sort.”

Annie frowned before lowering her voice to a whisper. “You must admit Lord Colton isn’t doing a very good job of attracting your attention, however. These gentlemen have been sending you flowers, and sweets, and poems for years and you’ve shown absolutely no interest in any of them. Lord Colton is not even trying.”

Lily’s fingertips caressed the cards on the silver tray momentarily before she snatched her hand behind her back again. “I could not care any less if the Marquis of Colton ever gives me so much as a calling card.”

Annie picked up the nearest vase of lilies and spun around in a circle, her white skirts swirling around her bare ankles.

“Well, I should very much like the marquis to give me a calling card. Or even better, a bouquet.” Annie buried her nose in the vase and inhaled deeply. “That man is positively beautiful.”

Lily snatched the vase from her sister’s arms and slid it back on the table. “Good heavens. Of all men, you do not want the Marquis of Colton paying you any attention.”

Annie cocked her head to the side as if considering. “You’re right. The marquis is much too old for me.”

Lily expelled her breath. Finally, Annie was making some sense. Thinking logically as she should.

“I cannot wait to have a nice, young beau sending me flowers,” Annie said. She twirled about again and paused to curtsy to an imaginary suitor.

So much for high hopes. Shaking her head, Lily pulled her sister into the nearby salon. “Think what you’re saying, Annie. And please remember, you do not
have
to marry. I will find a way to take care of you. A come-out is not all you imagine it to be.”

“But I
want
my debut. I’m greatly looking forward to it.” Annie’s pace slowed as she entered the room. Her shoulders slumped. “Lily, you’ve been exceedingly kind to me, taking me in after Mother and Father died four years ago, but I’ve been trying to tell you, I want my Season, I want a beau, I want flowers and sweets, and poems. I want to fall in love.”

Annie said the last word with such reverence in her voice Lily couldn’t bring herself to tell her there was no such thing. Annie’s happiness was the most important thing to her. And she would never knowingly shatter her sister’s dreams. Lily remembered the excitement of her own debut … vaguely. Annie had been looking forward to the questionable event for as long as she could remember, and Lily intended to provide it for her.

She had only to stave off the bill collectors long enough.

But she would be remiss if she didn’t at least attempt to educate Annie. Lily steered her sister toward the settee. “Flowers, and sweets, and beaux are one thing, but husbands are quite another matter altogether.”

Annie sighed and twirled around in another circle, her eyes sparkling. “I cannot wait to attend my first ball. Mr. Eggleston has already requested a dance.”

Lily jerked up her head. “Mr. Eggleston? Who is Mr. Eggleston?”

Annie plopped down on the settee, one leg tucked beneath her, an enchanting smile on her face. “He’s our neighbor, next door. I met him on Wednesday afternoon when Mary and I were coming back from the market.”

Lily pulled out her sewing and arranged the perfectly ordered basket to her satisfaction. She glanced up at her sister and frowned. “You should not be meeting bachelors until after your debut and you know it.”

Annie shrugged. “I couldn’t be rude. We nearly ran into each other. I dropped one of my parcels and he retrieved it for me. He’s so charming.”

Lily scowled. “Who are his parents?”

“He’s the second son of Baron Eggleston.”

Lily narrowed her eyes. “How old is he?”

Annie shrugged. “Twenty-one, perhaps.”

“And obviously impertinent. Mr. Eggleston should not be addressing you or asking for dances.”

Annie set her jaw in a pout. “I know. You’d be happy if I had never spoken to any man. But, Lily, don’t you remember? You were my age when you had your debut. You were my age when you were married.”

Lily closed her eyes. “Yes, of course I remember. Which is precisely why—”

Annie turned her head away, refusing to look at Lily. “Mr. Eggleston is quite smitten with me, and I have every intention of dancing with him.”

Lily expelled her breath in a rush, and then swallowed hard. She threaded a needle and began mending the handkerchief Leo had chewed a hole through the week before. “Lord knows I’ve been dreading it, but perhaps it’s time you read my pamphlet.”

Annie’s head snapped back around. Her eyes wide, she pulled at her curls. “No! I do not want to read it. I’m sure to have nightmares for weeks afterward.”

Lily bit her lip, considering the matter for a moment. “And that is precisely why I have not given it to you yet, but with all of your talk of beaux, I wonder…” She yanked the needle through the white linen square.

Annie slumped against the pillows and put the back of her hand to her forehead. “Oh, please, no more talk about the pamphlet. Let’s talk of something else, like my chaperone. Who will accompany me to the events of the Season?”

“A chaperone is entirely unnecessary. I intend to escort you myself. But I’m trying to tell you … You’ve romanticized all of it. It’s far less wonderful than you understand.”

Annie groaned. “I’d die an old spinster if it were left to you.”

Lily sighed. “Annie, listen to me—”

Annie sat up and faced Lily with accusing eyes. “That’s your trouble, Lily. You’re too calm. You show no emotion. You’re heartless.” Annie’s voice shook. “When was the last time you let yourself feel? When was the last time you cried?”

Lily pushed her sewing aside and reached for her sister, but Annie flung off her hands. “No. No. I’m going to my bedchamber.” Annie fled from the room, her handkerchief pressed to her mouth.

Lily watched her sister leave in a swirl of white. She closed her eyes.
That
was Annie’s trouble. The girl was too emotional, too easily hurt. Her sister would fare so much better in the world if only she would be less trusting, less quick to believe in myths and fairy tales like true love.

Lily slumped back in her chair and Leo trotted out of the corner to cuddle at her feet. “I don’t remember the last time I cried,” she murmured softly. But it was a lie. She remembered the exact time. And place. A morning, nearly five years ago when she had waited for Devon Morgan to come for her, to take her to Gretna Green and marry her. It was a trip that never took place. And all Lily had received was a note. But, yes, that was the last time she had cried.

And after she’d wiped her tears away, she’d promised herself she would never be so weak again.

Mary wandered into the room then, a feather duster in her hands, whistling softly to herself. Lily sighed and shook her head. Clearly, the maid had been eavesdropping.

Lily pulled her sewing back into her lap. “You might as well say what’s on your mind, Mary. I know you overheard my exchange with Annie.”

Mary turned to her, a fake-innocent look on her face. “I may ’ave ’eard a bit o’ it.”

Lily clenched the fabric in her hands. “Annie doesn’t understand. I can barely afford the cloth for the new gowns I’ve been sewing for her. I’m doing my best to provide her with a debut, but marriage … marriage is not what she thinks.”

“She’s young, me lady. Young and impetuous,” Mary replied with a knowing smile.

Lily sighed. “But I’m protecting her. Why can’t she see that? I was at the mercy of our dissolute father and my careless husband, but Annie … Annie doesn’t have to live with the threat of a man controlling her.”

Mary nodded. “She doesn’t ’ave yer worries.”

Lily laughed a humorless laugh. “You mean the fact that we’re nearly destitute? And I sit in this house, day after day, struggling to pay bills while the
ton
assumes I’m living off a sizable dower?”

“If I could take yer troubles for ye, I would, me lady. But I’ve never known ye to not ’ave a plan.”

Lily straightened her shoulders. “Yes. I will find a way to take care of all of us, and Annie will have her debut. Impetuous though she may be.”

Mary squeezed Lily’s hand. “I seem to recall another young woman who was young and impetuous once.”

Lily scrunched up her nose. Mary’s
long-term
memory was spot on … unfortunately. Lily sighed. “Was I ever
that
young? Or
that
impetuous?”

Mary didn’t answer. Instead, she nodded solemnly. “I know ye’re in a terrible state right now, me lady. But I ’ave every confidence in ye. Ye’ve lived through quite a lot, already. Yer ’usband died, then yer parents, and then ye took in Miss Annie and us. But ye’ve been stubborn since ye were a small girl, and I’ve never known a problem ye couldn’t ’andle.”

Lily smiled at that. Yes, she was stubborn. She’d had to be. And true, she’d handled every problem she’d come across. To date. But this particular problem was becoming more and more difficult to master.

“Money. Money. Money. It’s all I can think about. I need money, not flowers and sweets and poems. Those I have in spades. Though not,” Lily noted, brooding, “from the Marquis of Colton. Intending to seduce me indeed. So much for his promises. Just like a man.”

“Doesn’t Lord Medford say the pamphlet is selling well? Ye’re sure ta make a fine penny off o’ it.”

Lily nodded. “Yes. That pamphlet may just save us. And not a moment too soon; the new earl may toss us onto the streets at any moment. We’re only fortunate he hasn’t done so before now.”

Mary cleared her throat. “May I ask ye a question, me lady?”

“Of course.”

Mary’s eyes darted back and forth and her voice was a rough whisper. A nervous smile played about the maid’s lips. “I’ve yet ta read yer pamphlet. What
was
the secret of yer wedding night?”

Lily clapped her hand to her forehead. “Oh, Mary. If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

The maid picked up her skirts and moved over to the settee, hovering close. “Oh, ye must tell me,” she whispered.

Lily bit her lip. The look of childlike curiosity on Mary’s face tugged at Lily’s heart. She chewed on the end of her fingernail. It would be such a relief to tell someone. To finally unload the burden. Besides, Mary would forget the entire conversation in a matter of minutes. What would be the harm?

Lily gave the maid a sidelong glance. “Very well. Sit down, if you will hear it.”

Mary scrambled into the closest chair, her eyes wide, her knuckles turning white from clutching the arms of the chair. “Ye’re going ta give me a copy o’ the pamphlet?”

Lily laughed. “Oh, no, no, no. That pamphlet doesn’t contain the secret. Not the
real
one at any rate. The real secret is…” She cleared her throat and leaned forward to whisper. “That is to say … Lord Merrill and I never … well, we never … quite … consummated our marriage.”

CHAPTER 4

“The countess is looking especially fine this evening, Colton.” Jordan twisted his brandy glass in his hand and eyed Devon over its rim.

“Which countess?” Devon barely glanced up, but damn it, he knew exactly which countess, and the woman looked absolutely stunning. He’d seen her from across the ballroom, her dark hair pulled back in a chignon, her light gray gown accentuating her perfect figure, her violet-blue eyes sparkling. Blast it. He was already being plagued with indecent thoughts. This entire seduction plot would be that much easier if he weren’t driven half mad just looking at her.

Seduction was much less complicated when one had the upper hand, after all. And that’s exactly how he intended to proceed, with the upper hand firmly in place. His inconvenient attraction be damned.

“And Miss Templeton is here, too, I see. No doubt, her mama forced her to attend,” Jordan continued.

Devon’s gaze scanned the ballroom. Miss Templeton was a beauty, if one preferred tall, willowy blondes. And until recently, Devon had. But of late, a certain diminutive brunette had captured his interest again.

Devon pulled down his sleeve with a sharp movement. “No doubt Miss Templeton is scared senseless, and from what I’ve heard of that damned pamphlet, she has every right to be. It’s a wonder Lady Merrill is allowed in Polite Society.”

Jordan laughed. “Are you joking? No one knows for sure she wrote it. Not to mention the fact that she’s a Society favorite due to her wit and beauty. I daresay the Prince Regent himself is smitten with her. Besides, other than scaring off a few silly misses who will eventually come to their senses, the pamphlet is more shocking and interesting than damaging, really.”

“Not,” Devon replied, “if you’re trying to marry one of the silly misses.”

Jordan’s smile was wide. “All anyone can talk about is that pamphlet. I’ve heard it’s gaining in popularity now that Miss Templeton has cried off because of it.”

Devon expelled his breath. “Perfect. That’s exactly what I needed to hear. Now I’m actually helping her to sell copies of the bloody thing.”

Jordan’s crack of laughter followed. “You know the
ton,
Colton. Where scandal goes, interest follows.”

“You’re not helping, Ashbourne,” Devon bit back.

Jordan shrugged. “Why don’t you dance with Miss Templeton?”

Devon squared his shoulders. “I’m dancing with someone this evening, but it won’t be Miss Templeton.” He tossed back his drink, shoved his empty glass into the hand of a passing footman, and stalked away.

Jordan’s mocking voice followed him. “Give Lady Merrill my very best.”

*   *   *

Devon found Lily in the arms of one of her many admirers. Dancing. And laughing. Irritation niggled at him. He narrowed his eyes and strode toward the couple. He wasn’t about to let Lily enjoy herself while he was forced to endure the stares of half the
ton
attempting to gauge his reaction to his fiancée crying off.