Violet (Flower Trilogy) (44 page)

‘‘Who?’’ Lily asked.

‘‘Lord Grenville. Did your mother not tell you she’d suggested he offer for my hand? Father says it is a brilliant match.’’

Grenville was handsome enough and wealthy, but thirty-five years old to Judith’s twenty. ‘‘Do you love him?’’ Lily hoped so. Judith was plump and pretty, but even more important, she was genuinely nice. A good friend who deserved happiness.

‘‘I barely know him. But Mama assures me we will grow to love one another—or get along tolerably, at least.’’ The excitement faded from Judith’s blue eyes, replaced with a tinge of anxiety. ‘‘ ’Twill work out fine, I’m sure of it.’’

‘‘I’m sure of it, too,’’ Lily soothed, reaching across to take her friend’s cold, pale hand. She squeezed, wishing she were as certain as she sounded. Her own parents had promised their daughters they could choose their own husbands, but Lily knew it did not work that way for most young women.

Her family was different. The Ashcroft motto,
Interogga Conformationem,
translated as Question Convention—and said it all.

The Carringtons, on the other hand, were as conventional as roast goose on Christmas Eve. Judith forced a smile and pushed back a lock of bright yellow hair that had escaped her careful coiffure. ‘‘Who was that handsome man who stood as godfather?’’

Lily sat back. ‘‘One of Ford’s old friends. Lord Randal Nesbitt.’’

‘‘Would it not be fun to be newlyweds together, have babies together?’’ Some of the color returned to Judith’s cheeks. ‘‘You should marry
him
.’’

‘‘Wherever did you get that idea? I hardly know Rand.’’

‘‘Rand,’’ Judith repeated significantly, making it clear she’d noticed Lily’s familiar use of the name.

‘‘What does that matter? I hardly know Lord Grenville, either. And believe me, he doesn’t look at me the way
Rand
was looking at you.’’

‘‘Looking at me?’’ Lily echoed weakly. She’d hardly looked at him at all. She’d been focused on the cooing baby in her arms—her sister’s first daughter. Her first niece. Nicky was great fun, of course, but here finally was a little girl to play house with, to fix her hair, to—

‘‘Lord, he hardly took his eyes off you the entire time.’’ Judith’s lips curved in an impish grin. ‘‘ ’Twas certainly more entertaining than the baptism.’’

Lily felt her face heat and wondered if Judith could be right—if instead of watching the ceremony, everyone had been watching Rand watch her.

But no . . . Why would Rand be interested in
her
?

Her friend had been seeing something that wasn’t there. ‘‘You just have the wedding bug,’’ she said lightly, rubbing the faint scars on the back of her hand.

‘‘Besides, if he’s interested in anyone, I’m sure ’tis Rose. They share a passion for languages.’’

‘‘Ah,’’ Judith said with a smug tilt of her pert nose,

‘‘you know more about the man than you’re willing to admit.’’

Ignoring that, Lily leaned to look out the window, but there was a long queue of carriages. They were going nowhere.

The door popped open and Lady Carrington poked her head in. ‘‘Were you leaving without me, dear?’’

‘‘Of course not, Mama. We just came inside to talk.’’ Judith scooted over to make room.

A large, jolly woman, Lady Carrington wedged herself beside her daughter and tucked in her voluminous salmon skirts. Before her footman could shut the door, a striped cat nimbly leapt inside.

Lady Carrington sneezed. ‘‘Shoo!’’ she exclaimed, waving one manicured hand at the hapless feline.

‘‘Beatrix,’’ Lily said softly, ‘‘you cannot ride in this carriage.’’

The cat gave her a hurt look but leapt out.

‘‘Much better,’’ Lady Carrington said as the door shut. She turned to Lily. ‘‘This afternoon I’m hoping your father will advise me about flowers for Judith’s wedding.’’

The Earl of Trentingham was nothing if not an expert on flowers. ‘‘I’m certain Father will fancy being consulted,’’ Lily assured her. She smiled vaguely as the carriage started moving, listening with half an ear to the wedding-plan chatter.

She wasn’t ready to think about weddings, or at least not her own. Rose was a year older—her wedding should come first.

At Lakefield, Violet and Ford’s house, Rose motioned Lily near and gestured with her eyes toward where Rand was in conversation.

‘‘He keeps looking over here, Lily. He’s spotted me.’’ Tall and willowy, Rose looked a pretty picture against the drawing room’s soft turquoise walls—and well she knew it. She straightened one of her glistening chestnut curls and smoothed her deep blue satin skirts. ‘‘He remembers me,’’ she added confidently.

‘‘Of course he remembers you.’’ Lily glanced in Rand’s direction. ‘‘You worked with him translating that old alchemy book, did you not?’’ she added slowly, finding herself staring.

How had she managed to ignore him in the chapel?

Rand was not a man to whom women would be indifferent. His physique was lean and athletic, and his hair, a million mixed colors of blond and brown, was longer than hers and gorgeous enough to make her jealous.

As though sensing Lily studying him, he turned his head while still talking. For a split second, his intense gray eyes blazed into hers.

Or she thought they had. She blinked, clearing her vision. Now Judith had
her
imagining things.

‘‘I’ve been dreaming about this day for weeks,’’

Rose said, reclaiming her attention.

‘‘The baptism?’’

‘‘No, you goose. Seeing Lord Randal again. Ever since I danced with him at Violet and Ford’s wedding, I’ve known he is the man for me.’’

Suddenly Lily remembered Rand had danced with her, too, at that wedding, maybe even more than he had with her sister. Not to mention, of course, that Rose lusted after every handsome, eligible man who crossed her path.

But Lily had to admit that Rand could be the one.

Good looks aside, he was more suited to Rose than most men. They were both academically minded and shared mutual interests. ‘‘I had no idea you’d been thinking about him all these years.’’

‘‘Dreaming,’’ Rose repeated on a sigh.

‘‘Four years is a long time to dream.’’ Lily cast him another quick glance, then smiled. ‘‘I suppose he is the memorable sort.’’

Her sister looked at her sharply. ‘‘You’re not interested in him yourself, are you?’’

‘‘Of course not!’’ First Judith, now Rose? Was something in the air today? ‘‘Whatever would make you think that?’’

‘‘You said he’s the memorable sort.’’

‘‘That doesn’t mean I want him. A man like Rand would never be interested in someone like me. He’d want someone like you, Rose. You’re both fascinated with languages. Rand and I have nothing in common.

And he’s too tall.’’ Lily drew herself up to her full height of five foot two and figured she stood to about his shoulders.

Looking down at her, Rose snorted. ‘‘There is no such thing as a man who is too tall. Will you promise?’’

‘‘Promise what?’’

‘‘Promise me you won’t pursue him. Promise me you’ll not get in my way.’’

The entire idea was so absurd, Lily laughed. ‘‘I promise. In fact, I’ll do better than that. I’ll help you land him.’’

‘‘Would you?’’ Rose breathed.

‘‘Of course. You’re my sister. I love you, and I want to see you happy.’’

Rose’s dark eyes actually misted. ‘‘You’re so good, Lily. You want everyone to be happy.’’

‘‘Is there something wrong with that?’’

‘‘Of course not,’’ Rose said, and then in the next breath, ‘‘What will you do to help?’’

Rose would be Rose, Lily thought with an inward smile. ‘‘Whatever I can. But you must do your part, too. And that means not pretending, for once, that your head is filled with pudding. You’re an intelligent woman, and hiding that makes no sense.’’

‘‘For Lord Randal, perhaps it doesn’t, because we have common interests. But for other men—’’

‘‘For any man. Why would you want a man who doesn’t value your strengths?’’

‘‘You don’t understand men, sister dear. Most of them thrive on feeling superior.’’ When Lily opened her mouth, Rose held up a hand. ‘‘But we were talking about Lord Randal, who is not most men—’’ She broke off, her eyes widening. ‘‘Gemini, here he comes!’’