Page 25 of Inconvenient Honor
“Would you join me in a refreshment, Miss Thornton?” An unfamiliar baritone overrode pretty words from Roger Heaton, who had been attentive, too attentive, all evening. She allowed him only one dance, but he hovered all evening just the same.
“Refreshment?” the stranger repeated.
Lily hesitated another moment. The young stranger’s dark face over a pristine, fashionably knotted neckcloth did not belong to an Englishman. She recognized him as one of Sahin Pasha’s aides.
Heaton watched the man sharply; he put a protective—and in Lily’s opinion, presumptuous—hand on her arm.
“Have we met?” Lily asked, removing Heaton’s hand.
“We were introduced at Chadbourn Park,” the man said with a rueful smile.
A lie, but a charming one. This is one of the “farmers” at the inn.One of the horse thieves,she thought.
She searched the room for Sahin Pasha and found him chatting with the Duke of Argyll. He did not appear to be aware of Lily’s presence, but she knew better.
“Of course, I remember now,” she chirped, carefully avoiding names since she had no idea what this handsomely dressed gentleman called himself. “I would indeed like refreshment.”
She thought Heaton might try to stop her, but good mannersprevailed. She could feel his eyes following her. She liked Roger Heaton well enough, but she wasn’t prepared to give him exclusive attention.
“What do you really want?” she whispered to her escort when they approached the refreshment table. He smiled down at her and melted away. She turned to find Sahin Pasha helping himself to cake. The sight did not astonish her.
“Ah, Miss Thornton,” he crooned. “Always a delight.” He took her plate and began to fill it with sweets.
“And you, too, favored uncle,” she said. She made no effort to keep sarcasm from her voice.
“I know we parted on difficult terms,” Sahin said.
“Difficult, favored uncle? You underestimate,” Lily said. She leaned toward the plate and whispered for his ears only, “It might have been catastrophic.”
“Was not your marquess protective?” She followed his eyes across the room where Glenaire stood next to his mother. She watched him lead Lady Sarah Wharton to the dance floor; she saw his mother’s grim satisfaction. The girl carried herself with a perfect mix of confidence and fragility. Her coiffure and gown reflected the height of current fashion exactly.
They make a beautiful pair; Lady Sarah is born to his world.
“He isn’t my marquess,” she said, “But yes. The marquess protected me.”From everything but himself.
“My apologies if I misread the situation,” the old man said, watching the pair caught up in the dance. “Necessity drove me.”
“I accept for myself, favored uncle, but my father?—”
“Is he not in London, little one? I had hoped to see my friend, John Thornton, here.” The old man shrugged. “Travel this time of year…”
“Alas his travel has been delayed for repairs in Copenhagen,” she said. “The Foreign Office can only do so much.” She took the dish of sweets she would never eat and lifted her skirt. “Now, if you will excuse me, I’ll take my leave.” They had begun to draw attention.
The old man nodded gravely. “I am in your debt, I fear. If you ever have need of my help, you know you can come to me,” he said.
Lily circled the edge of the dancers and put the entire plate of sweets on the tray of a footman stationed by one wall. She wondered if she would ever seek Sahin Pasha’s help again. The first time ended in—In what, Lily? Disaster?
Her stomach felt queasy, and she needed air. Pembrook’s ball had been the sad crush she anticipated, but no crowd of suitors surrounded her this time. Only one name other than Heaton graced her dance card. She wasn’t sure if she should be disappointed or relieved. She doubted that any of the callow young men would want a wife who had been unchaste.
What if there are consequences?
She thought she would seek out Chadbourn and his countess. The earl had come at Catherine’s insistence. He loathed balls. Lily began to see his point. Georgiana had shamed Lily into coming but stayed away herself. Lily tried not to give in to resentment. She stood in a ballroom stuffed with London’s highest society and felt more alone than she had her entire life.
She inched her way along the side until she came within feet of Catherine and the earl. She greeted her friend with a smile and walked forward, colliding with one of the dancers just leaving the floor.
“I beg your pardon,” she began. A man’s hand steadied her. She turned to find Glenaire’s intense eyes seeking hers. She took a step back.
“Miss Thornton. I didn’t know you were here.”
