Page 11 of Loving an Earl
“Why ever not?”
Inhaling deeply, Emmeline held her breath for five counts, then exhaled. She did this three times. “Because Lilly has been staying with me. Not to mention the fact that Langford hasn’t been in London for several years, and when he was last, he wasn’t very friendly to me. I’d married one of his closest friends. And I think he blames me for Aiden’s death. As though I caused the horse to throw him off to his death.” Emmeline gasped for breath, removed her delicate handkerchief from her reticule, and dabbed at her teary eyes. “Perhaps the duke thinks the same about me.”
Lilly leaned forward and grasped her hands. “Nonsense. Nobody blames you. How can they? From what you told me, they were with him during the tragic accident, not you. They were the ones who got inebriated during a hunting party and decided to race willy-nilly on horseback without regard to any of their lives. You were back at the estate having tea with the other guests.”
“Dry your eyes, daughter. We are next in the queue. Do not stay away from Langford or Blackstone because you think they blame you. Did you ever stop to think that perhaps they feel guilty because they were with him? That you are reading the signs wrong? That they stay away from you because of their guilt?”
*
“Your mother isa wise woman,” Lilly said. “Although I don’t relish coming face to face with Langford.” She shivered. “What a bear of a man.”
Emmeline’s soft laughter rang out in the carriage. “Did you know it’s the name of his horse?”
Lilly frowned. “Horse?”
“Bear. It’s his horse’s name.”
“It figures.” Lilly fought the urge to fidget as they made their way up the wide marble staircase, awaiting the receiving line. She didn’t have to look around to see people staring at her, wondering who she was, or already knowing and curious to see the young lady who had married the reclusive, elderly Earl of Langford.
Well, let them wonder and stare. Lilly already had it in her mind to join the Wilmington sisters along the wall. A widow and the wallflowers, how exciting. She knew she was an imposter and didn’t belong there. Her only saving grace was that Henry and Emmeline had trained her well on how to act in public. She didn’t resemble an imposter on the outside, but inside, she was still the vicar’s country daughter, through and through.
“Stop touching your hair,” Aunt Vivian whispered. “People are already curious enough about you. Let’s not have them think you have a nervous disposition.”
Oh dear, she hadn’t realized she was doing it. “Sorry,” she whispered, gripping her reticule with both hands in front of her tightly, hoping she wasn’t crushing the delicate silk fan inside. She would need that to hide behind in the ballroom.
Finally, they were at the top of the stairs with only a few people ahead. Lilly’s knees were knocking together. Then Vivian made the introductions to the Duke and Duchess of Westport. Lilly curtsied deeply. “Your Graces, it is an honor to meet you both and to be welcomed into your home.”
The duchess smiled warmly, putting Lilly somewhat at ease. “My dear, your departed husband was our longtime friend. Meeting you, I see now why he married you.” She winked at Lilly, and her eyes twinkled. Lilly curtsied again, wondering what the look was about. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
Emmeline wrapped her arm around Lilly’s as they entered the crowded ballroom once they were announced. The room glowed from the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and in sconces along the walls. The ballroom, decorated in gold and cream, resembled a fairytale. Never had Lilly seen anything so breathtaking in all her life. What in the world was she doing here? She should be living in a small village in the country with a landed-gentry husband. Not at a massive London estate at a ball attended by all of the aristocracy. There was even a rumor that the Regent might make an appearance.
“Pinch me,” she murmured to Emmeline.
“Why?”
“Because this must be a dream.”
“No dream. Hold tight because once our names were announced, all eyes turned to you.”
“Oh.” She had been so engrossed in the beauty of the elegant ballroom that she hadn’t noticed. “Why?”
“Because people are curious. The Earl of Langford married you after sixty-six years of bachelorhood. Members of thetonare fickle and love to gossip. Tonight, it’s you. Tomorrow, someone else.”
“Where did your mother go?”
“To sit with the older ladies and watch us young folks dance and socialize. Let us take a turn around the room.”
Lilly scanned the ballroom as they promenaded behind a line of people doing the same around the outer circumference of the ballroom.
“I should mention that even though you are a widow and allowed certain transgressions, I advise you not to cause a scandal. Pretend you are a debutante and abide by those rules. I don’t want your reputation destroyed on the Season’s opening night. And trust me, there will be people hoping for it—people such as Lady Wilmington. I wouldn’t put it past her to send some rogues your way.”
“What rules and what rogues?” Lilly asked with a sudden knot in her stomach.
“Oh dear, Henry never told you?”
“Why would he? We were married.”
“Do not dance with the same gentleman more than twice. Do not go off alone with a man, no matter how much you want to. Unless you go out to the veranda in plain sight. Say no if he asks you to stroll in the gardens. Nothing good comes from strolling dimly lit gardens at night.” She sighed wistfully. “Well, mostly nothing.”
