Page 49 of Loving an Earl
His head turned and he pierced her with his eyes. Eyes that looked angry, sad, and curious at the same time. “How was it?”
She humphed loudly, coughed, and shook her head. “I’m not telling you.”
“Why not?” His lips curved up into a grin, and his eyes shone with mischief.
“You don’t really want to know, do you?” Surely he was jesting.
Now he coughed. “No.”
“Good. Because I’m not telling you.” She rose. “Goodnight, Langford.”
As she shuffled her tired feet toward the door, she heard his deep voice say, “Goodnight, Lilly.” Her breath caught in her throat at hearing him use her given name.
*
When Daisy knockedand entered her room the following day, Lilly buried her head beneath the covers. “Surely it cannot be morning already.”
“Yes, my lady. It is half nine,” she replied as she swung open the curtains, letting in light. “What dress would you like to wear today?”
Lilly knew the viscount would be calling on her, so she should put on her most flattering day dress. “The mint green one, as it will complement my eyes nicely.”
After she was dressed and Daisy had confined her hair to a neat coil, she made her way to the morning room and found Emmeline and Aunt Vivian breaking their fast.
“Good morning,” Lilly said as she took a plate and studied the offerings on the sideboard.
“Good morning, my dear,” Aunt Vivian replied as she rose from her chair at the table. “I’m off to visit the Marchioness of Rutherford this morning. I received word that the marquess died early this morning after a fall down the stairs. The young dear must be beside herself with grief.”
“Please give her my condolences,” Lilly said, her heart hurting for the marchioness. Letitia was in her mid-twenties. She was the daughter of one of Aunt Vivian’s dearest friends, Mrs. Cambridge. Letitia had married the marquess, who was thirty years her senior, during her second Season. Lilly wondered if their match had been at all like hers and Henry’s, though it couldn’t be entirely similar. Letitia had birthed a baby boy not six months ago.
“Yes,” Emmeline added, “please give her my condolences as well. Lilly and I will pay our respects tomorrow.”
Lilly sat at the table, draped the cloth napkin on her lap and took a bite of her toast with jam. “Poor Letitia. To be widowed so young and with a baby.”
“Yes. Well,” Emmeline said with sadness in her eyes, “we both know what that is like. Except neither of us has a baby to care for and love.”
“Perhaps when she is up to it, we can introduce her to the Ladies’ Society of Mayfair.”
“That is an excellent idea,” Emmeline said.
After breakfast, Lilly thought to check on Langford and tell him of the marquess, but when she approached his door, she heard masculine voices coming from within, voices she recognized as Blackstone and Caldwell. Instead of interrupting, she backed away. She would visit Langford later in the day.
*
Lilly’s mind wanderedto Letitia several times during the day, and it brought back her own pain and anguish from Henry’s death. She sat now in the drawing room beside Emmeline on the settee, awaiting Redford’s visit. A tea tray sat on the coffee table, waiting to be served. “Did you know Blackstone and Caldwell visited Langford right after we had breakfast?”
“No, I didn’t. It is amazing what goes on in my own home that I’m unaware of.”
“I’m sorry. Do you think he’ll come back to call on you?”
Emmeline’s answer was a long time coming. “I don’t know. He said nothing about it last evening. Besides, if he wanted my company, he could’ve sought me out when he was here earlier. I’m tired of saying this, but I think I may need to look elsewhere for a husband and soon.”
Lilly placed her hand on Emmeline’s, which was on her lap. “I hope not. Perhaps I could speak to him—”
“No,” Emmeline said quickly. “No. If it is meant to be, it will be.”
Harrison entered the room. “Viscount Redford.”
Redford swept into the room, clutching his hat and bowing. “Ladies.”
