Chapter 11

Eleven

A melia…oh, no, not Amelia, no names…the young woman, caught in the flagrant embrace. No, should that be lascivious embrace? Tactile embrace? No, it sounds as bad as it was. He put his arms around her…he…accosted her…behind the column. Snatching her away from the safety of the dance, the heir to one of the greatest dukedoms in the land made his rakish advances towards her. She was wholly innocent, a lamb, led to the slaughter. A dove…no, less highfalutin language. The poor creature…the innocent…caught in the clutches of a devouring beast. No, perhaps not beast… Lily thought to herself, laying aside her quill with a sigh.

Having returned to the home of Alicia's parents, Lily had made her excuses and gone straight to bed. Alicia had wanted to stay up and talk – Michael Tanner had swept her off her feet, and he was going to call on her the very next day.

"I think I might be in love," Alicia had said, confiding in Lily as soon as her parents were out of earshot.

Lily was pleased for Alicia, but her mind was elsewhere, and she had wanted to begin writing her scandal sheet as soon as possible. The room was comfortably furnished, and Lily was sitting at a writing desk by the window, surrounded by pieces of paper, all of them covered in her attempts at writing the account of the ball that evening.

I don't want anyone to know it was Amelia whom Maximilian seduced. She was a delightful creature – na?ve, but delightful. I won't have her brought down , Lily thought to herself, taking a fresh piece of paper, and beginning to write.

There were times when Lily had no qualms in revealing the part played by a woman in a scandal. As she so oft repeated to herself, she wrote the truth, and if a woman was party to scandal, so be it. But Amelia had been visibly upset by Maximilian's actions. She was – though Lily would not write it as such – an innocent lamb, hunted by a wolf. It was that wolf Lily intended to slay, and not the lambs on which it preyed. She thought of her father, knowing he would be pleased at all she had discovered in her short time in Lancaster.

And the look on the duke's face when he reads it – and realizes everyone else has, too, Lily thought to herself.

She began her new account innocuously enough – a description of the ball gowns and music, before turning her attentions to the more interesting guests.

"The Duke and Duchess Lancaster arrived with much accolade and ceremony, the duchess dressed in a most beautiful ball gown of blue satin, white lace trim, and pearls. They were followed by the arrival of their son, Lord Maximilian, whose continental style of dress mirrored his forthcoming behavior," Lily wrote, smiling at this tipping point between the public events of the ball and the scandal no one else yet knew about.

"As long as I keep Amelia's name out of it," Lily reminded herself, yawning, as she set down her quill.

The events Amelia had recounted – and those Lily herself had observed – were clear in her mind. Maximilian had used his power and position to attempt seduction, and when Amelia had rebuffed him, he had discarded her without a second thought.

"Utterly wicked, utterly rakish," Lily said to herself, shaking her head, as she continued to write.

"A duke might well have his choice of dancing partner, but to choose for himself, and force his affections on unsuspecting innocence is something quite different. Was the duke observed doing just this? Several sources attest he was. What sort of example is that to set? The heir to one of the noblest titles in the land, nothing more than a common womanizer…" Lily wrote.

She yawned again, glancing at the bed, the blankets of which had been turned back with an inviting suggestion. Lily was tired. The bed at the inn had been far from comfortable, and the ball that evening had been a long, drawn-out affair. She laid aside her quill and rose to her feet, intending to return to the matter the following morning. With no maid to help her, Lily got ready for bed, slipping between the sheets, and pulling the blanket up around her. She blew out the candle at her bedside, plunging the room into darkness, and closed her eyes.

I wonder if anyone else has ever dared write about the dukes of Lancaster in such a way? Lily wondered to herself, pleased to think she could be the first, and intending to make her father proud in doing so.

"Isn't this wonderful, Lily? I do love balls – the dresses, the dancing, the refreshments. One feels so…alive. Oh, look, there's Michael Tanner. Isn't he so handsome? Have you ever seen a man like him? His uniform…oh, I could gaze at him all day. Look, he's coming over to us," Alicia exclaimed.

Lily glanced over to where Alicia was pointing, and to where a handsome man, in the uniform of the king's militia, was approaching them. He took Alicia's hand in his and raised it to his lips. Lily curtsied, and he smiled, offering Alicia his arm.

"I'm sorry if I'm about to take away your friend, Miss…?" he asked, turning to Alicia, who smiled.

"This is my friend, Lily. She's come from London for the season. You don't mind if we dance, do you, Lily?" she asked, and Lily shook her head.

It would have been churlish to object, even as Lily was now left alone at the edge of the ballroom, watching as other couples joined the throng of dancers taking up the waltz. The ball, it seemed, was a highlight of the season, and all of Lancaster society was there to witness it. She looked around her with interest. The duke and duchess had arrived and were now being feted by the Lord Mayor. But a commotion at the door now distracted everyone's attention, and Lily watched as the heir – Maximilian – made a scene with the master of ceremonies.

"Get your hands off me – don't you know who I am? I want to be drunk, I'll be here drunk," Maximilian was saying.

Lily smiled. There was something amusing about him, even as he cut a tragic figure.

"Don't feel sorry for him," she told herself, shaking her head, as Maximilian was led away.

Eventually, he made another spectacle of himself and went out onto the terrace, leaving a wake of scandal in his place.

"I suppose he has his charms – he's a duke, and wealthy. Most women could put up with his defects," Lily thought to herself, and with no one else to talk to, curiosity got the better of her.

She made her way to the doors of the terrace. Watching, as Maximilian stood leaning on the parapet, looking out over the gardens. Lily was about to slip away, having observed him for a few moments, but as she did so, Maximilian called out to her.

"I've been waiting for you. I hoped I'd see you," he said.

Lily paused, uncertain of what to do. She had wanted only to observe him, but now, she could hardly run away – he would be bound to follow her. Stepping forward, she approached him with caution, and he turned to her and smiled. Dusk was gathering but she could still make out his face, and the curious outfit he was wearing – an orange frock coat, and a collar and ruff.

"I didn't think you'd give me a second thought," Lily said, but Maximilian shook his head.

"I've given you any number of thoughts since we first met. You're quite a delightful creature," he said, and Lily smiled.

She knew what he was doing – he wanted to seduce her, just as he sought to seduce so many other women, too. But curiosity had gotten the better of her, and Lily was eager to discover all she could about the man whose downfall she intended to bring about.

"Am I? Do you say that to every woman?" she asked, and to her surprise, Maximilian sighed.

"Not every woman, no. Not most, in fact. That's what they'd like to think, of course. It's what my reputation says of me. I play up to it, of course. But then… I don't know anything different. That's my problem – why should a leopard change its spots, or is it stripes? I can never remember. But it's what they expect of me. I'm a rake, so why not behave like one?" he said.

Lily was taken aback. She had not expected him to speak like this, and now she found herself feeling almost sorry for him, even as she knew such thoughts were nonsense. He was everything he believed himself to be, and the sooner the truth was known, the better.

"Well… I suppose…reputations are hard to alter," she said.

Maximilian shrugged.

"Yes, so why bother?" he asked, turning to her with a smile.

Lily felt conflicted. She had always vowed not to create scandal in order to write about it. But her feelings for the duke were such as to make the matter an exception. She thought of her father, knowing he would encourage this as a means to an end. Lily returned Maximilian's smile.

"I suppose that's true. What do you intend?" she asked.

"To ask you to dance with me," she said, offering her his arm.

The arrogance of his words made her shudder, even as Lily maintained her composure. There was something so infuriating about his sense of entitlement. But swallowing her pride, Lily took his arm.

"I'd be delighted," she said, as he led her back inside.

It felt strange to be on his arm, to have him so close to her, and now, to join the throng of dancers in the waltz. He danced well, his arm around her waist, ever drawing her closer into his embrace. When the music came to an end, they stepped back, and Maximilian bowed to Lily, taking her hand in his and raising it to his lips.

"A delightful dance, Miss Porter," he said, and Lily was surprised he even remembered her name.

"It was, wasn't it?" she said, as they stepped behind the columns running the length of the room.

Dusk was falling, and candles were being lit in sconces on the walls, casting flickering shadows all around. Maximilian led Lily into a dark corner and leaned on the wall with a sigh. Lily was curious as to his intentions. She found him repulsive in his behavior, though there was no denying his handsome looks. He, the heir to one of the most ancient and noble dukedoms in the land, a man of wealth and privilege, for whom any woman could surely fall if given over to materialist pursuits. But whatever charms he possessed were hidden behind a veneer of rakish self-entitlement, and it seemed he had become so used to living up to his reputation, it was now second nature.

"What really brings you here, Miss Porter? Do you leave behind some scandal in London?" Maximilian asked, and Lily blushed.

"Not at all, no. I've left nothing behind I wouldn't bring with me," she replied, thinking him quite impertinent for asking.

"I wouldn't mind if you did. Too many women make themselves out to be perfect when they're far from that," he replied, leaning his shoulder on the wall next to her, and turning to face her.

"And too many men…" Lily began, checking her words before she said something she regretted.

He raised his eyebrows.

"Too many men…?" he asked, and Lily blushed.

"Too many men think women are like that. Women can be as imperfect as men, I assure you," she said, and Maximilian laughed.

"Absolutely. The fairer sex isn't always fair," he replied.

Again, Lily felt almost sorry for him. Had an experience with a woman soured him for life? Perhaps he had been mistreated by a woman – led along the garden path, only to be rejected at the last moment. Men could be rakish brutes, but women could be subtle in their seductions, and swift in their revenge.

"You're right. Though I'm sure no woman would ever admit as much," Lily replied.

"But men…well, I did, didn't I? I told you just what I was like, and you still danced with me. I was honest," he said, and Lily smiled.

"You were, and I'm sure that counts for something," she replied.

"So…you don't come here to escape a scandal. But perhaps you come here in search of something…or someone. What is it you're looking for?" he asked.

Lily was not prepared for this question. She was not looking for anything in particular – apart from that which she could not reveal to him. He cocked his head to one side, narrowing his eyes in the flickering candlelight of the nearest sconce.

"I…well, I suppose I'm…not looking for anything in particular. I don't know quite what to say," she replied, finding herself unexpectedly lost for words.

"You could say you're looking for…a man who understands what it's like to be different. You've run away from something, I can tell. It's not always easy fitting in, is it? I know I don't'," Maximilian said, smiling at Lily, who blushed.

His words resonated with her. He was right – she did not fit in. Lily had forged her own path, never conforming to the expectations of others. In this, she resembled Maximilian himself – at least on his own account – and now she nodded, as he took her hand in his.

"You're right, yes. I didn't really fit in. But…well, it's strange to say so, but I find I'm already comfortable here. In Lancaster, I mean. I like the society here," she said, as he edged a little closer to her, still gazing into her eyes with a smile on his face.

At close proximity, it was easy to see why other women had fallen for his charms – his chiseled looks, his swept back hair, the expression on his face.

"I'm glad. I think the society here likes you, too," he replied, and to Lily's astonishment, he leaned forward and kissed her.

But it was her own reaction she found most remarkable, for instead of pushing him away, she kissed him back. As their lips parted, he smiled, resting his forehead against hers, his arms around her waist.

"I…" Lily stammered, for nothing about her encounter with Maximilian had been expected.

"You didn't resist," he said, smiling at her.

Lily realized what she had done, horrified by how easily she had been seduced. She stared up at him with fearful eyes, as now he laughed, and attempted to kiss her again.

"No…you mustn't. I won't… I can't," she said, and Maximilian looked at her curiously.

"Very well, if that's how you feel," he said, turning, he made to leave.

She caught his arm, confused as to her feelings for him – feelings she hardly dared admit to, even as they felt very real.

"But I…. I don't know. We shouldn't have. I'm… I'm not…" she stammered, but he waved his hand dismissively.

"Not like that, I know – that's what they all say. They lay the blame on me, and that's that. You'll speak about it, I'm sure. The rakish heir to the dukedom, snatching a kiss from you. But your own kiss was just as passionate," he said, and without waiting for her reply, he slipped between the columns and out into the throng of dancers, leaving Lily hurt and confused.

"What happened?" she exclaimed out loud, opening her eyes, and sitting bolt upright in bed.

It had all been a dream, but what a remarkable dream it had been, those same feelings lingering in a most unexpected manner.