Chapter 20

Twenty

" D on't overdo it, Lily," Alicia said, as Lily wrapped a shawl around her shoulders, gazing at herself in the mirror, as she readied herself for dinner that evening.

She turned to her friend, raising her eyebrows, as Alicia looked incredulously at her.

"A shawl isn't overdoing things, Alicia," she said, fastening it with a silver clasp, before scenting herself with a perfume her father had bought her, and turning away from the mirror.

"I just think it's all too fast, that's all," Alicia replied, but Lily had heard enough.

Alicia was not going to dissuade her from her task. Lily's mind was made up. She would go to Burnley Abbey that evening and play the part of a besotted courtship. Maximilian was bound to respond, and when he did, Lily would seize the moment. Hidden in a drawer in her dressing table were her notes on Maximilian – everything she had gleaned in readiness for the next copy of the scandal sheet – and it was Lily's intention to return late that evening with the story she had promised Mr. Broker.

Something sensational , she had told herself.

"You're just jealous," Lily replied, and Alicia snorted.

"Jealous? Of you and him. I don't think so. I'd run a mile before I even thought about him as a prospect," she said.

"Well, I don't see any other men chasing after you, Alicia. Where's Michael Tanner?" Lily asked.

Alicia looked suddenly upset, and Lily feared she had crossed a line.

"He…it wouldn't work," she said, pulling out her handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes.

"Then can't you just be happy for me, Alicia? I'm sure you will be…in time," Lily said.

She had imagined the fall of the dukedom so often as for it to become mundane, but the fact of a final humiliation was tantalizingly close. All Lily had to do was hold her nerve – her father would be delighted, as would Alicia, and every woman ever wronged at Maximilian's hands…

"Hadn't you better be going?" Alicia asked, and Lily nodded, glancing at herself in the mirror for a final time, before bidding her friend goodbye.

Alicia accompanied her to the door, where a carriage had been sent from Burnley Abbey to transport her to dinner. Lily felt suddenly very grand, as though she really was to be the Duchess of Lancaster, and as the carriage pulled away, she allowed herself to imagine it was all real – at least for a moment.

"If only my father could see me now. He'd be so very proud of me," she told herself, for whenever she had her doubts, Lily always reminded herself of the goal in mind.

Her father would be vindicated, and those who had wronged him would be brought down into the dust.

Maximilian chief amongst them, she thought to herself.

It was a pleasant evening, and the sun was casting its setting shadows over the parkland as the carriage pulled up at the door of Burnley Abbey. Lily had long wondered what it was like inside, and she was looking forward to being at the very heart of that which her father had once called his own. He had lived a very different life, a life she really knew little about. As a child, she had often found him absent, and she was never privy to the places he went or the things he did. But he had told her enough for her to know it was here, in the beating heart of the dukedom, his downfall had played out. A shiver ran through her as she was welcomed by the butler, and Maximilian now appeared to welcome her, smiling, as he made a pretense of greeting.

"I'm so glad you could come. You're not nervous, are you?" he asked, but Lily shook her head.

"Why should I be nervous?" she asked, even as her heart was beating fast at the prospect of coming face to face with the players in her father's downfall.

"You shouldn't be, but…well, it's not every day one meets the Duke and Duchess of Lancaster. They're perfectly amiable, though – my mother, in particular. She's a darling," he said.

Lily recalled a choicer word her father had used in his description of Miriam, Duchess of Lancaster, but now she was shown into the drawing room, where the duke and duchess were drinking sherry with another couple, whom Lily could only assume were the Baron of Mowbray and his wife. They all looked up at Lily and smiled.

"How pleased we are to welcome you," Maximilian's mother said, hurrying to Lily's side and putting her arm around her.

The greeting was a warm one, and the duke could not have been friendlier.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Porter. I understand your father acts as a land agent. William here, my godson, he's our agent, aren't you, William?" the duke said, and the baron nodded, explaining something of his responsibilities on the estate.

The drawing room was opulent, the dress of those gathered exquisite, and the drinks flowed freely before the gong sounded for dinner.

"Will you take my arm?" Maximilian asked, and Lily smiled, taking his arm, as they processed into the dining room.

Lily had never seen such a grand room. The table could easily have seated forty, and it was covered in the finest silverware, cutlery, and glassware. Liveried footmen stood stiffly around the room, and a parade of dishes was now brought forth and placed on the sideboard.

"This is…extraordinary," Lily exclaimed, forgetting herself for a moment, and feeling entirely caught up in the dream of what she was experiencing.

Roasted game birds, whole fish, racks of lamb and sides of beef, raised pies, umpteen dishes of vegetables, and all manner of other good things to eat were served. It was an extraordinary sight – dish after dish brought forth, and Lily was at a loss to imagine how one group of people could possibly eat so much.

"The servants finish what we don't, and we send the rest to the poorhouse, on grand occasions such as this," the duke said, as though discerning Lily's thoughts.

She looked up and smiled, impressed by his philanthropy – an unexpected discovery, indeed.

"Oh, how kind of you," she said, glancing at Maximilian, who smiled.

"It's important to take care of those under one's jurisdiction. Estate workers, farm laborers, those who rent cottages from us. We've always tried to maintain a philanthropic attitude," Maximilian said, and his father nodded.

"Well said, Maximilian. You're quite right. What's the point in having money if you can't do some good with it? That's what I've always thought, at least," he said, and Lily nodded.

"It's very admirable," she said, as the footmen began to clear away the dishes.

The duke spoke eloquently about his plans for the estate – a school, a cottage hospital, and new housing to be built around a new farm, where apprentices would learn trades to assist in the running of the house and parkland.

"It's easy to rest on one's laurels. But we have a responsibility as members of the aristocracy. That's why I was so pleased when Maximilian announced your coming to dinner, Miss Porter. The heir of a dukedom needs stability in his life. He needs a…" he began, but the duchess interrupted him.

"I hardly think we need to speak of marriage just yet," she said, fixing the duke with a pointed look.

He smiled and nodded.

"Of course. But I must admit, we're very pleased at this unexpected turn of events," he said, glancing at Maximilian, who raised his glass.

"I'd like to propose a toast to Miss Porter," he said, and the others raised their glasses to toast Lily, who suddenly felt somewhat overwhelmed.

Her impression of the family had been that of an arrogant and haughty set of aristocrats, with no regard for the common man. But if their words were to be believed – and there was no reason not to – the Duke of Lancaster and his family were entirely concerned with philanthropy and the common good, a quality, it seemed, Maximilian possessed, too.

"It's very kind of you. I wonder…if you'll excuse me, I'd like to take the air for a few moments," she said, rising to her feet.

She felt strangely conflicted, desiring their downfall, and yet realizing they were good and decent people. The duke nodded, smiling at Lily, who now rose to her feet and hurried out of the room. A maid directed her to the terrace, and she stepped out into the moonlight, leaning on the parapet with a sigh.

"They're nothing like I made them out to be. And even Maximilian… oh, it's hopeless," she exclaimed to herself, for Lily could not imagine what scandal she might discover, now the family's true colors were revealed.

"Are you all right?" a voice behind her said, and Lily turned to find Maximilian standing by the door leading from the house.

She smiled at him, feeling genuinely glad to see him, even as the feeling took her by surprise.

"Oh, yes, quite all right. I was just…getting some air," she said, as he came to stand beside her.

"It can get rather stuffy in the dining room. I hope they haven't bored you," he said, with a genuine note of concern in his voice.

Lily shook her head. They were not boring her at all. On the contrary, she was surprised to find herself enjoying the evening immensely. She had come to Burnley Abbey with any number of preconceived expectations and yet had been proved entirely wrong. Whatever she might have thought of the duke and his family, she had seen a different side, one she could never have imagined from her father's descriptions.

"Not at all, I was fascinated to hear about your father's philanthropic work. I never expected…well, one hears so many stories about the aristocracy," Lily said, and Maximilian laughed.

"Yes, a lot of them printed in those awful scandal sheets. But it's not all true. One never really has the full story – not in that way. They give a one-sided account. But it hardly matters now, does it? I won't be appearing in one again. I've left all that behind. You've given me the chance to rebuild my reputation. We'll make an announcement about the courtship in due course. But my family won't stand in the way. Will yours?" he asked, and Lily shook her head.

She knew her father would say she had gone too far, and her mother would be horrified to learn of what she was doing for the sake of the scandal papers. For the first time since arriving in Lancashire, Lily felt unsure of herself. She wondered what would happen when others learned of the betrothal, and just how far she and Maximilian would have to go in order to make the deception appear real.

"No, they won't. I'll write to my mother in due course. I don't want her to find out through one of those awful scandal sheets," Lily said, and Maximilian smiled.

"And your father? I don't have to ask his permission, do I?" he said, and Lily laughed.

"No…you don't. I'm sure he'd give it. But let's go back inside, it's rude of me to remain out here," she said, and he offered her his arm, the two of them returning to the dining room, where further convivial conversation awaited.

Lily returned to Alicia's house in a state of confusion. She had expected to find herself loathing her hosts and their company. But the opposite was the case, and Lily could not help but feel grateful to Maximilian for the pleasant evening she had spent in his company. He had been nothing but a gentleman, and had she not known better, Lily would have assumed he really was a gentleman.

"There's a letter for you. It came earlier on – marked from London mail coach," Alicia said, not bothering to ask Lily how her evening had been.

She handed the letter to Lily, who was only just taking off her shawl in the corridor, before marching upstairs and slamming her bedroom door, the echo shaking the whole house. Lily rolled her eyes, holding up the letter to a guttering candle in a sconce by the door. She recognized the writing as being that of her mother, and taking another candle, she made her way to her bedroom, glad to find a fire kindled there, and the bed turned down. She had intended to begin writing her scandal paper, but with no scandal to report, Lily was at a loss as to what to do.

"I'll read mother's letter first," she said to herself, opening the envelope and sitting down by the fire to read.

As she read, her eyes grew wide with fear, and she gripped the paper, holding it up and pressing her nose to it, reading the text aloud.

"Your father is very ill…he has succumbed to a fever brought on by conditions in the gaol…they fear for his life…. I write, not because your father means anything to me, but because you do, and I know you would want to know the truth…" Lily read.

She was horrified to think of her father succumbing to a fever. He had always been a strong and resourceful man, but to imagine him lying helplessly on a prison bed…

And I was willing to see the good in them, Lily thought to herself, reminded of why she had gone to Burnley Abbey that night, and of those who had committed her father to his downfall.

Casting aside her mother's letter, and with a renewed sense of determination, she went to the writing desk by the window, took up ink and quill, and began to write. She was concerned only with her father, and she wanted him to know she was doing all she could to bring about the downfall of those responsible for his current predicament. If the dukedom could be dragged down, perhaps the door to her father's cell could be unlocked, too. So absorbed was she in this work, it was not until the clock on the mantelpiece struck midnight she looked up, realizing several hours had passed since her return.

I'll finish it tomorrow, she thought to herself, as a sudden noise caused her to look up.

To her astonishment, a figure was sitting on the window ledge, his outline visible against the dark sky beyond, reflected by the flickering candlelight, the curtains still pulled back. Lily was about to scream, fearing an intruder had climbed up the ivy and was making an attempt on the house. But a sudden realization came over her – the figure was Maximilian, unmistakably so, and now she hurried to the window, pulling up the sill, as he clambered inside.

"I know you weren't expecting me, but I wanted to see you again, and since I couldn't very well knock at the door at this time of night…" he said, slipping his arm around her.