Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

L illian was mesmerized by the exquisite gowns the ladies wore at Lady Montague’s ball. Hues of green, blue, and violet swirled around the dance floor. The ballroom was decorated with an abundance of white flowers, resembling the snow outside, and luxurious fabric of shimmering gold was draped over the tables. Candles flickered around the ballroom, and it all created the perfect atmosphere.

Gentlemen were dressed in crisp white linen shirts, waistcoats in different shades, with elegantly tied cravats, all completed by exquisitely fitted long-tailed coats. She had always loved the long-tailed coats the gentlemen wore, especially in navy blue, which was a very popular choice.

Lillian herself was dressed in a lovely gown in a striking pale sapphire blue shade, paired with long silk gloves in white. Her golden locks were swept away from her face and pinned in a knot on the crown of her head, with a few curls cascading down her neck. The slippers she wore were made of the finest fabrics, as put together by Madame Periaux at the modiste’s.

“Lady Montague has truly outdone herself. Would you not agree, Lillian?” Lady Welsford beamed beside her, dressed in a muted slate blue gown with embroidery on the bodice.

Lady Montague was known for her impeccable taste and style, and the balls she hosted were not only a roaring success but also the talk of the town. Her wealth and status in London, and perhaps the entirety of England, was rivaled only by that of royalty.

“I agree, Mother. It is truly magnificent.”

“Where has your brother run off to?”

“I am not certain, Mother. Would you wish me to look for him?” Lillian asked.

She would much rather search for her brother than be forced to dance with gentlemen she did not wish to be anywhere near or to be paraded around with her mother.

“That is not necessary. I am certain that he will turn up eventually. I am feeling rather parched. Would you care for some lemonade?”

“No, thank you, Mother.”

“Very well. Wait for me here.”

Lillian nodded and clasped her hands together. She knew that her mother did not wish her to wander off without a chaperone - which was exactly what she wished she could do. Although she adored attending balls, she felt rather discouraged that evening. She was disappointed that, when she had offered to assist the Duke in his pursuit of restoring his reputation, her brother had been against her suggestion as well. She only wished to help, but clearly, it was not enough.

“Good evening, Lady Lillian.”

A familiar voice said her name, and as much as she had hoped, for a moment, that it was the Duke, it turned out to be Lord Bertram. He was dressed very formally, with a dark gray long-tailed coat and a matching waistcoat. His eyes were bright, filled with an intensity that she had not experienced before.

“Good evening, Lady Lillian. How lovely it is to see you.”

“And you, my Lord,” Lillian nodded with a smile, bowing her head slightly.

“I could not help but notice that you are wearing the brooch which I gifted you. I am flattered,” Lord Bertram uttered with a smile.

Lillian instinctively moved her hand to the brooch, and as her fingers touched it, she nodded. Her mother had not wished her to wear it at first as, generally, gentlemen did not give gifts to ladies, beyond flowers, unless they were betrothed – but then, after some thought, Lady Welsford had decided that, perhaps, creating that impression might further her own aims, and had allowed Lillian to wear the pretty piece.

“Indeed. I thought it matched well with my choice of gown.”

“A very good match indeed. I am delighted that you adore it.”

Lillian forced a smile.

“My mother should be joining me shortly. She is at the refreshment table.”

“I am aware of her location. I spoke to her a short while ago. She suggested that I ask you to dance, which I was on my way to do.”

“A dance? Is this next melody not too slow for you, my Lord.”

“I cannot think of a more suitable melody, Lady Lillian,” Lord Bertram smiled and held out his arm to her. The previous set was just finishing, and the next dance would start in minutes. Over Lord Bertram’s shoulder, Lillian noticed her mother standing beside a friend of hers, and she encouraged Lillian with a subtle motion of her hand.

Aware that her every move would be being watched, she placed her hand on Lord Bertram’s arm, and he led her to the dance floor.

“I was not certain that you would attend this evening, Lady Lillian,” Lord Bertram pointed out as they started into the slow rotations of the dance, which had a great deal of turning about one’s partner, and not very much of changing to other partners for short turns.

“And why is that, my Lord?”

“You did not show much eagerness when I brought it up during my call upon you.”

“My apologies, my Lord. I was rather preoccupied with something that morning. Timothy and I had a slight disagreement about something, and I was still mulling it over in my head,” Lillian explained.

“I hope that you and your brother are well. I am yet to see him here.”

Lillian shrugged her shoulder slightly.

“We are perfectly well now. Thank you for being so concerned. My brother enjoys making an entrance, although he is not one for these social events.”

“I cannot imagine why.”

Lillian tilted her head to the side, and her brow furrowed.

“My Lord. May I ask a question?”

“Of course.”

“You attended Oxford, correct?”

“That is correct, yes,” Lord Bertram answered with a swift nod.

“Were you and my brother friends, my Lord? I do realize that I have already asked you this, but please, humor me.”

Lord Bertram hesitated for a moment and then cleared his throat.

“It was a long time ago, Lady Lillian. To answer your question, we were not, but I was aware of who he was. We did not attend the same classes, but I saw him every so often at the university. Why do you ask?”

“Curiosity. I heard my mother speak of Oxford and that you also attended. I merely wondered if you and my brother knew one another well, or not.”

“I am sorry to disappoint you, but no.”

“There is no need to apologize.”

“But we will certainly get acquainted in the future.”

Lillian subtly breathed a sigh of relief when the music ended, and Lord Bertram released her hand.

“Thank you for the dance, my Lord. I enjoyed it very much.”

“As did I, Lady Lillian.”

“Please do excuse me. If you happen to see my brother, please tell him that I am looking for him,” Lillian said as he led her to her mother.

“I will do so, Lady Lillian.”

Lillian smiled at Lord Bertram and curtsied when they arrived near her mother, who was still deep in conversation. He bowed, and turned away, obviously seeking whichever young lady he had promised the next dance to. She breathed a sigh of relief, then turned, before her mother could pull her into whatever dull conversation she was engaged in, and made her way to the other side of the ballroom with purpose.

Truth be told, she had nowhere to be, but all she knew was that she needed to get as far away from Lord Bertram as possible. Something was rather odd, and there was a strange feeling in her stomach. How on earth was Timothy so against Lord Bertram’s presence in her life if the two of them were never truly acquainted? Either Lord Bertram was lying, or Timothy was. But why would her brother lie to her? What possible reason could he have to lie to her about Lord Bertram? What did Timothy know of Lord Bertram that he did not wish her to know?

She stopped near a small collection of chairs in one corner, staring out across the room while she thought. As Lillian worked her lower lip, she noticed a familiar and very distinguished figure in the ballroom, not too far away from her. It was the Duke of Yarmouth.

Immediately, all thought of Lord Bertram left her mind.

Lillian would have assumed that a man as wealthy and attractive as the Duke would have young women surrounding him, or persistent Mamas bombarding him, but given the recent rumors, this was not true. The Duke stood alone, and not a single person looked directly at him. Their scowls were, of course, not lost upon the Duke nor upon Lillian, and she felt rather bad for him. He did not deserve to be shunned the way he was, but it did not appear to bother him. He sipped his drink and stared at the ballroom. Despite his poised stance, he appeared rather lonely.

Lillian glanced around her, ensuring that her mother was not nearby, and then she made her way towards the Duke. He looked utterly dashing in his dark formal attire, set off by a white waistcoat adorned with golden embroidery. There was, however, a pensive tension to his shoulders and jaw, which accentuated the sharpness of his features.

As she approached the Duke, his gaze shifted towards her, and his expression softened, much to her delight.

“Lady Lillian, how lovely to see you,” he smiled at her.

“How lovely to see Your Grace as well. I was not certain whether you would attend, but I am glad that you have.”

“As am I. You look very lovely, Lady Lillian.”

Lillian’s cheeks colored, and she lowered her gaze.

“You are too kind.”

“Is that new?” the Duke inquired, as he motioned to her brooch.

Lillian’s smile faded ever so slightly, and she nodded.

“It was a gift.”

“From Lord Bertram, I take it.”

“How did Your Grace know that?”

“Your brother informed me. Apparently, he is very interested in you, Lady Lillian, and I do not blame him one bit.”

Lillian’s cheeks colored once again, and she giggled a little.

“Pardon me, Your Grace. I do not know what came over me.”

“That is quite alright. And I only speak the truth. You are a lovely young woman.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

Lillian noticed her brother standing nearby, and her brow furrowed briefly at the expression on his face. It was filled with warning, and she wondered if perhaps her mother would scold her, and drag her home if she were to stand too close to the Duke.

“Lady Lillian?”

The Duke’s voice spun her back to the present moment, and she raised her brows.

“Pardon me, Your Grace?”

“Your mother certainly feels that Lord Bertram is the catch of the town.”

“Then she should marry him,” Lillian muttered.

The Duke suppressed a smile and cleared his throat.

“Have you seen your brother at all?”

“I do not believe that I have. He did not join us in our carriage, but I am certain that he is here somewhere.”

She wasn’t going to admit to having seen Timothy, simply because she wanted a little more time with the Duke for herself.

“Perhaps. Would you care to join me on the dance floor, Lady Lillian?” the Duke asked, and offered his arm. “I do rather enjoy this particular dance which is just beginning – that is, of course, if your dance card isn’t already filled for this?”

Lillian nodded.

“I would love to.”

Lillian placed her hand on the Duke’s arm and then, as the orchestra changed to the music for the next set, she enjoyed a rather spirited country dance with him. The melody was fast and cheerful, and it was precisely what they both needed to lift their spirits. Lillian chuckled as the Duke made witty comments while they danced, at least when the steps brought them together enough for conversation, and as the music ended, they were both out of breath.

“Thank you for the lovely dance, Lady Lillian. I certainly needed that.”

Lillian brushed a wayward lock of hair from her face and nodded politely.

“As did I, and you are most welcome.”

“I am aware of what you are doing, despite you attempting to be subtle about it. But I do appreciate it.”

Lillian smiled with a hint of embarrassment and shook her head.

“Your Grace, I do not know of what you speak.”

The Duke’s eyes sparkled with mischief, and it mesmerized her.

Their subtle yet powerful moment was rudely interrupted by Lady Welsford, who approached them with a blazing glare.

“Lillian, come with me, please.”

“Mother, I-”

“Now, Lillian.”

Lillian looked at the Duke with deep apology in her eyes as her mother practically dragged her away from him and into the hallway.

“Mother, stop.”

“Please, I do not have the energy for your impertinence,” Lady Welsford muttered as she led Lillian to a quiet room and closed the door.

“I am not the one who was impertinent, Mother.”

Lady Welsford turned to Lillian and pointed angrily at her.

“You are to never go anywhere near the Duke of Yarmouth again, Lillian. Is that clear?”

Lillian’s jaw dropped, and she was shocked that her mother would behave in such a manner.

“But why, Mother? The Duke did not do the things that people think he did. He is not the man the article portrays. He is-”

“I do not care, Lillian. You will do as I say. It is imperative that you find a good match to ensure the ongoing reputation of our family. Lord Bertram is that match, not the Duke,” Lady Welsford hissed.

Lillian stared angrily at her mother and threw her hands in the air.

“I do not understand, Mother. You wish me to be betrothed to a Marquess, while the Duke is of higher rank. What is better than a Duke? Should I rather seek out the affections of a Prince?”

Lillian did not allow her mother to answer as she turned on her heel and stormed off, leaving the room. She very much wished to climb back into their carriage and return home, as the night was certainly over for her, from that moment on. She would seek her evening cloak from the footmen at the front door, and she was certain that her mother would find her there, and quite quickly. Whether she would be allowed to leave the ball or not, she needed this few moments’ respite from her mother’s controlling manner.