'If you do not mind, that is, ma'am,' Lily said, turning to her. 'I forget that I am not at home. I often go down to the kitchen at home, do I not, Father? It is the coziest room in the house, and I can always be sure of finding something useful to do there. Father does not mind.'
'And neither do I, child,' the countess said, patting her hand on the table.
'One quickly learns, ma'am,' the Duke of Portfrey said with a sigh, 'that daughters were created for the express purpose of wrapping their fathers about their little fingers.'
He looked like a different man, Neville had noticed almost from the moment of his arrival. There was a glow of happiness about him, and he did little if anything to disguise the enormous pride he felt in his daughter.
Later, in the drawing room, Lily made herself charming to everyone, sitting and talking with each of his aunts and with his mother. After the tea tray had been removed and some of the cousins had gone into the music room to entertain themselves with music, she sat for a while with Lauren and talked earnestly to her, holding her hand as she did so. And then Gwen was bending over her, saying something, and they smiled at each other before going into the music room arm in arm.
It must be a difficult evening for Lauren, Neville thought sadly. There had been a certain awkwardness between them since his return from London—she had not after all gone to Yorkshire—for though nothing had been said in their hearing, they both knew that speculation was rife in the neighborhood about his future plans. Did he intend to offer for Lady Lilian Montague, or did he intend to renew his plans to marry Lauren?
He and Lauren both knew the answer. But it had never been put into words between them. How could it be? How could he tell her that he had no intention of renewing his addresses to her without implying that she expected such a thing? And how could she tell him that she understood there could be nothing more between them than friendship without implying that she expected him to marry her?
But as always she behaved with outer poise and dignity. There was no knowing what went on in her mind.
He had loved Lily for a long time. He had not thought it possible back in the spring to love her more. But he did. He had tried to live his old life without brooding constantly about her. He had tried not to be too certain that she would in her own time come back to him.
But one sight of her had banished all pretense from his mind. Without Lily life would have very little meaning for him. She was sunshine and warmth and laughter. She was… Well, she was simply his love.
He kept his distance from her. He would not rush her even though there was an inevitability to the way this visit was developing. She had come with her father to celebrate a birthday party. He would allow her to enjoy it, then—tomorrow. But after tomorrow…
All his dreams rested upon what would surely happen after tomorrow. He refused to doubt, to fear.
***
Lauren and Gwendoline did not go immediately to bed when they returned to the dower house even though the hour was late. They sat together in the sitting room, in which a fire had been lit. It was a smaller, cozier room than the drawing room. They both gazed into the depths of the crackling flames for a while without talking.
'Do you know what she told me?' Lauren said at last.
'What?' Gwendoline asked. There was no need to clarify about whom they were talking.
'She told me that she knows I must resent her,' Lauren said. 'She told me that she resented me too last spring because I was so perfect, the model of what all ladies should be, so much more suited to being Neville's countess than she was. She told me that she admires my restraint, my dignity, my unfailing kindness to her despite what my real feelings must be. She asked me to forgive her for ever doubting my motives.'
'She is right to have spoken so openly of what is between you,' Gwendoline said. 'She does speak her mind, does she not?'
'She is—' Lauren closed her eyes. 'She is the woman Neville wants. Did you notice the way he looked at her all evening? Did you see his
'She told me,' Gwendoline said quietly, 'that she knew she had hurt me by stepping all unbidden into the midst of my family when I had not finished grieving for Vernon or adjusting to all the upheavals of my life. She asked me to forgive her. She was not being obsequious, Lauren. She meant it. I still wish it were possible to hate her, but it is not, is it? She is so very likable.'
Lauren smiled into the fire.
'When I said that,' Gwendoline added hastily, 'I did not mean—'
'That you do not therefore like me?' Lauren said, looking at her. 'No, of course not, Gwen. Why should it mean that? She is not my rival. Neville and I would have married if she had not come, but it is a good thing she did. Ours would not have been a love match.'
'Oh, Lauren, of course it would!' Gwendoline cried.
'No.' Lauren shook her head. 'You must have felt this evening what everyone else was feeling, Gwen. The air fairly crackled with the tension of their passion for each other. They were meant for each other. There was never that between Neville and me.'
'Perhaps—' Gwendoline began, but Lauren was gazing into the fire again and something in her face silenced her cousin.
'I saw them once, you know,' Lauren said, 'when I ought not to have done so. They were down at the pool together, early one morning. They were bathing and laughing and entirely happy. The door of the cottage was open—they had spent the night together there. That is what love should be like, Gwen. It is what you had with Lord Muir.'
Gwendoline's hands tightened about the arms of her chair and she drew a sharp breath, but she said nothing.
'It is the sort of love I will never know,' Lauren said.
'Of course you will,' Gwendoline assured her. 'You are young and lovely and—'
'And incapable of passion,' Lauren said. 'Have you noted the contrast between Lily and me, Gwen? After the —the wedding, I could have left here. I could have gone home with Grandpapa. I daresay he would have done
