“But Cal and Emm—”
“Pfft! Your brother spent most of his life at war—a totally uncivilized environment—and Emmaline, though a good enough woman in her way, was, after all, only a teacher—”
“Her father is a baronet.”
“Exactly—not even a member of the peerage! Now will you listen and stop interrupting! You are a daughter of an earl, and your standards should be higher. There is that Miss Peel waving at us. Daughter of a mushroom! Such appalling manners. Ignore her.”
Lily sent a shy smile to Miss Peel as the barouche swept past. Aunt Agatha continued, “Do not be forever hanging on Galbraith’s arm, wanting him to escort you thither and yon. Nothing bores a husband quicker than an overly dependent wife. You must make your own life and he will continue on with his—a husband’s life changes very little with marriage; a wife’s changes completely. Ah, there is the Duchess of Dinstable. A charming gel. Bow.”
Lily bowed to the pretty young duchess, and the stream of instruction continued.
“You are responsible for your husband’s domestic comfort—run your household well, be strict with your servants and plan your meals entirely around his likes and dislikes. Don’t bother him over breakfast. Nothing irritates a man more than female chatter in the morning. Better still, take your breakfast separately.” She gave Lily a critical sideways glance. “In fact, a gel of your build would do well to skip breakfast entirely.”
Lily had no intention of obeying that one. She adored her hot chocolate and pastries for breakfast. Or a boiled egg followed by toast and honey. Or bacon and—
“Are you listening to me, gel?”
“Yes, Aunt Agatha.”
“Never contradict your husband or openly disagree with him. He will frequently be wrongheaded and in error—it is a male failing—but never point it out to him. Appear to accept his view and quietly do as you think best.”
The instructions kept coming. Lily let them flow over her. Aunt Agatha’s seemed a rather grim and joyless view of marriage. And yet she’d married three times.
“Finally, when you discover your husband has a mistress, you will—”
“A mistress?”
The old lady made an airy gesture. “Pish tush, don’t sound so horrified. All men have them. The male sex is incapable of fidelity, but that’s of little importance. Now, at some stage, when Galbraith inherits the title, he will take his seat in Parliament and in that case . . .” A flow of instructions followed. Lily took little notice.
Why was male fidelity—or infidelity—of such little importance? Men expected women to be faithful, so why could women not expect the same? She thought about Edward and those house parties he attended. Would he honor his marriage vows, or break them as Aunt Agatha seemed to expect?
“That covers the basics,” Aunt Agatha finished. “Do you have any questions?”
Lily did. “You’ve covered all the things I need to do to make my husband happy. What should he do for me?”
Aunt Agatha turned to her in amazement. “What a foolish question! He marries you, of course. And thus he provides you with his name, a home, a position in society and an allowance for the rest of your life. What more could a gel like you possibly want?”
A good deal more than that, Lily thought.
• • •
The following day an unexpected visitor called on Lily. He was a stranger, but the moment Lily set eyes on the tall, spare, white-haired old gentleman whom Emm was about to usher into the drawing room, she knew who he must be. She hurried down the stairs to greet him.
“You must be Edward’s grandfather, Lord Galbraith. The likeness is unmistakable.” To see the elegant old gentleman was to know how Edward would look in forty or fifty years. “How do you do, sir? I’m delighted to meet you.” Her gaze wandered past him, to where Burton was just closing the front door. “Edward isn’t with you?”
“No, he doesn’t know I’m here. The silly fellow thought you’d be too busy making last-minute bridal arrangements to deal with callers, but I’m afraid I couldn’t wait to meet my granddaughter-to-be. Tell me I’m a nuisance and I’ll go away at once.” He smiled down at her, knowing perfectly well she couldn’t tell him any such thing.
Lily laughed. “Of course you’re not. Besides, there’s really not all that much to arrange. My dress is ready, my trousseau is packed and I would much rather spend time getting to know you than anything.”
“Then may an old man request the pleasure of your company for a drive through the park? It’s such a glorious day, it’s a shame to waste it by staying inside.” He glanced at Emm, who nodded her permission.
“Thank you,” Lily said. “I’ll run and fetch my pelisse—won’t be a moment.” She hurried upstairs, a little nervous at being alone with Edward’s only relative. She didn’t know very much about him but could tell from the way Edward had spoken of him once or twice that he was fond of his grandfather. She wanted so much for him to like her.
By the time she returned he’d been joined by Rose and George. He turned to her as she arrived. “These charming young ladies have been telling me you all ride in the park each morning.”
“Most mornings,” Lily agreed. “Not when it’s wet.”
“I’m delighted to hear it. Not enough young ladies ride these days. My dear wife was an excellent rider, and I myself still enjoy the hunt. When you come down to Shields, we’ll take you on some fine rides. It’s the best way—I think the only way—to explore it.” Shields was the family estate. “Shall you and my boy come to Shields on your honeymoon?” He sounded a little hesitant, a little hopeful.
“I’m not sure where exactly Edward’s planned for us to go—he mentioned somewhere called Tremayne Park?” She didn’t really mind where
