The only difference was that now she was a married woman and it was her husband who usually escorted her, not her brother or sister-in-law. And that they were living in a hotel, which she could not get used to. It was very comfortable and luxurious, and anything she wanted was instantly provided, but it didn’t feel homey. The only thing she liked about the hotel was that the only suite that had been available to them was a one-bedroom suite, with one big, very comfortable bed.
Because of it, she and Edward slept together every night. He made love to her, then curled his big hard body around her and went to sleep. It was bliss, sleeping in his arms. And often he’d wake in the morning and make love to her again.
Most days she dropped in at Galbraith House to see the progress of the work. She and Rose had a lovely time visiting furniture showrooms, getting samples of wallpaper, examining rugs and so on. It was all most exciting. Sometimes George went with them, and sometimes Emm.
She talked to Edward about it, but it was clear he wasn’t really interested, that he listened only to please her. Which was nice, but not very encouraging. The house was coming together, and she wanted to share her progress with him.
Edward was increasingly preoccupied. He was away most days and even spent some nights at his club. Because of having to conduct his business, he said. Lily was coming to hate his business, whatever it was.
Do not expect your husband to live in your pocket, as your brother, Ashendon, does with Emmaline. It is unfashionable and quite unseemly. It seemed Aunt Agatha was right.
Still, when he did come in at night, he made love to her so beautifully, there was really nothing for her to feel upset about, she told herself. It was a fact of life: Men’s business was outside the home and women’s arena was the domestic, and the sooner she got used to it the better.
• • •
In the park one day, walking with Rose and George in Hyde Park, Lily heard someone calling her. “Lily! I say, Lady Lily!”
She turned and saw Sylvia Gorrie hurrying toward her, waving. Her heart sank. She didn’t really want to talk to Sylvia.
“Oh, lord, it’s that dratted Sylvia Gorrie,” Rose muttered. “Can’t stand the woman. Her tongue runs on wheels, and none of it interesting. Want me to get rid of her, Lily?” Rose always could at school. But Lily always felt sorry for Sylvia. She tried so hard, yet never seemed to have any friends.
“No, I’ll talk to her.” She couldn’t spend the rest of her life avoiding Sylvia, just because Sylvia’s cousin had abducted her. People weren’t responsible for the actions of their relatives.
Rose shook her head. “Too soft for your own good. Very well, when you’re finished, George and I will be over there with the Peplowes.”
Sylvia came rushing up. “Lady Lily—oh, I must call you Mrs. Galbraith now, must I not? A bit of a comedown, isn’t it, losing your title?”
“No, not at—”
“Well, we’re both ‘Mrs.’ now.” Sylvia linked her arm through Lily’s and began to walk. “Congratulations on your wedding, by the way. I was there, in the church, watching. Very pretty dress.”
“Were you there? I’m sorry, I didn’t notice.”
Sylvia pursed her lips. “Oh, I’m easily overlooked. You weren’t sick at all, were you? Those silly rumors about you running off with my cousin were obviously a ruse—so it was Galbraith all the time?”
“No, it wasn’t—”
“I don’t envy you, you know. He’s handsome enough, but I wouldn’t want a rake for a husband.”
“He’s not a r—”
Sylvia, oblivious as always, rattled on. “No, my husband isn’t much, but at least I don’t have to share him with a mistress. You’re holding up quite well, though, I must say.”
A mistress? “What do you mean?”
Sylvia gasped, then turned a distressed face to Lily. “You mean you didn’t know? I’m sorry, just forget I said anything. It was a mistake, a misunderstanding. Take no notice—”
“But what did you—?”
“Look, isn’t that the former Sally Destry over there, the countess of something now, I forget what. Such a spotty, insignificant little thing she was at school.”
Lily wasn’t to be distracted. “Are you saying my husband has a mistress?”
Sylvia waved to Sally, who didn’t notice. “Quite the fashionable lady is La Destry now. Too grand for her old friends.”
“Sylvia!”
Sylvia dropped her arm. “Look, I’m sorry I mentioned it. I assumed you knew. Put it out of your mind. There’s nothing you can do about it anyway—men will be men, the horrid beasts.”
“But why do you think so?”
Sylvia made an airy gesture. “How does one learn anything? On-dits. But rumor is often wrong, as you and I have good cause to know, and I’m sure this one must be too. After all, you’re so recently married. He can’t be bored with you yet, can he?” She linked her arm through Lily’s again. “Now, let’s just walk and chat and forget about it. I wish I’d never said anything, but you know me, my silly tongue runs away with me at times. My husband is always complaining of it.”
They walked on. Lily thought about what Sylvia had suggested. It wasn’t true. She didn’t believe it. Edward wasn’t bored with her. He came to her bed almost every night.
Almost. But that didn’t mean anything—certainly not that he had a mistress. No, Sylvia had it wrong—again.
Lily had had enough of rumors and counter-rumors. She would clear one thing up at least. She glanced around to see who was nearby, and saw they were well out of earshot of the other fashionable strollers. She stopped, withdrew her arm and turned to face Sylvia.
“You’re wrong about that, and about other things, as well. Your cousin did abduct
