Mary had laid out a pink floral silk and matching shoes. Clara approved of the choice and helped Lilian to dress.
“Is there a longer style I might wear tonight, Clara?” Unravelling the plait she had started, Lilian snatched up the already heated curling-tongs and made gentle cascades of curls. “Something like this?” she asked, hoping Clara would approve.
“That could work, m’lady.” Clara gently worked the rest of the hair into torrents of ringlets and then, pulled back the sides in loose braids and finished it with jewelled pins. “Ye look lovely, my lady,” Clara offered.
She had to admit, she felt beautiful. “Thank you, Clara, my hair is perfect,” she enthused, her tone light as she forgot her now customary diffidence. “I think I am ready.”
“You surely are, m’lady. Lord Harlow will have a harder time than usual not to stare at you.” Her maid babbled on about her hair while Lilian had already begun to think about dinner. Winston helped her downstairs to the first floor.
Lord Harlow gave an elegant bow when he saw her. “You are a vision, my lady. May I escort you in to dinner?” Leaning sideways, he whispered softly in her ear.
“I would like that,” she replied, happy to see him at last, and thankful that her handicap made no difference to him. Winston stepped aside, allowing Harlow to push her chair into the dining room. Her parents, sister and the Viscount walked ahead of them while Lord Worsley walked alongside.
“We appreciate Lord Avalon’s invitation to stay. The accommodations are far better than the fare we received at the inn,” he said.
“We are happy to welcome you, my lord,” she responded. Lilian noticed she and her sister had been placed across the table from the gentlemen, making it very hard not to stare in their direction.
The first course of turtle soup was removed, but before the servants could carry in the next dishes, her father rose from his chair and sounded his spoon on his wine glass. It had always been his preference as a dinner bell.
“We are very fortunate this evening to have with us Lord Harlow, Lord Worsley and Lord Yarstone. As to that,” he paused, smiling happily, “it is my great pleasure to announce the betrothal of my daughter, Lady Lydia DeLacey, to Richard, Viscount Yarstone.”
Everyone responded with felicitations of good cheer, clinking their glasses together.
Lilian caught Harlow’s eye as her father finished welcoming Viscount Yarstone, and he inclined his head in her direction as the toast proceeded. She was genuinely happy for her sister. Even her own, annoying, green-eyed monster had vanished. There would be a buzz over the upcoming nuptials throughout the village, plus it would give Mama a new focus. The rest of the evening feast comprised plates of fish, boiled meats, mashed potatoes, and a variety of oysters, vegetables and sweetbreads. Desserts filled a small sideboard at the end of the room. With the presence of their guests, Lilian’s interest in dinner increased. With the happy news, there was no other focal point for the company. Even Lilian, between bites of food and snippets of conversation, found herself drawn into the preparations for Lydia’s wedding and what role she would play in the organization.
When the meal ended, Lord Worsley, Viscount Yarstone and her father retired to his study for the customary glass of port. She was about to join her sister and mother in the parlour, when Harlow approached her and asked to spend a few minutes with her. With Mama’s permission, they moved outside on to the veranda, which opened from the dining room, leaving the doors wide open for chaperonage.
The veranda had a smooth stone floor and thick white columns to the ceiling which were interconnected by white wooden railings. Steps led to her mother’s garden; filled with colourful flowering bushes, trellises of pink and red roses covered the white fencing that surrounded it. It was a warm evening making Lilian miss even more the ability to walk among the lovely plantings.
Harlow grabbed a white wooden chair that had been resting next to the wall of the house and placed it at a slight angle to Lilian’s wheel-chair before taking a seat.
“It was kind of your parents to invite Max and me to stay. Admittedly, it is much more comfortable than the accommodations at the inn in town.” A grin pulled at his lips. “I think we are alone, and I do not know how long that will last.” He leaned over and brushed her lips softly before then covering her mouth with his own. His tongue tapped on her lips, urging them open.
Lilian tasted the wine which still lingered on his lips and quickly warmed to his kiss. She opened her mouth slightly, and his tongue took advantage, invading the cavity, teasing and caressing her own. Her body began to heat in response. She closed her eyes, allowing her mind to soar, carried by the delicious scent of bay leaf and bergamot, the fragrance of him she had memorized since the day of her accident. I have wanted this all evening. His scent pulled her in, and she kissed him back, her arms softly resting about his neck.
Booted feet walking across the wooden floor of the dining room roused them from the kiss and she pulled back, attempting to regain her composure and slow down her own ragged breathing before they were discovered.
“You look perfectly presentable,” he whispered, sitting straighter in his own chair.
Viscount Yarstone and her sister appeared in the doorway. “Would you mind if we joined you?” Yarstone asked.
“Not at all. Please do,” Harlow replied. He stood and offered her sister the chair.
“That is very kind,” Lydia acknowledged, “but I enjoy leaning over the railings—dreadfully indecorous of me, I know! The scent of honeysuckle is one of my favourites and the perfume is particularly lovely at night.”
“Felicitations to the both of you
