“No apologies?” Augusta barked. “No, don’t make them now that I have suggested you should. There is also nothing attractive about forced apologies of insincerity.” She huffed and turned on her heel, taking Lily’s arm. “I despair in helping them,” she told her in an undertone as they began to walk again. “I never had difficulty with you or Rosalind.”
Lily smiled sadly and patted her aunt’s hand. “The girls are younger than Rosalind and I were when we came to stay with you.”
Augusta sniffed dismissively. “They are younger in nature than you ever were and have a distinct lack of good nature that you perfected. I ought to have appreciated you more, my dear, and for that, I apologize.”
“No need,” Lily assured her with all the gentleness in her heart. “And I have no doubt the girls will gain more sense the longer they remain with you, observing your own nature and taste, and seeing for themselves a better example than they would have found at home.”
“Of that, there can be no question.” Augusta heaved an almost dramatic sigh. “I’d send them home as punishment if I did not think they would return to me next Season far worse.”
It was a valid fear, and Lily could not say that it should not be taken seriously. She had only returned to the family home in Kent once since her marriage, and there was no need to do so again unless someone was about to get married or about to be buried.
This was one area on which she and Thomas were always united, ironically enough.
He’d asked her father for her hand, and then after the wedding, almost never spoke with him.
Small mercies.
“So, what truly troubles you?” her aunt asked, tugging at her arm.
A wry smile made its way to Lily’s lips. “My husband, as it happens.”
Augusta looked at her, almost startled, then laughed with a warmth that spoke of understanding. “You and many other women in London. Husbands do try us so. What is your complaint against Granger?”
“No complaint, as such,” Lily said slowly, wanting to be careful with her words and cautious in her statements. “Only thoughts.”
“Such as?”
Lily sighed, more to herself than to her aunt. “You know we are both reserved, particularly with each other. We are not fond of London, either of us, but he wanted to come and specifically said that he wanted me to come as well. Yet nothing has changed between us. He keeps his distance, and I say very little. We have gone about doing our usual activities, and then when we spend time together, it’s as if we barely know each other.”
“And do you know each other?”
“After five years of marriage, and years of acquaintance beforehand, I should hope so.”
“But you’ve just said you are reserved with each other and that nothing has changed. If he keeps his distance, and you say little, how can you know each other?” Augusta tutted, her still dark hair bobbing with her steps. “Forgive me, child, but I rather think you know each other less now than you did when you wed.”
Lily bit down on her lip as she considered that. “You may be right.”
“And besides,” Augusta said with a sudden toss of her head, “there are many comfortable marriages that have minimal conversation and no alterations, yet you do not see any of those wives fussing and troubled.”
“Do they love their husbands?” Lily snapped, looking out over the green of the park, envying any happy couple she saw. “Do they take every glimpse of affection from their husbands as a sign that he might be coming to love them? Are they disappointed every time they see their husband return to the proper, staid, simple relationship that has defined their entire marriage?”
Emma made a juvenile whining sound behind her. “Lily! Whatever you are saying, say it quietly! It is unseemly to draw attention!”
Augusta glared over her shoulder at her. “When you have found a modicum of decorum, you can advise your sister. Now hush!” She returned her attention to Lily, her plump face wreathed in sympathy. “Child, I had no idea. How do you bear it?”
Lily shook her head, tears burning at the edges of her eyes, though she refused to let them fall. “I pretend that I do not care. I try to remove myself from my emotions. I throw myself into tasks that will prevent me from thinking or feeling. I thought I was past hoping for him, but when he asked me to come to London with him, I thought… I thought…”
“Darling, I think you had best stop waiting around and start doing something about this.”
If her aunt had told her the sky was glowing red, Lily could not have been more surprised. How she continued to put one foot in front of the other and manage this walk was beyond her, but she somehow managed not to fall on her face while gaping at her aunt. “I must do what?”
“Something,” her aunt said again. “Anything, really. You’re already married to the man, so there are no rules of etiquette that must be followed to gain his affection. Why must you wait around for him to decide he wants to like you? If I waited for my husband to do something, I’d be with the angels in heaven before it got done.”
Lily coughed a surprise laugh. “I wouldn’t have thought my uncle so difficult in that regard.”
“He’s a man, darling. They’re all difficult in some way.”
There was no helping the giggles that erupted from Lily in response to that, and she covered her mouth in a vain attempt to contain them.
Augusta smiled at Lily’s laughter. “You wish for your marriage to be different, yes?”
Lily nodded, still giggling. “With Thomas, yes, I do.”
“Well, I was hardly going to suggest you find a new bridegroom, Lily,” her aunt protested, her cheeks coloring faintly as she averted her eyes. “Have
