Some couples enjoyed such interactions. Usually couples who were in love and happily married, but she’d heard stranger things in the gossiping corners of London.
Lily’s cheeks colored as she entered Rainford Park just before a light rain began to fall. It would not do for her to dwell on such a topic when her husband would be asking her about the tenants in a few short hours. It would certainly reappear in her mind when he did so, which would make her flush, which could concern him, and the poor local physician would be sent for. All for a case of mortification.
“Good day, madam,” greeted Phillips, their expressionless butler. “I trust your outings were satisfactory?”
“Yes, Phillips, thank you.” Lily smiled to herself at the irony of her butler taking a greater interest in her day and activities than her husband. “Do you know if Mr. Granger has given instruction for dinner?”
“He did not, madam,” reported the butler. “Mr. Granger went out shortly after you did yourself, I believe. Mrs. Gilbert has been conferring with Cook as to the menu, but I daresay either of them would be pleased to have your input.”
Lily waved a hand dismissively, her smile turning more genuine. “I have no qualms at all with their decisions, whatever they may be. If they wish for my input, I’ll give it by all means, but I’ll not dictate the details needlessly.” She stripped off her gloves and removed her bonnet, handing it to the nearest maid. “I think I’ll retire to the music room for a time. If anyone should need me, I’ll be available there.”
“Very good, madam.”
Patting the back of her hair in an absent gesture, Lily moved out of the foyer deeper into the house, turning toward the western wing where the music room was situated. It might have seemed a peculiar location for a music room, given the grand windows and door to the terrace there, but it was a room clearly designed for entertaining and musical performances. Rainford Park had never hosted any such thing while she had been in residence, but perhaps someday it would.
And there was a remarkable beauty and peace in playing the pianoforte with such a view of nature before her.
She sat at her beloved instrument, sighing with relief for the familiarity of doing so, then started to play. Gently at first, a simple lullaby she had memorized as a child that always seemed to remind her fingers of the way of things, to wake them up, and to prepare them for the practice ahead. It also brought Lily’s heart back to the joy of her music and the comfort she had found in it even before her marriage. It had saved her during her parents’ dismissal of her and her sisters, through the nerves of her Seasons in London, through her budding feelings for a certain gentleman…
Music had been the only constant in her life.
Well, besides her sisters.
Even then, the only real constant was Rosalind. Emma and Eloise had finally been given permission to go out into Society and had taken up residence with Aunt Augusta, just as Lily and Rosalind had done in their turn, and so they couldn’t be particularly bothered to care about anything else. They’d always been a bit more like their snobbish parents than Lily or Rosalind would have liked, but there was no changing the examples one looked upon in their life.
Aunt Augusta had even invited Lily to come to London this Season and witness her sisters as they triumphed, but the invite held no interest. Thomas did not enjoy London in particular, apart from business, and Lily dreaded moving in Society, trying when there was so little to enjoy. Her friends would be there, she had no doubt, but Marianne Gerrard had a passel of children at her heels, and Gemma, Lady Blackmoor, was soon to follow suit, having just delivered her second.
There were no friends remaining that did not have children, and the reminder that Lily did not was isolating. Not that anyone would have truly cut her out, but when the conversations tended to veer toward the topics of children and parenting, Lily had very little to offer but sympathy. When she wanted so desperately to contribute to the conversation, to understand the situation herself, being set apart from it was torment.
Even Mary Hamilton had born a set of twins not long ago after years of being thought barren. Lily didn’t know if she would be barren. She didn’t know if she was especially fertile, either. She wanted to know. Wanted a child. Wanted several, if Thomas would agree to it, and the longer they waited, the more the chances of it never happening increased.
Would children improve her feelings about her life? She could lose herself in the care and raising of them, find fulfillment in their rearing and education, and know in her heart that there were at least a few people in her home who loved her unconditionally. She could shower them with affection without shame, share all the love in her heart with them, and see that they knew they were loved beyond measure.
Surely there would be joy in that.
Would Thomas be an absent father, as he had been an absent husband? He had been raised by attentive, polite parents and had a good rapport with his two siblings. She wouldn’t have thought he’d be aloof in parenting children, but it could very well depend on Lily’s presence and influence.
Somehow, she had displeased him. She wasn’t sure when or how, or what had been the cause, but it was the only feasible explanation to his sudden change upon
