Three Nights with a Scoundrel (Stud Club #3)

Julian obliged, setting the birdcage on the floor and opening the door. The bird didn’t move.

Lily kneeled before the open cage, beckoning the reluctant bird. “Come now, pet. Take a turn about the room.”

“Guilty, guilty!” the agitated parrot squawked. “Thank you, that will be all!”

“Perhaps he’s timid in a new place,” Julian suggested, helping Lily to her feet.

“Perhaps. We’ll give him time.” She turned a slow circle in place, surveying the exotic flora. A laugh bubbled from her throat. “All these lilies. They don’t have much imagination, do they?”

“Perhaps not. But they do have unquestionably good taste.” Julian reached for a salver heaped with calling cards and hand-delivered notes.

She sifted through the correspondence. “I can’t imagine how word got around so quickly.”

“Can’t you?”

Julian knew how word had got around so quickly. He’d spread it. After leaving Morland House last night, he’d taken those lieutenants to every gentlemen’s club, gaming hall, and opera house in London, all the while leading them in a voluble discourse on the inexhaustible topic of Lady Lily Chatwick. Her beauty, elegance, virtue, good humor, and, most important of all, sudden availability. “It’s just as I said. The gentlemen are falling over one another to court you.”

“I’m not sure they’re truly interested in that. After so much time out of circulation, I suspect I’m more of a curiosity at this point.”

Julian didn’t know how to argue, because he suspected it was partly true. But once everyone had the chance to see how intelligent, lovely, and personable Lily was, idle curiosity would become keen pursuit.

“You should give some thought to the invitations.” He plucked a familiar-looking envelope from the heap. “Start with this one.”

She opened it and scanned the contents quickly. “An assembly next week at the Shelton rooms, hosted by Lord and Lady Ainsley. You’ve already heard of it?”

He nodded. His own invitation had arrived weeks ago. The assembly would be the last major social event before most families adjourned to the countryside for Christmas. Everyone who was anyone in London would be there, and it was unquestionably Lily’s best opportunity to encourage suitors before the end of the year.

“You should attend,” he said. “Most definitely.”

Her eyebrows arched. “I should attend? Don’t you mean to say ‘we’?”

“Yes,” he forced himself to say. “Yes, of course. We should attend.” Why was it so hard to say that word? Putting the two of them in one syllable … it just seemed imprudent, somehow. In the same way he should avoid being mashed together with Lily in a small, dark, enclosed space. No telling what would happen.

“Oh, Julian, look out!”

He ducked instinctively, an instant before the parrot swooped over his head.

“Oh, Julian,” the bird squawked, coming to land on an unused candelabra. “Oh, Juuuuuulian.”

He glared at it. “Don’t ‘Oh, Julian’ me.”

Lily laughed. “I think I will keep him, if I may. He reminds me of you. Handsome, ruffled. Decked out in bright colors. A mimic.” Her eyes shone with merriment. “Perhaps I’ll name him after you, since he likes the sound of it so much.”

Julian couldn’t even form a response to that. No polite response, at least.

“The assembly,” he said, reaching out to tap the invitation. “We should attend.”

Her expression went pensive. “It’s been so long since I’ve danced. I don’t know if I remember the steps.”

“You needn’t dance at all if you don’t care to. You can always use mourning as an excuse. I’ll ward off anyone who pressures you.”

“There you go again. I don’t want to be excused, or guarded. I want to dance.” Her chin took on a decisive set. “Even if only for a few sets. Last night, I was unprepared for that party. So overwhelmed. This time, I want to show everyone I’m equal to the occasion.”

“So I see.” More than that, he sensed, she wanted to prove it to herself.

Of course she did. And why shouldn’t she? Just like the bird currently swooping from candelabra to chandelier, Lily had too long been caged by habit and grief.

She had a loving, generous soul, and she was not a woman formed for a life of solitude. But by pressing the idea of matrimony so strenuously, Julian had only given her more reason to build up a defense. If he truly wanted to be her friend, to see her settled in a happy, healthy future—to see her married—he needed to stop shielding her and start empowering her. Lily didn’t need protection from him. What she needed was confidence. Her chance to soar.

If he could give her that, Julian thought it just might be the truest accomplishment of his life.

She put her hands on her hips, scolding the parrot through a smile. “Come down from there, you cheeky thing!” Turning to Julian, she asked, “Did I leave the walnuts in the study?”

He nodded. “Shall I send a servant for them?”