“Yes, Mama?”
“Fetch the light blue striped muslin,” Aunt said, “and the sapphires, I should think. Oh, and the matching parasol and gloves. We shall be out of doors this afternoon.”
Liliana could hear Penelope rummaging through the armoire. “Surely tomorrow will be soon enough for me to join the group,” she argued, swiping at the brush. She’d worry about how to get out of tomorrow’s activity tomorrow.
“Stratford inquired about you today,” Aunt Eliza said, her lips firming. “That means you are on his mind, but you won’t be for long if we don’t get you down there. By tomorrow, this afternoon even, another could have taken your place. Particularly Emily Morton,” Aunt Eliza murmured thoughtfully, tapping a finger to her lip. “Yes, she is quite persistent and rather lovely.”
Liliana caught Penelope trying to contain a sympathetic smile and failing miserably.
Mrs. Means swept Liliana’s curls into an artful coiffure, efficiently pinning it into place.
Liliana tried one last tack. “I’m sure you make too much of Stratford’s interest, Aunt. I’d wager he was only showing a host’s concern over the welfare of an ill guest.”
“Young ladies don’t wager,” Aunt scolded automatically, then flashed a triumphant smile. “Yet you would lose. The Northumb girl did not show this morning, either, and I heard nothing of Stratford asking after her.” Aunt Eliza reached out and pinched Liliana’s cheeks. “I don’t know how you did it, but you’ve definitely caught his interest, gel,” she said slyly.
Liliana’s fake illness quickly became real. This was not going at all how she’d planned.
In short time, she was stuffed into the full-skirted round dress. Aunt Eliza slapped a blue parasol into Liliana’s hands as she was pushed toward the door. She could see no way out.
Fine. She’d give in—for now. She needed to determine exactly why Stratford was suddenly interested in her. And when Aunt Eliza wasn’t watching, she’d do everything she could to ensure she lost the earl’s attentions.
Only then could she resume her search.
* * *
Aunt Eliza hurried Liliana and Penelope down wide stone stairs and through a small courtyard surrounded by a living wall of hawthorn. A break in the tiny lacework flowers opened to an expanse of parkland just east of the house, where the tinkle of laughter and glassware rang on the air.
As they breached the hedgerow, Aunt slowed their pace to a leisurely stroll. Liliana scanned the assembly. It seemed the entire household had turned out for the al fresco event, along with several new faces. Everyone smiled easily into the pleasant sunshine. Round tables covered with flowing linens and fresh flowers were scattered beneath a grove of trees.
Chaises had been brought out as well, and several matrons had taken their spots in the shade, but the majority of guests milled around an open field to Liliana’s right. Ladies in their lavender and pink and pale yellow dresses stood out on the green lawn like so many Easter eggs collected in a giant’s basket. They gathered in small groups, twirling their matching lacy parasols, gossiping. They flirted coyly with passing gentlemen while angling for position to watch what appeared to be a sporting exhibition.
Liliana’s steps faltered, overwhelmed as she was by the conviction that she didn’t belong in this world. She’d never wanted to be part of these impractical pursuits, this superficial society that Aunt Eliza forever pushed upon her. Her father had understood that, had encouraged her to follow where her mind would lead. Whereas Aunt Eliza had always maintained that Liliana would outgrow her silly love of medicinal science and settle into a life more appropriate for a young lady. A fierce ache pierced her for all that she’d lost.
“Come along,” Aunt said, reaching back to capture Liliana’s elbow. “We’re just in time.” Aunt wove them through the crowd with the expertise of one long accustomed to navigating a crush. When they emerged from the pastel swarm, Liliana caught her first glimpse of Stratford since his shocking “lesson” in propriety.
Discomfiting ripples of heat flowed from her middle straight through to the tips of her fingers and toes. Odd, but it was as if she could feel him against her even now. She hadn’t been surprised by the curiosity that had gripped her when she’d given in to his kisses—after all, she was nothing if not inquisitive. Any good scientist worth her sodium chloride was.
But what still heightened her every nerve until she thought she’d go mad with wanting? What elemental force made her physically desire a man whom she not only did not know but could never trust?
Chemistry. That’s what they called it, but chemistry unlike any she’d ever studied. As blood rushed to her cheeks, she drew a calming breath, trying to force the infernal blush to subside. Stratford didn’t deserve the satisfaction of knowing he unnerved her.
He stood with several gentlemen, conversing casually, a half smile playing about his lips. Like a handful of other men, Stratford wore no coat and was instead dressed to compete in sport. He’d donned tawny breeches and a plain cotton shirt that opened at the throat to reveal the strong column of his neck. Liliana swallowed in time with him, her eyes fixed upon the bob of his Adam’s apple.
She flushed, feeling foolish. Ninny. One couldn’t expect men to battle one another frilled up in cravats, now, could one?
The bright of day did little to diminish Stratford’s darkly sensuous appeal. Why should he, of all men, draw her so? Whatever the reason, she couldn’t deny that Stratford affected her as no other had. Although she longed to scorn him after last night’s humiliation, a part of her yearned to explore this appalling attraction, and that was as impossible as it was shameful.
Aunt Eliza stopped as she, Liliana and Penelope neared the marked field—directly in Stratford’s line of sight. Very craftily done, indeed. Aunt was rewarded when Stratford pulled away from his companions and started toward them.
Liliana tamped down her anxiety. He hadn’t informed Aunt Eliza that he’d caught Liliana out of her room last night, but would he now? Was he only waiting to dress her down in public to complete her lesson? Her gaze latched onto his face, searching for any indication of his thoughts, but his chiseled features revealed nothing.
“Good afternoon, Lady Belsham, Miss Belsham,” Stratford greeted as he joined them. He insinuated himself right next to Liliana.
She shifted uncomfortably, his presence overwhelming and subtly charged. Liliana caught a hint of mint—wintergreen, and stronger than it had been last night.
“Miss Claremont,” he said, turning his vivid blue eyes to her. “I am relieved to see you looking so well.” He gave her a practiced smile. “My compliments on your fetching ensemble.” He lowered his head, his voice rumbling against her ear. “Much better suited for catching a husband than your dress of last night,” he murmured.
His warm breath brushed against Liliana’s neck. Her ears turned hot with a mixture of confusion and rising ire. Did he mean he knew she wasn’t hunting a husband last night in her drab, dark attire? Or did he mean he still thought her a husband hunter, only much improved by a wardrobe change? Either way, she should be offended. She opened her mouth to set him down, but Aunt Eliza’s encouraging smile stopped her. “Why, thank you, my lord,” Liliana said sweetly, loud enough for Aunt to hear. “It’s so kind of you to notice.” She turned to Stratford and muttered low, “Too bad your manners don’t extend to private company.”