‘Maggie warned me about the drunkenness and we planned how to tip our champagne and punch into the potted plants. My reason for coming wasn’t to be dragged into a dark corner by an oaf, but to indulge in a little risqué conversation. Be flattered by admirers who felt free to shower me with compliments instead of discussing the weather, none of which is allowed to happen normally.’ She patted his cheek. ‘No man, except one I love, would have led me to a bedroom. With you, I was more than willing.’
‘Are you saying that --’ The door rattled and the knob turned as someone tried to gain entry. He put a finger to Lillian’s mouth, silently urging her to remain silent. ‘Go away,’ he yelled. ‘This room is occupied.’ Muffled voices and shuffling feet had them holding their breath but after a few tense seconds a woman tittered and hurried footsteps told them the couple have moved along the corridor.
‘Hurry, Lillian. We have to leave.’
He tucked in his shirt, helped Lillian tidy her appearance, and bundled her hair under the scarf. Satisfied that she was as disguised as possible, he put his ear to the door and listened. Hearing no sounds, he moved the dresser and turned the key. Keeping Lillian behind him, he eased the door open and stepped into the corridor.
‘Stay beside me and no matter who we encounter, don’t speak.’
‘But I need to tell Maggie where I am.’
He groaned. ‘All right but I’ll look for her and you’ll stay out of sight.’
She nodded and they hurried down the staircase, stopping twice to pull Lillian into an embrace and shield her face when two couples raced, hand in hand, up the stairs. His nerves were stretched to breaking by the time they re-entered the ballroom, so he focused on finding a hiding place for Lillian while he located Maggie and urged her to leave with them. However, Lillian would leave in his carriage and not Maggie’s, and he’d brook no arguments. Some of his anger was directed towards Maggie, who’d stupidly encouraged Lillian to take unacceptable risks. The inequality of rules for the upper ten thousand of Britain meant that men pleased themselves in where they went and with whom, but women never had the same freedom or opportunities so he understood that both women yearned for an evening or two where they could interact with men on a somewhat equal footing.
But in Brent’s mind, their need to escape the confines of widowhood didn’t justify the risks they’d taken and he was certain he and Lillian would argue about this for a long time. Too bad, because he’d never accept a situation that threatened her well-being or her security. Pulling aside the heavy curtains covering a window niche, he guided Lillian onto the bench seat and instructed her to stay hidden and stay silent. He gave her a brief peck on the lips and stiffened his spine, girding himself to re-enter the fray in the hot and crowded ballroom.
Thirty minutes later, he’d informed Michael he was leaving, and with whom, and had found Maggie. Irritated beyond bearing, he took no time in leading her aside and updating her on the situation. ‘We’re leaving, all of us. Lillian’s waiting.’
Maggie opened her mouth to say something but he cut her off. ‘No arguments. I’m out of patience with Browning and all of this.’ He waved his hand at the milling men and women and the high-pitched laughs that now grated on his nerves. Maggie obviously grasped his seriousness because she simply nodded, ensured that her mask was firmly in place, and walked directly towards the entrance.
‘Fetch Lillian and I’ll meet you at my carriage.’
‘We’ll see you on your way home, wherever that may be, but I will escort Lillian to her house.’
Maggie smiled and raised a brow. ‘To her house, or to yours?’
Brent stiffened. ‘That’s none of your business.’
She laughed. ‘I think that answers my question, and I’m pleased. Glad that lovely Lillian finally gets her night with the man of her dreams.’
‘Me-e-e. Man of her dreams?’ She’d flustered him, and she knew it.
She laughed again and waved him away. ‘Go. Fetch Lillian.’
As he hurried away, he shook his head, certain he’d never understand the thinking of women. Even Lillian’s ideas and comments often surprised him, yet more times than not he put her suggestions into practice, especially farm improvements.
Twenty minutes later, Brent stood with Lillian as Maggie’s footman helped her into a plain black carriage. “Good night,’ Lillian said, hugging her friend. ‘And thank you for a wonderful experience.’
Brent groaned. ‘An experience never to be repeated. Agreed?’ Maggie laughed again and waved to them through the window, while Lillian nodded but stayed silent. He put his hands on his hips and asked again, ‘Do you agree?’
“Yes, my lord,’ Lillian agreed with blatantly false humility.
Behind him, Brent heard Michael chuckle. He swung to face him. ‘Why are you listening to private conversations and what were you and Maggie talking about when we came outside?’
To his annoyance, Michael glanced at Lillian before giving a nonchalant shrug which only helped convince Brent that his friend was hiding something. But what?
‘Now that I think about it, you seemed rather familiar with Maggie. Do you know who she is?’
Michael shrugged again. ‘Perhaps.’
Brent turned towards Lillian. “Is Maggie her real name?’