Gail Ranstrom - Unlacing Lilly

Mama put her teacup down with a sharp crack. “Mourning is a most serious matter, madam. I, for one, would never have cut short our mourning for Cora, and—”

Behind her, Olney cleared his throat. Yes, Cora was not supposed to be mentioned. She sighed and looked down at her lap waiting for the inevitable rebuke from the duchess.

“Are you correcting me, Mrs. O’Rourke?”

“Oh, I am certain my mother would do nothing of the sort,” Lilly hastened to explain with a quick glance at her mother.

The duchess nodded. “Well, dear Lillian, the wedding of a future duke takes precedence over some things. The acceptances to the wedding and the supper following have been pouring in. Evidently most of the ton does not think it in poor taste to continue with one’s obligations. There may be a somber tone and a surfeit of drab colors, but there will be a large attendance.”

“I suppose there will be time to mourn the poor queen afterward,” Mama allowed with a conciliatory smile.

Olney’s mother, always conscious of being a duchess and superior in all ways to her son’s future in-laws, sniffed impatiently. “Mrs. O’Rourke, it is unlikely that any but commoners will truly mourn Caroline for long.”

Lilly stiffened. The duchess could not have been clearer in her meaning. Mama was a commoner—one of the unwashed masses who would mourn the queen.

As if sensing her rising protest, Olney’s hand squeezed her shoulder, warning her to silence. “Yes, yes, Mother. But can we not talk of something else? That topic is growing old,” he said.

Lilly sighed gratefully for Olney’s attempt to defuse the situation and glanced at her mother, praying she would let the comment pass. Unfortunately, that was not to be.

Mama drew a deep breath. “If you cannot mourn the queen, surely you can respect the dignity of her station.”

The duchess’s mouth worked but no sound issued forth. Mama had rendered the woman speechless! Oh, dear Lord! She glanced up at Olney again, hoping he would smooth things over, or at least change the subject, but the duke returned from his brandy in the library and provided the needed distraction.

“Rutherford, come join our little group,” the duchess said, still flushed from Mama’s impertinence. “You will never guess. Mrs. O’Rourke is a Queenite. Is that not amusing?”

Lilly shot a glance at her mother to see a deep crimson flush her cheeks. If something were not done quickly, disaster would ensue. What if Olney’s parents withdrew their approval of the marriage? Olney had already told her that they were less than pleased. Still, to insult her mother by suggesting that she supported the scandalous queen! Insult? No, humiliate. She started to rise, but again Olney’s comforting hand on her shoulder held her back.

The Duke of Rutherford took a seat next to the duchess and looked down his long aristocratic nose at her mother. “Is that so? Well, I pray you have enough good sense to keep your opinions to yourself, madam. Yours is not a sentiment common in our circle.”

“I believe your wife misunderstood my mother, your grace. She is not a Queenite.”

“Hmm,” was his only comment to that. “Well, the queen’s body has left English soil to return her to Brunswick today, and we are well quit of her. She has proved to be as much trouble dead as she was alive. Such disgraceful goings-on! And now…well, the timing of her death is damned inconvenient.”

Good heavens. Was the duke so arrogant that he suspected the queen of choosing a date to die that would inconvenience him? Olney cleared his throat and turned the conversation to the impending wedding. Lilly merely sat with a stiff back and allowed the chatter to wash over her as she studied the duke and his duchess.

Graying, and heavy through the bosom, the duchess was also possessed of a pinched mouth for pursing in disapproval. Apart from that, she was fairly unremarkable. It was the duke who really interested her. Dark hair with silver-gray streaks lent him distinction, cold blue eyes regarded all around him with suspicion and superiority, and a rod-stiff posture made him look as if he’d been carved from stone.

Still, there was something vaguely appealing about him. Perhaps the part Olney had inherited. Yes, the similarity was in the looks, not the bearing. Thank heavens! Then Olney would age well and she prayed her influence would save him from the insufferable arrogance displayed by his parents.

“Are we to be treated to the presence of your sister, Miss Eugenia, at the wedding? I must say that I find her absence to be unseemly.” The duchess put her teacup down on the low table. “Why, any ordinary girl would be indulging in the rare opportunity to shine in society. What illness keeps her at home?”

“She took a bit of a spill not long ago,” her mother answered for Lilly. “She knocked her head and has headaches since. Our physician says they will improve given time. And she has promised to stand up with Lilly on her wedding day.”

“Then we shall not meet her until then?”

“There is only tomorrow,” Lilly interjected, praying that was so, and that they would not call off the wedding now that they knew how “unsuitable” the common O’Rourkes were. “I shall be needing her to assist me in preparing to remove to Olney’s apartments here.” In truth, she did not need her sister’s help; she only wanted to spare her the duchess’s scrutiny and judgment.

At the moment, she only wanted to end the uncomfortable situation and the possibility of further disaster. Alas, the duchess had one last reminder of the O’Rourke’s unsuitability.

“Well.” She sighed deeply as she put her cup down. “Rutherford and I are just relieved Edward has finally proposed to someone. We began to despair of ever seeing grandchildren.”

“Though we could have wished for someone…”

“Exactly like you, my dear,” Olney finished for his father.

But it was too late. The unspoken words more suitable hung in the air like a dark cloud. She stood and gave the Duke of Rutherford the barest possible curtsy. “Thank you for a most enjoyable evening, but Mama and I should be returning home. I do not want to come to the wedding exhausted.”

“If,” the duchess emphasized with a glance at Mama, “there is to be a wedding.”

Oh! What else could possibly go wrong? Surely Olney’s parents would not withdraw their consent? A cold dread invaded Lilly’s vitals.

“All I asked was that you locate where the O’Rourkes from Belfast are living.” Devlin took a breath and tried to curb his impatience. He was never at his best in the morning.

Jack Higgins sat across the desk from him, his rugged face furrowed in concern. “And I did. But they are gone.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Jack. Where in blazes would the family go when Miss O’Rourke is about to marry a marquis?”

“That appears to be the problem. The logical conclusion was that they had removed to other lodgings. But I was stymied. London is too large to go knocking door to door.”

“Are you certain they are gone?”

“When there was no sign of a light or life within, I picked the lock on the garden door. They must have let the place furnished because all the furniture remains, but there’s not a single personal item to be found.”

Devlin gritted his teeth. No, damn it! He was too close to let this opportunity slip away. He had to find her. Had to know where she would be at the precise moment he was ready. “The neighbors would know something.”

“I already queried them, Farrell. Let me tell you, they were not pleased to be called from their beds at midnight to answer questions about the O’Rourkes.”

“What did you tell them?”