Mary Balogh - One Night for Love

He was eager to take Lily to a jeweler's. He knew that the locket was precious to her and he wanted to help restore it to her whole so that she could wear it again. That was his main motive, he was quite sure. There was also, of course, the excuse the expedition would give him to spend some time with Lily again.

But the following day would not do at all, Elizabeth informed him during tea on the afternoon he had brought Doyle's pack. Lily would be busy all morning with her lessons, and there was the Fogies' garden party in the afternoon. She would need Lily to attend her for that occasion. And the following day there were the morning lessons and a dancing lesson during the afternoon. It was also to be the day of the week on which Elizabeth was regularly at home to callers, and this week she would have Lily sit with her and help her entertain.

The best Neville could do, since he had not received an invitation to the garden party, was call at Elizabeth's the following afternoon and sit drinking tea and conversing with a group of visitors that did not include Lily. It was not until the next afternoon that she was finally declared free to go with him to a jeweler's. And even then Elizabeth would have accompanied them if he had not been able to assure her that he would be taking an open carriage with his groom up behind.

Elizabeth, of course, had always been a high stickler. But she was treating Lily more like a treasured ward than a paid companion. It was frustrating, but Neville found himself glad of it too. All too many young blades had called for tea at Elizabeth's with no other apparent reason for doing so than a wish to ogle Lily.

The sun was shining again at last on the appointed afternoon, and Lily was wearing an attractive and extremely fashionable green dress with a straw bonnet. Neville handed her into his phaeton and took his seat beside her before taking the ribbons from his groom's hand and waiting for the boy to clamber up behind.

"Tell me the truth, Lily," he said as they drove in the direction of Bond Street. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

She considered her answer. "I feel… at ease," she said. "I feel that I can now mingle with almost any company in which I happen to find myself during the rest of my life. It is a good feeling, my lord."

"And are you learning all you wished to learn?" he asked her.

"By no means," she said. "I doubt one can ever learn or even be in the process of learning all the fascinating facts and mysteries of life. I am learning far more slowly than I expected. I can barely read and yet I have been having lessons for over a month. Yet every day when I become frustrated and unhappy with myself I remember how I have always yearned for knowledge and skills. And I remember how very fortunate I am to be able to satisfy my yearning at last."

He sighed. "I did not want you to change, Lily," he said. "I liked you just as you were. But when I told Elizabeth that, she pointed out to me how selfish I was being. And I must admit that it is a delight to see you at your ease, as you put it." He smiled across at her. "And I do like your hair that way."

"So do I." She smiled gaily and raised one gloved hand in greeting to two ladies who were emerging from a milliner's shop. At the same moment George Brigham, who was passing on the street, touched the brim of his hat with his cane and inclined his head to Lily.

She was looking like and she was being treated like a young lady of ton , Neville realized. Her own courage and Elizabeth's encouragement had brought her out of hiding and she was at ease. He would have sheltered and protected her and made her forever uncomfortable and unhappy. It was not a pleasant admission to make to himself.

He escorted her into the shop of the jeweler he had selected as the best and explained that Miss Doyle would rather not leave her locket to be collected later, but would like to watch as the chain was mended. And so they were given seats, and the precious piece did not leave her sight.

The locket was gold. So was the chain. It was not the sort of trinket one would expect to have been within the means of a soldier who had not even had a sergeant's pay when it had been purchased. Neville had seen it dozens of times about Lily's neck. It had seemed a part of her. It had never occurred to him to wonder about it. There was some sort of intricate design on the outside of the locket, but he did not attempt to lean close enough to examine it. For some reason Lily guarded its privacy. He would respect her wishes.

He paid for the work when it was finished, and she put the locket carefully back inside her reticule.

"You are not going to wear it?" he asked her as they left the shop.

"I have not worn it for so long," she said, "that I wish to choose some special occasion on which to wear it for the first time again. I do not know when. I will think of the right time."

"Let me take you to Gunter's for an ice?" he asked.

She bit her lip, but she nodded. "Yes," she said. "Thank you, my lord. And thank you for having my locket mended. You are very kind."

He stopped on the pavement with her and bent his head closer to hers so that he could look into her eyes.

"Lily," he said, "do not deceive yourself into thinking I acted from kindness. I have been selfish again. When you wear the locket once more, I hope—indeed, I believe-that you will remember not only your mama and papa but also the man who will always consider himself your husband."

"Oh, don't," she said quickly, gazing back at him with wide blue eyes.

"But you will remember that, will you not?" he said.

She did not answer him, but she nodded almost imperceptibly after a few moments.

***

Lily had been dreading the afternoon. She had prayed that Elizabeth would go with them. After the question of the carriage had been settled, she had prayed for rain so that he would be forced to bring a closed carriage and Elizabeth would have to accompany them after all.

She was so very weak. It was so difficult to see him, to speak with him, to be alone with him and not reveal her true feelings to him. It was an agony to know that these memories of him would cling about her with almost unbearable pain once he had gone home again. She did not need more memories. She already had far too many.

But in the event she was finding the afternoon quite magical. The weather had turned summery again after several days of gloom and intermittent rain. Riding in an open phaeton and feeling the warmth of the sun and seeing its brightness gave a wonderful lift to her spirits. So did his company.

But it was something else that created the magic. An idea had struck her and excited her, and she could not help but be buoyed up by it even though she knew she must return home and think carefully about it before in any way acting upon it.

She had refused to marry Neville because she was uncomfortable in his world and could never fit the role of countess. She had refused for her own sake and for his too—eventually he would have been made intensely unhappy by her inadequacy.

But the realization had come that she would no longer be uncomfortable or unfit in his world. Oh, she had not been transformed in little over a month. She still had a vast long way to go before she could function like a lady who had been born and raised to the life. But she was on the way. And slow and difficult as some of the lessons were, she knew that she could master them. She would never be a lady by birth, and there were those in the beau monde who would always hold that against her, but she would be a lady by training. And there were plenty of people—people she liked and respected—who would accept her.

What was to stop her, then, from marrying Neville again ?