Loving Lily (Fair Cyprians of London 6)

The reflection that her death would cause no great lament in the hearts of anyone else, and that in fact it was likely to go completely unnoticed except to the pair who had found a use for her, and which she had no doubt gilded their pockets nicely, was painful, as she crawled down into the depths of the room.

A few moments later, the trapdoor above her opened again and a dim light penetrated. Mr Montpelier eased his way down, like a spider, until he stood before her, brandishing a lantern as he declared, “Magnificent! They were entranced! They loved you, Mrs Eustace! Well done!”

Lily blinked in the light. “Are they going? Can I go upstairs yet? It’s very cold down here.”

“Nearly, nearly. Mrs Moore excelled in building up to the great reveal.” His eyes glittered with satisfaction. “They were full of doubt when she sat them down. Said they were non-believers, but it was Mrs Bennet who persuaded them.”

Lily had never seen Mr Montpelier in such an expansive mood. While she leaned against the steps and shivered, he afforded her a running commentary on the method by which respectable Mrs Bennet had engaged Lord Lambton

’s sisters in conversation, persuading them that she knew someone who could summon their dead niece’s spirit, but encountering enormous scepticism along the way.

“They were the ladies?” she interrupted.

“That’s correct. Sir Lambton’s sister and his aunt. There were many tears as they spoke of their loss and their hope that they would be treated to a final glimpse of the child they loved so well.”

“I’m hardly a child,” Lily muttered.

“Cassandra was not yet eighteen when she died. And you look barely older than that with some mist and gauze to muddy the waters.” Mr Montpelier laughed. “Oh, but you were better than we could have expected. When I saw your photograph while I was in Brussels, and fortuitously so near the maison, I was struck by your resemblance to the beautiful, so-called mad Lady Bradden, but when I found myself saddled with you, I feared I’d taken upon myself a great burden and liability. Now my early hopes have paid off, and you are the better for it, my dear Madame Bradden. You are free from your incarceration and free from your husband. Tonight, you have been put through your paces, and you were a triumph.”

Lily rolled her shoulder away as he went to grip it, and he narrowed his gaze as his nostrils flared. “Have no fear that my interest in you goes beyond what you can do for Mrs Moore and myself.” She clearly had offended him for he pinched the tip of his long bony nose and raised his eyes heavenwards. “If next time goes as well, you will be rewarded. I am a fair man, and it has not escaped me that you have nowhere else to go. Except Madame Chambon’s.”

Lily was about to make some perhaps unwise rejoinder, but asked instead, “Lord Lambton was much moved? I retreated when I saw him rise from his chair. I was afraid—”

“You were in no danger. He would not have gone beyond the curtain.”

“I wasn’t afraid for myself. I felt sorry for him.” Lily lowered her voice. “Surely he only wanted to believe I was his daughter?”

“My dear, you underestimate how compelling Mrs Moore can be. She has quite the reputation. And you, Lady Eustace, were entirely believable. Don’t let your conscience smite you.” Mr Montpelier laughed softly. “We are selling him happiness.”

Lily didn’t ask at what cost.

Chapter 10

“I won’t take no for an answer, Hamish. It’s far too nice a day for you to spend all of it closeted inside your office.”

Hamish considered Lucy’s mulish expression, and the clear blue sky behind her, and weighed up the work he should be doing, and the amount of time he was likely to waste arguing with her.

“You always get your way in the end,” he muttered as he rose and offered her his arm. Together they descended the stairs to the pavement and headed for Regent’s Park, a short distance away.

“If I didn’t, you’d be even more deadly dull than you already are,” she said brightly. Lucy was like a child with a new toy each time she bent him to her will. “Now, as I was saying only yesterday, you just need a pretty, long-suffering, but necessarily cheerful wife to be a foil to your perpetual gloom.”

“Lord, Lucy, you make me out to be some nocturnal creature who scuttles about in a basement, shunning joy and fresh air when nothing could be further from the truth,” Hamish countered as they traversed the gravel path. “I walk to work every morning, breathing deep the pea-soup fogs of this time of year, and I smilingly compliment all the nannies on their bright and energetic charges. If I don’t smile, it’s not because I’m unhappy but rather—Oh, I beg your pardon!”

He stepped back quickly so as not to impede the path of a woman in a fashionable gown, a thick veil concealing her face.

“Why, Mr McTavish!” she said, raising the veil and revealing herself to be the beautiful blonde whose image haunted him and who seemed determined to bring him to account in the flesh.

“Mrs Eustace,” he acknowledged with a bow.

In her heavily adorned gown of red-and-white stripes with black fringing set off by a pert black velvet hat with curling plume, she looked extraordinarily fetching, and Hamish had to work hard to show how unmoved he really was.

Hamish introduced her to his sister with misgiving, heightened when Lucy put her hand to her lips, saying, “I knew you looked familiar!” She shook her head disbelievingly. “Why, I saw your photograph on Hamish’s desk only yesterday. I thought you so beautiful.”

Instead of moving on in embarrassment at the first opportunity, as Hamish had hoped, Mrs Eustace inclined her head and said with a twinkle in her eye, “You are kind. Might I, in turn, compliment you on your bonnet, Miss McTavish? The fruit looks so edible I’d worry some urchin might dash past and snatch it right off your head.”

“Heavens, but can you believe it! Some urchin already tried!” Lucy said with a surprised laugh. “Hamish went in pursuit and fetched it back, of course, though I think the creature got off lightly since he didn’t drag her before the police constable. Not too long ago she’d have been sent to the colonies for her crimes.”

“Indeed. Well, let us hope the urchin mended her ways having got off so lightly this time and has taken advantage of being given a second chance.” A smile tugged at her lips. “That’s if you are a champion of progress, Miss McTavish. I am a regular reader of your brother’s improving magazine, and I am still undecided as to his views on reform now that he has taken over the magazine’s editorship.”