Loving Lily (Fair Cyprians of London 6)

; The idea of having anyone champion her was heartwarming, but any accompanying glow was short-lived. Lily knew the truth. She lived the experience, and had done too many times, to question the fact that she was every bit the madwoman her husband painted her.

Lord Lambton was not content to leave it at that, for he went on fiercely, “No, indeed, Sir John. I do not believe this fabrication of lunacy when the likelier story is that Sir Robert saw it in his best interests to broadcast to all and sundry the assertion that his wife suffered from insanity.”

Her father, as stately as ever, stared with beetling brows at Lord Lambton, and then spoke in a low hiss. “You’ve said enough, Lambton. Indeed, you show prodigious effrontery in showing your face in my house after what you have done. Get out!”

Lily was as taken aback as Hamish appeared to be. She saw the colour drain from her beloved’s face before he opened his mouth to perhaps try and calm the situation.

It would be like Hamish. He appeared so self-contained but the truth was that he was a peacemaker. He’d have made a good husband, she thought sadly.

However, before Hamish could speak, Lord Lambton interjected, his voice clear and passionate. “What I have done?” he repeated. “I fought a duel with you over the love of the most beautiful woman in all of England. And then, even though you no longer wanted her, you stole her away from me. Took her to the Continent and severed all contact between us. Then proceeded to let everyone believe the lie that the daughter she bore eight months later was yours. That’s the truth of it. Answer me! That’s what happened, isn’t it? Susan gave birth to my daughter, yet you said nothing! I had no idea of the truth until this man, Hamish McTavish, laid out the pieces. Lily Bradden is, in fact, my daughter. That’s the truth of it, is that not so?”

Lily was Lord Lambton’s daughter? What could Lord Lambton mean?

Heat burned her skin, and her heart skittered about in her chest as she waited for her father’s response. But Lord Lambton was continuing with accusations so uncharacteristic from the tender tone Lily was used to hearing at their Wednesday séances, “Why did you say nothing, Taverner? If you hated her so much, why give her no reason for you clearly wishing to have nothing to do with her?”

Her father drew himself up. “What was the point? She was a girl. She’d not inherit. I had no proof of my wife’s duplicity. From a legal standpoint, I was saddled with the child she bore.”

“You fought a duel on account of your wife’s duplicity,” said Lambton. “And then you dragged her out of the country. She was not allowed to communicate with me, was she? Why did you then visit such cruelty on her daughter?” Lord Lambton’s voice cracked.

“Do you think I’d let her sully what good name was left?” Lily watched her father’s mouth twist into the familiar, cruel hard line that characterised his expression when he addressed her. “Of course, I gave Susan no chance to communicate with you.”

“Did she try?”

There was a querulous note in Lord Lambton’s tone. By now, an understanding of what Lord Lambton was saying was beginning to breach her shock. Still confused, but with her faculties finally clearing, she stared between the harsh, grey-haired man she’d grown up believing was her father, and the white-haired, gentler man she’d come to know as the bereaved Lord Lambton who’d lost his only child.

“Did Sarah ever try to leave?”

“What would have been the point, Lambton?” Her father sighed as if he were suddenly weary. “She was married to me and, if you recall, you were married to someone else. Well, she paid for her sins, didn’t she? The bastard you and she created killed her when she was brought screaming into this world. And I’ve had to feed and clothe her ever since.”

Lily’s mouth dropped open. She might have then said something but Hamish was speaking, his words ringing out with crisp clarity, “But with due respect, you discharged that expense as quickly as you could, for you arranged her marriage to Sir Robert Bradden as soon as she was out of the schoolroom.”

Lily focused her eyes on her father—well, the man she’d believed was her father—as she waited for his response. When it came, it was quite in character. “Sir Robert? And didn’t he wash his hands of her as quickly as he could, then derided me into the bargain for foisting a tainted changeling upon him.” He let out a bitter laugh. “Like mother, like daughter, he told me, when she did as her mother did and began an affair with her doctor. The man he’d trusted to look after his delicate wife.”

Lily bristled with indignation. That was not how it was, at all.

“Sir Robert already had a mistress when he married me!” she cried, leaping to her feet and tossing the cushion back onto the sofa to put her hands on her hips. “In all our married years together, he spoke not one kind word to me. It was clear he wanted nothing to do with me—except a child, and when that did not happen, he was forever pushing Teddy—Dr Swithins—to attend me! Do not blame me for everything, Father!” She glared at the man who had cowed her for her entire life. Yet with the clear support of Hamish and Lord Lambton, she felt sufficiently emboldened to make her case.

The three men turned, astonishment written on all their faces.

“You!” her father all but spat. “Just like you to be hiding away, eavesdropping. Well, young woman, you got only what you deserved. Madness? Yes, you became deranged. I admit I was both horrified but morbidly delighted that such a just punishment should be visited upon you.”

“Except that Lady Bradden was never mad.” It was darling Hamish who said this with such misguided conviction.

“Good lord, and what would you know about that?” Sir John said derisively. “What would you know about anything? Why are you even here?”

Lily wondered the same thing. Yes, he obviously cared for her, and it was truly astonishing that he’d made this long journey to be here and confront her father with what, so far, had been unfounded support for her mental state. But why was he here with Lord Lambton? Her father? Could Lord Lambton really believe such a thing? That Lily was his daughter?

Could it really be true?

And how could Hamish contradict the undeniable fact that she was prone to debilitating bouts of madness? Madness so acute that she believed the walls were breathing, closing in on her, and that she was about to burst out of herself?

“I came here,” Hamish announced crisply, “because I needed to find your daughter to tell her—and everyone else who believes the lie—that she is not mad. And that I have proof.”

Darling Hamish. If only it were true. Lord, if anyone knew she was mad, then Lily knew it, herself. She wanted to run to him and throw his arms about him.

“Proof, eh?

“Yes, conclusive proof in the form of the powders that that charlatan Dr Swithins has been administering to her.”