Something Old by Rebecca Connolly (autobiographies to read txt) 📕

he’d received from her father the moment he could afford to do so. It would be for her use only, once she was aware of it. He still hadn’t managed to tell her.

That would require talking to her.

He really hadn’t done that in years.

They had conversations, of course, as they met for dinner every evening, but nothing of substance had been discussed in the whole course of the marriage.

Nothing.

It was his fault. It was always his fault. If he remotely thought, for even one moment, that he could lay anything at Lily’s door for the way their relationship had soured, he was grossly mistaken. Lily had only adapted to the life he had set up for them and the attitudes he had taken up. His guilt had guided his behavior toward her for the last five years, and now that he had removed the looming obstacle to his happiness, he aimed to find that happiness.

With his wife.

He should have proposed to her before he’d been ruined. He’d loved her enough, though they had never courted. Her family, the Ardens, had been acquainted with his own for their entire lives, and he had been well-liked and appreciated, but he could safely say that he and Lily had never been sweethearts. Being some years older than her, they’d only ever been thrown together for gatherings with their families, never for their own interests. He had never taken particular interest in her, though he certainly cared enough for the four Arden girls in general.

It wasn’t until he had seen her again in 1819 at an evening soiree held by Mary Hamilton that he had seen her in a different light. She had bloomed into the loveliest creature he had ever seen, and her ability to create the very song of heaven on a pianoforte unmanned him. He’d known for ages that she was accomplished musically, but never to such a degree, and never with such elegance, grace, and ease. She had been breathlessly majestic, and the fact that he had been there in a halfhearted attempt to court Mary Hamilton had bewildered him, given what a torrent of emotion Lily had roused within him.

But how could he have pursued a young woman he had known his entire life and never truly seen? With the life he had led, tolerably honorable though it was, he had no security to provide a woman of fortune and breeding, especially when her nature was as angelic as Lily’s. He needed to improve his reputation, elevate the respect his name commanded, and ensure that he was known for more than his gaming abilities.

If Lily had come to him as an old family friend and told him she wished to marry a man with a reputation for cards and gaming, he’d have warned her off in no uncertain terms.

How, then, could he offer for her so unworthy and unprepared?

So, he had begun a reconstruction of himself and his life and slowly started to take part in Society more. He could converse with Lily at gatherings where they had both been invited and be politely seen taking his place there. He had never been a rogue or a scoundrel, but he certainly could have improved the quality of gentleman he had been.

He’d been well on his way to achieving his aims after three years of effort when the chance to financially exceed his wildest dreams had crossed his path, and thus precipitated his ruin. Only weeks after that investment, he had slunk to the Ardens and offered for Lily’s hand, though it had been more akin to outright begging. As Mr. and Mrs. Arden had never quite adjusted to the disappointment of having only daughters and no sons, they consented to the match with no fuss whatsoever.

Hardly the proper behavior for any parent, but he would be grateful to them in spite of that. After all, their lack of concern had been his salvation, in more ways than one.

And he could make up for the tasteless manner in which his marriage had come about. He could. As soon as he figured out how.

He was not going to figure that out here and now, however. He knew his wife so little, thanks to the habits he had formed in his desperation to avoid her as much as humanly possible. He could have done a better job there, been more present and less aloof, and still have brought about the same distance, but fear of his feelings for her had driven him to extremes, and only now was he realizing the chasm he’d created.

And that only spoke to his own feelings. There was no telling what hers might have been.

Short of asking her himself, of course. He was not that brave.

Not yet. Possibly not ever.

He hoped that wasn’t the case, but he wasn’t prepared to make any assumptions. He never made assumptions now. Couldn’t afford them.

He pushed up from his chair, dropped the reports on his desk, and turned from the room, his strides long and sure. It would undoubtedly give the impression that he had confidence and purpose, when in actuality, he only had purpose.

He needed insight on his wife. And there was only one person he could truthfully turn to for that.

Well, two, actually, but they lived in the same house. They might be his only allies in this venture.

A few minutes later, he was on horseback, riding quickly for his nearest neighbor in Hampshire, the Earl of Montgomery. Lord Montgomery’s first wife had been Lily’s favorite cousin, and his current wife was one of her oldest friends. If anyone could guide him as to how to proceed next, it was them. Either of them. Both of them.

Surely one of them would know.

Short of Lily’s sister Rosalind, they were the closest thing to family she claimed anymore. But Rosalind was in the Indies, or perhaps Spain, so he would settle for the Montgomerys.

If Thomas and Lily had been in London, he’d have a greater selection of friends for himself and