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

Lily could not help but smile and nodded. “I shall do my best, my lord.”

“Good. Now,” he took a step closer, gesturing for Thomas to step in as well, “I have heard, Mrs. Granger, that you are exceptionally skilled at the pianoforte. If you consent, I shall invite you to play something for us after dinner.”

“I would be delighted, my lord.” Lily dipped her chin, not quite nodding, but smiling even so.

Lord Basset did the same. “Excellent. Now, let me introduce you to the nearest lady so you might have someone to take you around while I steal your husband to do the same. Ah.” He moved to a fair-haired woman in violet silks, her fan steadily waving. “Mrs. Boscastle, allow me to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, recently arrived from London.”

The woman turned with a blank expression that only changed when she took a pointed look at Lily, then offered a polite smile. “What a pleasure.” She curtseyed to them deeply. “So delighted.”

“Would you be so kind as to introduce Mrs. Granger to the rest of the ladies, Mrs. Boscastle?” Lord Basset inquired.

“Of course, Basset,” she all but purred, beaming up at him, her tone losing a great deal of its formality. “It would be a pleasure.”

He nodded his thanks, nodded to Lily, and walked on, indicating Thomas should follow.

Thomas turned to Lily and took up her hand, kissing it softly before leaving. The back of her hand burned, though it had only been a brush.

“Not very gallant,” Mrs. Boscastle grumbled when they were alone, her fan moving again.

“I beg your pardon?” Lily asked, ready to defend her husband’s actions.

The lady tapped her fan toward the men. “Basset. Abandoning you to a stranger and stealing your husband for his own conversations. If he weren’t so wealthy or so well featured, I shouldn’t pay him a moment’s attention.” She shook her head, then gave Lily a look. “Which of the ladies would you care to meet first?”

Startled, Lily took a look around the room, her eyes falling on a slender woman in a simple green muslin standing alone by the fire, looking almost identical to Lord Basset, though her eyes were the palest, most brilliant blue she had ever seen. “Who is that young lady?”

Mrs. Boscastle sputtered behind her fan. “Oh, I shouldn’t bother with that one. That is Miss Moyle, Basset’s half-sister. She’s the daughter of a maid, born on the wrong side of the blanket, you know. Basset acknowledges her, though he’d be better off leaving her to the poorhouse, I daresay. Not fit to mix in polite company, yet he will insist on doing so. She was a maid herself before he found her. Conversation with her is worse than speaking with a miner.”

“Really?” Lily murmured, pursing her lips. “Excuse me, Mrs. Boscastle.” Without another word, Lily strode across the room, not caring if every other man and woman in the room could see her doing so. She smiled pleasantly as she reached the young woman and curtseyed as she would have to anyone else. “Miss Moyle, this is terribly forward, but I would very much like to make your acquaintance, if I may. My name is Lily Granger, and I hope we shall become great friends.”

Chapter Eleven

Thomas had never been more enchanted by his wife than at this moment, and that was saying a very great deal.

Basset had all but cursed as they’d seen Lily stride away from Mrs. Boscastle, who looked as though she had swallowed a toad as she watched Lily go.

“That’s my sister,” Basset hissed to Thomas when Lily reached her. “She’s… She’s not…”

“I don’t think it matters,” Thomas told him as he smiled at Lily’s curtsey, getting the idea well enough from reactions.

Whatever the young lady’s name was, whatever her situation, it was good enough for Lily. Which meant it was good enough for him.

Even now, the pair of them were sitting together, deep in conversation, and the bewildered expression had yet to leave the young woman’s face. Basset had since gone to see about the meal, leaving Thomas in the company of another recent acquaintance, Gage Trembath.

“I hope you recognize the statement your wife has just made,” Trembath murmured beside him, watching the scene as well.

Thomas glanced at him. “You disapprove?”

Trembath shook his head firmly. “Not at all. I’m rather fond of Emblyn. Miss Moyle, that is. I’ve no complaints in associating with her. But if you will look around, you will see that not all feel the same.”

A quick survey of other guests proved the man’s word. There were not many others in the room, but some of the ladies eyed Lily and Miss Moyle with distaste. Mrs. Boscastle, for one, seemed horrified, while her companion seemed more irritated than anything else. There were a handful of other ladies about, but none seemed to take notice of Lily, or Miss Moyle, or of the horror felt by those that had noticed.

“What should be their complaint?” Thomas asked, his eyes tracing back to his wife and her new friend. “Whatever her situation, if Basset should be her brother…”

“Miss Moyle is the illegitimate daughter of Basset’s late father,” Trembath told him in a low voice. “Her mother was a maid in the household. Basset only recently learned of her existence and sought her out. She was working as a maid at Tehidy. He would have her live here with him, but she will not. She is well aware of the distance between them in fortune and breeding, and she is stubbornly maintaining that distance insofar as Basset will concede.”

Thomas raised a brow. “As he will concede? If he feels so strongly about bringing her into his household, surely he has the power to enforce his will.”

Trembath laughed once, giving him a sly look. “Emblyn holds the power in this struggle, Granger. She has lived independently for years and is quite accustomed to doing so. Even has her own cottage near Wheal Drennick.