25. Chapter 25-Lily
What on earth had just happened?
Miss Preston. He’d called her Miss Preston!
Bradford hadn’t done so since that very first ball when he’d asked to dance, and even then his tone had been mocking. Yet there had been nothing remotely joking about the way he’d said her name that morning in the park.
Lily paced before the fire in her bedroom late into the morning, the plush rug soft beneath her bare feet. Outside, the city was loud and boisterous. Carriage wheels clattered along the cobblestones and genteel walkers greeted each other as they passed.
Lily shook her head. It had only been two days since she’d paced in much the same manner after Bradford declared he’d felt…something.
Apparently, he’d changed his mind. Lily sat abruptly on her sofa, staring out at nothing. She was no idiot—she knew a goodbye when she heard one. Bradford Hayes had set her quite firmly aside.
How ironic that this was what Lily thought she’d wanted all throughout that first dance weeks ago—for Bradford to give his word that he wouldn’t tell a soul about her being his governess, that he wouldn’t harm the chances of her sisters to marry. That he would leave and never return.
Over the past days, she’d started to think… Well, she’d hoped. And wasn’t hope sometimes the most dangerous of all emotions? She’d thought that perhaps Bradford had felt the same, strange connection she had, even when they’d been back in Northumberland.
Not that she’d entertained any sort of further hope at the time. She had been his governess. He was the master of the house. It would have been an impropriety on both of their parts to ever allow their hopes to tread that particular path.
But then he’d taken the trouble to hunt her down in London.
She’d kept wondering why. Was it simply for closure, as he’d claimed?
She pressed a hand to her stomach and shook her head.
It didn’t make sense—if all he wanted to know was who she truly was, well, the investigator had found that out for him already.
If he’d wanted his pound of flesh as recompense, then he should have exposed her as a fraud to the entire ton.
He hadn’t even needed to see her, if all he wanted was the truth.
If he’d never intended upon hurting her or her sisters, then he could have spotted her in the park, confirmed her identity for himself, and ridden back to Northumberland, with Lily being none the wiser that he’d ever been in London at all.
The thought sent a sharp spear of pain through her. Dear heavens, what if he had done that? For Bradford being in London had changed her. It had helped heal those ragged parts of her that had torn the moment she’d escaped Ballam Hall.
Instead of leaving, he’d courted her. It was the truth she hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on while he’d been visiting her in her parlor, but something she’d state plainly now.
Bradford was not the type of man to waste his time for sheer amusement’s sake.
If he’d been visiting her for the past several months, he’d had a reason.
Something beyond revenge or even petty triumph.
Then he’d told her he had feelings for her, said that he’d wait for her. Of course, Lily hadn’t realized that the time limit on his waiting had been a matter of hours.
What had changed so suddenly?
Perhaps it was the way she had looked at Bradford, that moment in the park.
For the first time, Lily had let her private hopes seep out in her expression.
She’d showed him that she truly cared for him past friendship.
She’d told him as much when she said that she couldn’t make herself regret her duplicity or her time in Northumberland.
Not just because of how she loved Rebecca, but also because of him.
The emotions she’d seen play out across his face! Determination, but there had been stark longing there, too. She knew desire when she saw it now. She nearly snorted—these past weeks of courting had taught her that much when it came to men, at least.
So why was Bradford turning away from her now, when he could have done so at any time in the past weeks? Why had he left, right when she’d been about to confess her love? If Bradford wanted her—which his split-second expression had all but declared—what had made him leave the park?
That was the question that had her pacing, but she found no answer in the thick carpeting.
That afternoon, Lily dressed with so much care that Mabel gave her a knowing smile and asked if she was expecting a special gentleman.
Lily had smiled wanly in return. She didn’t know how to put the truth into words—that she feared the special gentleman in question would never darken her door again.
When visiting hours arrived, Lily sat in her customary spot on the sofa. She’d had the footman rearrange the grouping so that a heavy pedestal table was directly in line with one of the windows, and a footstool in line with the archway.
If Bradford wouldn’t be there, she would have to find ways to prevent the overwhelming fear of being trapped or smothered without his help.
The butler made his first announcements and Lily’s eyes flicked up with hope, but it was only the Duke of Ettrick to see Margaret, some lord she’d never heard of to see Beatrice, and two men she didn’t care for to see her.
It wasn’t that the gentlemen weren’t handsome or charming. Both engaged her in lively conversation that, at the beginning of the Season, would have been all she hoped for.
But now Bradford’s familiar pensive look was all Lily longed to see.
Throughout the afternoon, the gentlemen came and went with the same rhythm and certainty of a restless tide.
Lily gave up on tea and ate biscuits at an alarming pace.
Margaret was right on one count—there was a certain comfort to be found in butter and sugar.
When the last straggler finally left and all her fears proved true, Lily stood and retreated to her private desk.
The strict rules that governed interactions between single gentlemen and single ladies were firm and absolute. However, Lily felt they no longer applied to her and Bradford. Even if he didn’t want her—which she was certain he did—they were friends at the very least.
She scrawled a hasty message inquiring about his health, signed her name, and handed it off to the nearest footman. “Please see that this is delivered from you to the gentleman personally, with all due haste.”
Lily didn’t care how it would look if anyone found out. She had a sneaking suspicion that threatened to drag her stomach down like an undertow.
Her suspicion was confirmed an hour later when Mabel brought the missive back to Lily’s bedroom and informed her that the footman hadn’t been able to deliver it.
Lord Hayes had left London altogether.