“I’m sure I would,” he said without heat. “Clara, have you discussed the meal with—”
“I have it all in hand,” she said as she looked at Lilah. “Say you’ll come. I’ve done it all for you.”
“Of course, I will.”
And so, she did. She adjusted her work such that she could be home in time. She checked on the staff and discovered that they had indeed risen to the occasion. And the new livery arrived in time, which was a delight to see. She dressed in her best gown, laughed as Clara fixed her hideous attempt at cosmetics, and then hurried downstairs in time for their first guest.
He was a barrister with a booming voice and a delightful laugh. She found him interesting but a little too fond of his own voice.
The next two guests arrived together. A shy man who manufactured carriages with his father and a boisterous young artist who sang as he painted portraits. They were surprisingly clever about all things mechanical and were both very excited about a new type of mechanical gear.
Two ladies in the company of a solicitor knocked a few moments later. All three laughed easily and talked constantly about a milliner they knew who was detained because of a minor accident while adjusting a bleaching formula.
Clara came down then, late to greet her guests, but was warmly welcomed by all. Then more arrivals, more drink, and more laughter. And everyone seemed genuinely curious about Lilah. Several had heard about her from Clara, but there was no animosity toward her. No subtle jabs about her parentage, and not a harsh word directed toward herself, their butler, or even the fact that their dinner was plain by the standards of the elite and the decorations non-existent. Lilah had been to enough balls to know that each hostess tried to out-do the next. In truth, she had worried that Clara hadn’t thought to pick up flowers for their table or even beeswax candles that reduced the smoke. For Clara and the others, the evening was about companionship and not the extras.
And about her. They asked about her childhood in the troupe and the transition to Lady Byrn’s household. They quizzed her about her new job and begged her to give gossip about her adoptive family. They wanted details and stories—fodder for the gossip that they freely exchanged about each other—and though they accepted her, she was still left feeling at odds.
They talked about each other and the stories of their lives. She didn’t understand the details of bleaching fabric which was discussed after the milliner arrived. And when she asked, one began to answer for half a breath and then another would pick up the tale, only to have a third interrupt with a statement that began, “Remember when…” And off it went.
These people were all good friends, and she was the one left with no understanding of their shared laughter. She ended up resorting to her old tactics of playing hostess without intruding. Smiling without joining. And though she felt no animosity from them, she also was soon forgotten amid their animated conversation.
How lowering to realize that the circumstances of her birth were not the reason she so often fell into the background. These people cared not a whit about her parentage and yet here she was again existing on the fringes of a party. One that Clara had, in fact, created to help her find a husband.
Obviously, the fault lay within her, if only she could understand what it was.
And then, while she was still in the midst of that horrible realization, everything changed. His lordship came home. And not just him. He arrived with Lord Loughton, both of them talking with animation as they stepped into the front hallway. They cheerfully greeted the butler, disposed of their outerwear, and then entered the parlor with every sign of good cheer.
Lilah tensed, wondering if the tension between the siblings would translate to Clara’s friends, but if anyone appeared awkward it was Clara herself who jumped to her feet and then stood there in confusion. Lilah stepped into the breach, of course, introducing everyone who then made the two newcomers welcome. And though Lilah caught several arch looks coming from Lord Loughton toward Clara, he eased into the conversation as if he were thrilled to be among them. Because, apparently, he was.
Aaron too settled in once he’d poured himself a brandy. He asked about the carriage business and the milliner’s chemical experiments. He turned his agile mind to discussions of science as easily as he pondered the difficulties of advertising. And all the while, Lilah wondered what was wrong with her. Why did everyone else appear to be having the most marvelous time while she stood on the edge and provided a listening ear to the self-important barrister? Once again, she was left to entertain the boor while everyone else made merry.
Was she cursed?
Of course not. That was a fanciful idea borne of Clara’s current discussion of ancient pagan religious practices. No, the fault lay entirely within herself.
Her thought trailed off. It didn’t matter that she’d been chewing on the idea for more than an hour. Suddenly it faded away beneath Aaron’s steady regard from across the room. He appeared to be listening to his sister’s commentary of paganism, but his gaze was on her as was hers upon him.
In that moment, she felt seen.
Her body relaxed, her breath eased, and she smiled with true feeling.
The barrister caught his attention then, and they began a discussion about an important legal case. There had been broadsides about it, but Lilah had been too busy in the registry office to pay attention to it. Not so for Aaron who apparently had a clear opinion that differed from the barrister’s. But far from being put out by the disagreement, he asked about the legality of something or other. She couldn’t hear it, much less understand it, but it didn’t matter. That one moment of silent communication with Aaron had given her the strength to excuse herself from the boorish gentleman and ask the woman nearest her about her fashion choices. They were, by standard definitions, rather eclectic.
And so the evening went with Lilah having mixed results when engaging in conversation, sometimes feeling flatly outclassed, sometimes feeling completely intrigued. And all the while keeping track of Aaron’s activities, Aaron’s discussions, and Aaron’s gaze which frequently met hers even from across the room. It was like they were dancing with their eyes, and it lifted her heart every time they came together.
The only bad note the entire evening came from Clara as she resolutely ignored Lord Loughton. She refused to speak with him, refused to acknowledge him, and whenever he stepped near, she found some excuse to move to the opposite side of the room. He didn’t seem to mind. Indeed, if Lilah had to guess, he seemed to find her reaction amusing though a dark glint sparked often in his eyes. Whatever was happening between him and Clara, he was clearly not put off by her behavior.
In time, the evening ended. It was early by the standards of the London elite. Lilah was certain that Lady Byrn was only now moving to her last ball of the night. At the height of the Season, she would attend two or three events in an evening. She would also not return home until shortly before dawn.
But these people were of a different class. The men had work to do in the morning and when they left, so too did the women. Lord Loughton departed near the end to act as escort to Miss Smithee, the lady of eccentric attire. The rest took their leave soon afterwards, and when Lilah turned to express her thanks to Clara, she was met with her friend’s irritated huff.
“Well, that was unnecessary, don’t you think?” Clara asked.
“What?”
“He needn’t have escorted Miss Smithee home. Meredith has been travelling all over London by herself since she was sixteen.”
“I thought it was kind of him,” said Lilah.