“Lovely,” said Lily. “So the whole family is as charming as Lord Blackwood?” She cringed a little as she realized what she'd said. The stress must have been getting to her, because she was usually very polite, but Lily could hardly remember her last full meal or her last good night's rest, and now all this, no wonder she was feeling irritable.
Minnie only giggled as she laced Lily's corset. “The young Mister Blackwood do 'ave his, er... charms,” she drawled in a thick Northern accent.
Lily blushed bright red because she thought she knew exactly what Minnie meant. Still, she was curious, so she prodded, “... like what?”
“Oh, mistress,” Minnie cooed, not at all embarrassed by this line of query and merely acting the part of the squeamish lady, “I shouldn't say, but... he do know how to hold a woman, if you get me.”
Lily coughed politely and said nothing because she didn't exactly know. She knew that Minnie meant fornication, but the idea of such being pleasurable was lost on Lily. The only time Lily had ever been with a man was forcibly by one of her suitors in what felt like another lifetime, when Rosie was conceived. It had been a frightening and painful experience, and she could not imagine deriving pleasure from such a thing. But Minnie spoke about it with a delight that Lily found terribly intriguing, especially when she thought of Will Blackwood's broad but slender shoulders and his brooding blue eyes.
Laced into the tightest corset she'd ever donned and nestled in laciest frock she'd ever seen, with a bit of make-up applied artfully to her face by Minnie, Lillian descended the stairs to dinner, thinking that if she kept lacing this tightly she should never be able to eat enough to be healthy again.
The dining room was large and the table long enough to comfortably seat twenty. Lord Blackwood sat at the head, puffing on his pipe, filling the air with a fine, smoky haze. Lily steeled herself against the smoke, thinking that she would just have to get used to it, and she coughed into her hand as she sat down across from Will.
Will was leaning back in his chair, had his feet on the arm of the chair beside him, and was puffing on a cigarette, which he thought much more stylish than his father's stodgy old pipe.
“Good evening, my lords,” Lily greeted them, her voice restricted to a gentle coo by the tightness of her corset. She smiled at Lord Blackwood and fluttered her lashes at him. Blackwood grunted and sipped his sherry.
“As I was saying, about the gold standard,” Blackwood continued, neither man so much as bothering to say a word to Lily, although Lily noticed young Master Blackwood's eyes drifting back to her irresistibly, as her new dress boasted a much lower neckline and bare shoulders. Lily blushed under the young man's gaze, feeling a strange ticklish warmth between her legs at the way his lips curled into a knowing smile behind his whiskey.
“The gold standard is obsolete, the pound has the strength to stand on its own,” young Blackwood said to his father, waving a hand at him dismissively. He dropped his feet to the floor and straightened up in his chair, cocking his head and leaning toward Lily. “Father, are you not going to introduce me to my new mother?” He grinned crookedly at her, and Lily's heart skipped.
“Oh, er, of course,” Lord Blackwood waved at Lily, “Miss Lillian Monroe, this is my son, William. Will, Miss Blackwood.”
“It's a pleasure,” Lily said, and although Will was as much of a boor as his father, she really meant it. It was a pleasure. Will made her feel strange. She didn't like him, personally, but she liked being around him, if that made sense.
“Charmed, I'm sure,” Will drawled, sitting back in his chair, ashing his cigarette on the floor. Another young maid came by to sweep up the ashes and Will thumped her on the bottom with a laugh. She squealed and scurried from the room, glancing back at him with a grin.
“For God's sake,” Lord Blackwood muttered, “contain yourself, child.”
“I'm not a child, I'm twenty-five,” Will scoffed, “and I'll do as I please.”
“Do as you please and run our family's name into the ground!” Lord Blackwood blustered, rising to his feet, his face beet red, and Lily guessed he was probably at least four sherries deep. “What I'd do if your mother was alive--”
“But she's not, is she?” Will sprang to his feet too and drained his whiskey. “Mother's dead, and you've already run our family's name into the ground. You're a laughingstock, old man, it doesn't matter how rich we are if you can't keep le bon ton, for Christ sakes--”
“Watch your tongue!” Lord Blackwood cried incongruously, for he cursed as much as his son, but it was now almost entirely the sherry talking. Will set his glass down loudly.
“I regretfully must inform you that this affair has grown terribly dull,” he said blandly. “I must go amuse myself otherwise or risk dying of boredom before moonrise.” With that, Will stalked out of the room, leaving Lily and Lord Blackwood in uncomfortable silence.
Lord Blackwood sat back down, grumbling, and the servants brought in dinner. Lily ate as much as she could, but the corset was relentlessly tight, and Lord Blackwood's personal odor spoiled what little appetite remained, so she mostly pushed the food about on her plate and tried to talk to Lord Blackwood. But every time she tried to speak, Blackwood snapped at her and stunned her into silence. Once he had finished eating and was lighting up his pipe again, Lily felt nauseated for lack of air.
“I must retire now, Lord Blackwood--”
“Roger, call me Roger, stupid girl.”
“... of course, Roger.” Lily gritted her teeth. “It has been a long day indeed. I bid you good-night.”
“Eh, not so fast, girly,” Blackwood grunted into his sherry, “go upstairs if you want, but don't go to sleep yet. I'll be along when it please me.”
Lily very much did not like the sound of that, but she had to please Blackwood to get Rosie back, so she said, “Of course, m'lord,” then curtsied and went upstairs to change into something less suffocating. Do what she might with her clothes, however, Lily knew that feeling suffocated had little to do with garments.