“Master Blackwood, have I something on my face?” Lily snipped.
Will was sitting across from her in the carriage on the way to the ball. It was the debutante ball for Lord Blackwood's favorite niece, whose family were not quite so fantastically wealthy as the Blackwoods but far more respectable. Lily knew that many important people would be in attendance and she was very nervous, and Will was not helping. He had been staring at her since they got in the carriage. Lily felt self-conscious of her attire. The deep green gown bore her frail shoulders and the corset pressed her small breasts together, and the emerald hue of the gown set off her wan and fair complexion, so that she looked at once like Aphrodite and a porcelain doll. Her hair was pinned up elegantly, piled high on the back of her head, with just a few golden blonde curls framing her face.
Will thought that she looked like an angel. He was positively spellbound. Every time he tried to tear his gaze from her, it wandered right back.
Lord Blackwood paid not a whit of attention to his fiancee or his son. He puffed his pipe moodily and stared out the window, ignoring them both until the smoke made Lily begin to cough a little. Will spoke up then, “Do you intend to marry a corpse, Father?”
“What?” Lord Blackwood shook his head and his jowls jiggled and he glared at his son. “The devil do you mean?”
“Your wife,” Will said simply. Lily was pressing a handkerchief to her mouth in an effort to stifle the coughs.
“Oh, bother,” Blackwood grumbled. “What's the matter with you, missy? Can't handle a little smoke?”
“I'm fine, m'lord,” Lily gasped, because she did not want to displease Lord Blackwood by disturbing one of his favorite hobbies.
“We're nearly there,” Will said to Lily. If she didn't know better, she would think he was trying to comfort her!
The disembarked the carriage in front of a house with a beautiful limestone facade, all lit up with paper lanterns and decorated with potted flowers. Lord Blackwood exited first and trundled off, hollering after a business acquaintance, who looked embarrassed to be associated with Blackwood so publicly and tried to avoid him. Lily saw the exchange and even though she was marrying into this disgrace, she had to laugh.
“Come, Mother dear,” Will said with a grin. Lily hated it when he called her that. He nimbly hopped out of the carriage and offered Lily his hand. She wanted to say she didn't need his help, but her head swam when she stood, so she accepted, blushing at his touch. In her nerves, without realizing it, Lily was squeezing Will's arm as she held on to him, and by the time they mounted the steps and entered the grand hall, Lily was shaking. Already people were giving her strange looks from the side of their eyes, whispering behind fans about the scandalized pauper, Lillian Monroe, and her engagement to the deplorable Lord Blackwood.
Will deposited her near the punch table. “I shall return to you forthwith, but I must make the rounds.” He nodded to her, then whirled and disappeared into the crowd. Lily sat down again, too dizzy to even attempt to stand, too dazed to notice that Will was being polite to her, and stared in awe at the glittering crowd around her. So many beautiful, respectable people, she thought, and I don't belong among them at all. I am a fraud.
But this is the life you will give to Rosie, another voice rejoined, and this thought made Lily so happy that she beamed at no one in particular, Rosie will grow up among all these fine, respectable people, and you will raise her well, so that no matter how wretched a man her step-father is, these people will love and accept her.
Lily lost herself daydreaming about Rosie, and nearly screamed when Will materialized and bent down low and said, with his lips nearly brushing her ear, “When you smile like that, Mrs. Blackwood, you are the most beautiful woman in all London.” Lily turned and pouted at him for startling her, and, laughing, he straightened and crossed his arms. “When you look like that, however, you more resemble a sulking kitten.”
“What do you want?” Lily demanded. “All of high society is already mocking me, Will Blackwood, I'll thank you not to rejoin the mockery, hm?” She patted her hair and looked away from him, trying to maintain some dignity, but it was impossible... every time Will so much as looked at her, Lily felt naked.
“I love this song!” Will exclaimed as the quartet started. He took Lily's hand. “Dance with me, Mother. Please?”
Lily's cheeks puffed as she prepared to refuse. But she did love to dance... and she hadn't had the chance in so long... and Lord Blackwood certainly wasn't going to ask her, and she knew she was tainted so no other men would want to dance with her, either... it seemed, if she was to dance, it would be with Will or not at all.
“Very well,” she said with a shrug, trying to act as if she did not care. Secretly, she was pleased at the prospect of some fun on this otherwise nerve-racking and stodgy occasion. Will led her to the middle of the floor and held her very, very close, then led her into a basic dance. He was not overly learned in the finer points of waltzing, but he did it beautifully after his own fashion. Lily held on to him and, for a few minutes at least, she forgot all her cares, forgot that she hated Will, forgot about the flocks of women clustered around and glaring at the two of them in disapproval, she even almost forgot to worry about Rosie. For a few minutes, Lily Monroe was just another twenty-year-old young lady in her own mind, and Will Blackwood was just another devilishly handsome young man.
His feet did not stop moving as he took her into the next song, and a third, and a fourth. He danced so nicely that Lillian was tempted to name it among his very few redeeming qualities, as a matter of fact. She had not smiled this much in many long years, so it was a shame when her legs started to give, as she could not breathe very well at all and the exertion of the dancing overcame her. She thought, for a second, that she might just collapse and embarrass herself and the Blackwoods, but Will held her tight. His face was uncharacteristically soft as he slowed down, sliding his arms around Lily's upper body to hold her up (and hug her to his chest).
“Are you fatigued, Mrs. Blackwood?” he asked far too gently. This sudden turn of character made Lily nervous.
“Are you suddenly a gentleman, Master Blackwood?” she retorted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I am terribly fatigued, would you kindly return me to my seat?”
“Only if I may carry you over my shoulder like a sack of sugar, for you are just as sweet,” he teased. Lily smiled even though she wanted to scoff, and no, Will did not throw her over his shoulder. He slid one arm behind her back and around her waist, and the other for her to grab on to, and walked her over to her chair. Lily sat down too hard, alarmed to hear her breath wheezing in her throat. She fanned herself and breathed as deep as she could, unable to even spare a breath to thank Will for helping her.
Will stood by, watching Lily with a strange look on his face. He fetched her a glass of punch, then stood back again. “I say, Mother dear, perhaps your corset is drawn too tight.” Lily's nostrils flared in annoyance and she was so irritated and so dizzy she could not formulate a retort. “Perhaps I can be of some assistance.” He offered his hand. “Come, I'll loosen it for you that you may take half-breaths instead of quarter-breaths, hm? And then perhaps you shall only swoon half as much.”
Lily wanted to rebuke him but the prospect of more oxygen was too good to pass up. She clung to Will's arm as he led her out of the crowded ballroom and down the deserted hallway. Once they were out of the public eye, Will lifted Lily in his arms, and his brow clouded with concern. It was a foreign expression to his face and Lily wondered if she was seeing things. He poked his head in a few rooms before he found a likely-looking parlor at the end of the hallway, where he shouldered the door open and put Lily down on the couch.
“It is well that you are my Mother, for it would otherwise be unseemly for us to be alone and unchaperoned,” he said, helping Lily sit up so that he could unfasten the dress for her. Her breath was coming in short, spasmodic, shallow gasps as Will worked. “Good God, Minnie's got the touch of a field hand,” he chuckled, “I can scarcely budge her knots... lucky for you, your despicable rake of a son spends plenty of time with sailors and knows his way around a hank of rope. And a corset,” he added with a saucy grin.
“Really Will, if you could just five minutes without saying anything rude,” Lily muttered, but all her complaints evaporated from her mind and mouth when Will finally loosened her corset strings and she drew her first full, deep breath in hours. “Oh thank God.”
“You're welcome, but you can call me Will.” He sat beside her and put a hand on her knee, head tilted to one side as he scrutinized her face. Lily's brow puckered.
“What?” she asked, blushing with that feeling of nakedness that always accompanied Will's gaze.
“Even in the most deplorable of circumstances, you manage to be breathtakingly lovely,” he sighed, putting a hand to her cheek.
“Tis my corset that is breathtaking,” Lily couldn't help but say, her hand drifting up to touch Will's.
“Touche,” said Will, and he leaned forward and kissed Lily deeply, pulling her small body close. Lily resisted for half a second before she melted into his strong, slender arms and let herself succumb to the pleasure of his kiss.