smile. “Not at all.”
She’d retired directly after supper last night, pleading a headache.
The events of the afternoon had come crashing down on her, overloading her mind
and draining her body.
Each and every time she’d tried to tell Evelyn about yesterday, the
words had jumbled in her throat. She didn’t know where to start, what to say
and what to leave out.
Lily was determined to believe the entire episode resided in her head
and she was terrified the cold facts would conspire against her if she listed
them out loud—or even thought about them for too long. It would be too easy for
the ridiculous to make sense, for the impossible to sound plausible, when her
counter-excuses and explanations were so flimsy.
Evelyn faced her from the opposite bench. Her usual sophisticated
elegance drowned in the full-length velvet cloak she wore from last winter’s
season, before the Paris summer had reduced the wide crinolines to panelled
skirts and single petticoats.
There was nothing unusual, however, about the curious gleam in her
eyes. “Then it must be Lord Dashing who’s occupying all your thoughts.”
“I wish you wouldn’t call him that.”
“Pah. Even after— especially after the mysterious incidents of yesterday, I find more and more to recommend
in the man.”
“I’m not surprised. You love to flirt with danger and Lord Adair has
it steaming from his pores.” The image of smoke billowing from his celludrone’s
trousers was instantaneous and so vivid, Lily could almost taste the acrid
smell of melted celluloid and burnt hair. The impact shuddered down her spine.
Evelyn didn’t miss it. She leaned forward and spoke softly. “I’m as
good at keeping confidences as I am at flirting. Won’t you talk to me?”
Lily opened her mouth.
To say what?
Evelyn knew about the spells she suffered from. But this time she’d
felt things she shouldn’t know how to feel. White-cold fear. The vibration of
death rattling through her veins.
This time she’d seen things her imagination couldn’t begin to
fabricate. If it had been a premonition, a glimpse into a future that Lord
Adair had abruptly changed with his quick actions, how did she explain him having
the exact same vision?
And she was right back to where she’d started, giving far too much
credence to a stupid flaw inside her head that had nothing to do with reality.
“There’s not much more to say than what I’ve already told you,” she
said instead. “You did promise to drop the matter.”
Evelyn looked at her a moment more, then sat back in her bench and
moved her probing gaze outside the carriage’s small window. “And you promised
to at least attempt to enjoy the outing.”
“The midday sun is high and I have my walking boots on,” Lily said
lightly. She’d attended the official opening by Queen Victoria last month and
had been immediately entranced with Battersea Park. The lakes and rock features
were spectacular. One could stroll for miles along the leafy paths and prettily
arched pedestrian bridges laid out over the park. “I’m fully prepared to have a
glorious day.”
The drive cut through a tall ridge of Elm trees and then a flat,
grassy field stretched before them. Large tents, most striped in vivid colours,
had been erected along one side of the field. Ladies in all their finery
strolled back and forth. Well-dressed children darted in and around their
harassed-looking nannies and the activities.
The men, far outnumbering the female contingent, seemed less particular
and their attire ran the gauntlet from three-piece suits with neck cloths to
barely-dressed at all in tweed trousers and linen shirts. Hundreds of
conversations bled into each other and rumbled up into the Aether.
“I never realised risqué sports had become so popular,” Lily said as
the carriage drew to a halt.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to make Devon understand.” Evelyn flung
open the door and stepped down before William had even jumped down
She’d retired directly after supper last night, pleading a headache.
The events of the afternoon had come crashing down on her, overloading her mind
and draining her body.
Each and every time she’d tried to tell Evelyn about yesterday, the
words had jumbled in her throat. She didn’t know where to start, what to say
and what to leave out.
Lily was determined to believe the entire episode resided in her head
and she was terrified the cold facts would conspire against her if she listed
them out loud—or even thought about them for too long. It would be too easy for
the ridiculous to make sense, for the impossible to sound plausible, when her
counter-excuses and explanations were so flimsy.
Evelyn faced her from the opposite bench. Her usual sophisticated
elegance drowned in the full-length velvet cloak she wore from last winter’s
season, before the Paris summer had reduced the wide crinolines to panelled
skirts and single petticoats.
There was nothing unusual, however, about the curious gleam in her
eyes. “Then it must be Lord Dashing who’s occupying all your thoughts.”
“I wish you wouldn’t call him that.”
“Pah. Even after— especially after the mysterious incidents of yesterday, I find more and more to recommend
in the man.”
“I’m not surprised. You love to flirt with danger and Lord Adair has
it steaming from his pores.” The image of smoke billowing from his celludrone’s
trousers was instantaneous and so vivid, Lily could almost taste the acrid
smell of melted celluloid and burnt hair. The impact shuddered down her spine.
Evelyn didn’t miss it. She leaned forward and spoke softly. “I’m as
good at keeping confidences as I am at flirting. Won’t you talk to me?”
Lily opened her mouth.
To say what?
Evelyn knew about the spells she suffered from. But this time she’d
felt things she shouldn’t know how to feel. White-cold fear. The vibration of
death rattling through her veins.
This time she’d seen things her imagination couldn’t begin to
fabricate. If it had been a premonition, a glimpse into a future that Lord
Adair had abruptly changed with his quick actions, how did she explain him having
the exact same vision?
And she was right back to where she’d started, giving far too much
credence to a stupid flaw inside her head that had nothing to do with reality.
“There’s not much more to say than what I’ve already told you,” she
said instead. “You did promise to drop the matter.”
Evelyn looked at her a moment more, then sat back in her bench and
moved her probing gaze outside the carriage’s small window. “And you promised
to at least attempt to enjoy the outing.”
“The midday sun is high and I have my walking boots on,” Lily said
lightly. She’d attended the official opening by Queen Victoria last month and
had been immediately entranced with Battersea Park. The lakes and rock features
were spectacular. One could stroll for miles along the leafy paths and prettily
arched pedestrian bridges laid out over the park. “I’m fully prepared to have a
glorious day.”
The drive cut through a tall ridge of Elm trees and then a flat,
grassy field stretched before them. Large tents, most striped in vivid colours,
had been erected along one side of the field. Ladies in all their finery
strolled back and forth. Well-dressed children darted in and around their
harassed-looking nannies and the activities.
The men, far outnumbering the female contingent, seemed less particular
and their attire ran the gauntlet from three-piece suits with neck cloths to
barely-dressed at all in tweed trousers and linen shirts. Hundreds of
conversations bled into each other and rumbled up into the Aether.
“I never realised risqué sports had become so popular,” Lily said as
the carriage drew to a halt.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to make Devon understand.” Evelyn flung
open the door and stepped down before William had even jumped down
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