The Revenge of Lord Eberlin by Julia London

joint rather easily. You may trust me; I have known her for nigh on thirty years. ”
    Aunt Althea had been particularly adept at bringing the county together in charity for the good of the whole, and Lily wished that she could do the same. She wanted to belong. She wanted to marry, to have a family she might call her own. But it seemed hers would be a slow ascent.
    “Nevertheless, Lady Ashwood, these are the women that might help you to make an advantageous match. I can think of no better way to save Ashwood at present. Might I suggest a soiree of some sort?”
    “A proper soiree will require funds, Mr. Fish.”
    “In my opinion, the gains will justify the expense. It might be just the thing to bring Hadley Green around to you. I ask that you at least consider it.” Mr. Fish glanced at his pocket watch. “I beg your pardon, but I must go and see to the chambermaid.”
    Lily slouched in her seat, feeling exhausted by the day’s events. She could not bear the thought of begging these women to come to her . . . but she had to agree that an evening soiree for society might be just the thing.
    She thought of Tobin and the dreadful feeling that she would be forced to beg someone for a match to save Ashwood from him. No matter how she looked at it, she could see that Mr. Fish was right.
    Yet she could not help thinking of the way Tobin had looked at her on the drive, as if he despised her and wanted her both. And that curious moment when Lily believed she had seen a flash of something vulnerable in his expression, almost as if she’d been seeing the edge of a wound, a glimpse that she found oddly intriguing. Not that it changed her opinion of him, not in the least. He was a ruthless, angry man who had pushed her into a corner with alarming ease. And Lily was determined to get out of the corner before he forced her into marrying some man she scarcely knew.
    She was still brooding about it when she went up to change for tea. Her fingers trailed down the curved dual mahogany staircase railing, and she could feel the curve of the vine Mr. Scott had carved into the railing.It meandered up to the first floor, with leaves and an occasional flower to adorn it. She wondered idly how long such craftsmanship took. A year? More? Less?
    And she thought of the little stool for the pianoforte in the music room. That curious stool, made to accompany a pianoforte brought all the way from Italy, its color so close to the pianoforte’s that only a keen eye would discern a difference.
    Lily abruptly turned toward the music room. Inside, she lit a small candelabrum and stared down at the stool.
    Was it possible she’d been wrong about all that had happened here?
    The day she’d come back to Ashwood Keira had dragged her in here to show her the stool and had sparked a memory that had been lurking at the edge of Lily’s mind. But a memory of what? Had there been an affair between them? There was no evidence of it, really, nothing but this stool.
    Lily knelt down and turned the stool over and read the inscription: You are the song that plays on in my heart; for A, my love, my life, my heart’s only note. Yours for eternity, JS.
    Lily could remember her aunt sitting here, playing. Had she known the inscription had been there? Had she thought that Mr. Scott had been sadly misguided, or had she welcomed his sentiment? Either was entirely possible—Lily and Keira both had received gifts from gentlemen whom they had not encouraged.
    Still, if Keira’s theory was true, and Lily’s aunt and Mr. Scott had been lovers, the possibilities of what that meant were too disconcerting for Lily to contemplate.
    It upset her now; she righted the stool, blew out the candelabra, and quit the room. She made her way to her suite, questioning everything she thought she knew. Where were the jewels? If Mr. Scott had stolen them, what had become of them? If he hadn’t stolen them, where were they? Why had they never surfaced?
    And when she made her way downstairs