He turned to her last, and he was aware of everyone else moving tactfully away, giving them a modicum of privacy. He took her gloved right hand in both of his and looked into her eyes. They were huge and calm and clear of the tears that were flowing free among the others.

He reached for something to say to her but could think of nothing. She stared mutely at him. He raised her hand to his lips and kept it there for several moments while he closed his eyes. But when he looked back into her face, there was still nothing to say. No, that was not right. There was everything in the world to say but no words with which to say any of it. And so he said nothing.

Until she did.

"Neville." There was almost no sound, but her lips unmistakably formed his name.

Ah, God! How he had longed to hear her say his name again. She had spoken it yesterday afternoon. She was saying it now. But he felt as if his heart had been pierced by a sharp dagger.

"Lily," he whispered, his head bent close to hers. "Stay. Change your mind. Stay with me. We can make it work."

But she was shaking her head slowly.

"We cannot," she said. "We cannot. Th-that night. I am glad there was that night."

"Lily—"

But she tore her hand from his grasp and hurried toward the open door of Elizabeth's carriage. He watched in wretched despair as a footman handed her inside.

She took her seat beside Elizabeth and stared blankly at the cushions of the seat opposite. The footman put up the steps and closed the door. The carriage jerked slightly on its springs and was in motion.

Neville swallowed once, twice. He fought panic, the urge to lunge forward, to tear open the door, to drag her out into his arms and refuse ever to let her go.

He raised a hand in farewell, but she did not look back.

Perhaps never. The words echoed and reechoed in his brain.

Ah, my love. Once dreams were shattered, there could be no assurance that they could ever be pieced together and dreamed again.

 

PART IV

The Education of a Lady

 

Chapter 17

Lily turned a determinedly smiling face to her. She still did not know how she could possibly be a competent companion to Elizabeth, but she would try her very best.

"If you had the freedom and the means to do any one thing in the world you wished to do," Elizabeth asked, "what would it be?"

Go back to Neville. But that would be a nonsensical answer. She had the freedom to go back. He had begged her to stay. But going back to him would mean going back to Newbury Abbey too and all it involved. Lily thought hard. But the answer to the question, she found eventually, should have been obvious to her from the first moment.

"I would learn to read and write," she said. "Is that two things?"

"We will consider it one," Elizabeth said, clapping her hands. "What a delightful answer. I can see that you are not going to be a disappointment, Lily. Now something else. Perhaps we will gather five wishes altogether. Proceed."

Yes, there were other things to dream of, Lily thought. Nothing sufficient to replace the dream she had lost, of course, but perhaps enough to give life some purpose. These new dreams would probably prove unattainable, but then that was the nature of dreams. It was their very attraction. But probably was the all-important word. It allowed for hope.

"I would learn to play the pianoforte," she said with conviction, "and to know all there is to know about music."

"Now that is definitely more than one thing," Elizabeth protested, laughing. "But since I have made the rules of the game, I will allow its essential unity. Next?"

Lily glanced at Elizabeth, who looked both lovely and elegant in carriage clothes that were coordinated in colors of brown, bronze, and cream, and that were perfectly suited to her age and rank and figure and coloring.

"I would learn how to dress correctly and elegantly and perhaps even fashionably," she said.

"But you already look all those things in that particular ensemble, Lily," Elizabeth told her. "Pale blue is certainly a good color for you."

"You chose everything I am wearing," Lily reminded her, "except my shift and my shoes. I could do nothing alone—I would have no idea. To me a garment has always been something that is comfortable and decent and warm in winter or cool in summer."

"Very well, then." Elizabeth smiled. "It is number three. And numbers four and five? Do you have no wish to travel or to acquire expensive possessions?"

"I have traveled all my life," Lily said. "I have dreamed of staying in one place long enough for it to feel like home. And possessions…" She shrugged. What else would she choose to make this list complete? She would read and write and learn about music. She would play the pianoforte and dress well and elegantly. She would…

"I would like to be able to figure," Lily said. "Not just on my fingers or in my head, but—oh, but as Mrs. Ailsham and the countess do in the household books. They showed them to me one morning. They could both make sense of what was written there and they could use the figures to know what had been happening at the abbey and to plan what would happen. I wish I could do that. I wish I could keep books and know how to run something as big and important as Newbury Abbey."

"And your last wish, Lily?"

"I have always been comfortable with other people," she said after thinking for a while longer. "All kinds of people, even the officers when they were a part of the regiment. But I do not feel comfortable with your kind of people. I would like to learn… how to behave, how to converse, how to do what is expected of me. I would like to learn the manners of your class. Not because I aspire to belong to it, but because—oh, I do not know quite why. Because I admire you, perhaps. Because I respect the countess."

Elizabeth said nothing for a while. "I am not sure I should consider your wishes as five, Lily," she said at last. "Really they are all one—the desire for knowledge and the education of a lady. One might add painting and needlework and dancing and the knowledge of languages, perhaps, but they would really be included in one or other of the five things for which you have wished. Do you paint or dance or know any languages other than English? I know that you can darn and mend but not embroider."

"I can speak Hindi and Spanish," Lily said. "We used to dance country dances. I have never painted."

But their conversation was interrupted at that point by the carriage's turning into the cobbled yard of a posting inn for a change of horses. It was amazing to Lily to realize that after the first hour her mind had been pleasantly occupied. She had been almost enjoying herself. And it was all Elizabeth's doing—she had set herself to take her companion's mind off the wretched misery of that parting.

The Duke of Anburey had bespoken a private parlor at the inn, and the six of them dined together. Lady Wilma was ecstatic at the prospect of going at last to London, where the Season would already be in progress. Her conversation was all of balls and routs and theaters and court presentations and Vauxhall and Almack's. It was dizzying to Lily, who forced herself to eat at least a small meal and made no attempt to participate in anything that was being said even when Joseph suggested that the discomforts of their journey were probably nothing compared with those of the sort of traveling she had done in the Peninsula. She smiled vaguely at him even as she realized that, like Elizabeth, he was trying to divert her mind from what weighed it down like a ton of lead.

She kept wondering what he was doing at that precise moment.

Elizabeth resumed their interrupted conversation after Joseph had handed them back into the carriage and they were on their way again.

"Well, Lily," she said, patting her briskly on the knee, "I can see that the next month or two with you are going to be interesting indeed. Did I use the word fun yesterday? The coming months are certainly going to be fun—yes, it is quite the right word. We, my dear, with the help of all the best instructors I can hire, are going to transform you into a lady, with a lady's education and accomplishments—all within a month or two or ten. Obviously some things will take longer than others. What do you say?"

Lily said nothing for several moments. They had been playing a game of what-if, had they not? "No," she said, frowning. "Oh, no. Teachers would have to be paid salaries."

"And the best teachers would have to be paid high salaries." Elizabeth was smiling. "Lily, my dear, I am almost indecently wealthy."

"But you cannot spend any of it on me," Lily said, aghast. "I am your servant."

"Well, yes," Elizabeth agreed. "For your pride's sake I will concede that point, Lily. But servants, you know, have to earn their salaries. And how do they do that? By obeying their employers, by catering to their every whim. I am one of the most fortunate of women, you know, for any number of reasons. But having everything—almost everything—one could possibly need can have its disadvantages, especially when one is a woman. There is a certain boredom with which to contend. I cannot tell you when I last had fun. Overseeing your education will be that, Lily. You must not deny me, not when you have confessed that it is what you want more than almost anything else in this world."

It had not been a game, Lily realized suddenly. And she had not been hired to serve—at least, not in any conventional sense. Elizabeth had intended this all along. She had intended to amuse herself and delight Lily by making a lady out of her.