Free Once an Heiress by Elizabeth Boyce Page A

squealed when she caught sight of Lily. She wore a lilac muslin dress with a lightweight shawl draped over her arms. Her reddish-gold hair was done up in a simple twist.
    She embraced Lily and stepped back, her hands resting on Lily’s arms. “You look lovely, my dear. Please give me the direction of your modiste — that chintz is divine.”
    Lily’s lips twitched and she shot an amused glance in her mother’s direction.
    “Miss Bachman!” said the other newcomer. “I trust you are engaged in an improving activity.”
    “Yes, Lady Janine,” Lily said, wrapping her arms around Naomi’s aunt.
    “Pray, do not make me correct your address yet again, m’dear,” the woman said.
    Lily laughed. “Yes, Aunt Janine,” she replied.
    Lady Janine had never married, and so took particular interest in the doings of her niece and nephews. She had taken both Lily and Isabelle under her wing last Season, and insisted they also address her as Aunt. The older lady was a hopeless bluestocking, forever absorbed in some course of study, and shamelessly encouraged the young ladies to follow suit.
    “Shall we adjourn to the sitting room?” Mrs. Bachman was already moving toward the door.
    “Oh, no,” Aunt Janine replied in a faraway voice. “This will do very well.” She walked the length of the massive bookshelves, running her fingers over the spines of the numerous volumes.
    “Bosh,” Mrs. Bachman, argued, “not a bit of it. No one wants to hang about these dusty old books. This room always puts me in mind of a tomb. Let’s repair to the sitting room. So much pleasanter.”
    Aunt Janine’s jaw dropped open in horror.
    “Mama,” Lily said firmly, forestalling any further offense toward Aunt Janine. “This will do.”
    Mrs. Bachman looked from her daughter to Aunt Janine and back again. Then she sniffed. “Very well.” She took a seat near the fireplace and gestured for the others to join her.
    “How is Her Grace?” Mrs. Bachman inquired of Naomi. “I was surprised to hear she would not be to town this spring; I trust she’s not unwell?”
    “Her Grace fares well at Helmsdale,” Naomi answered in an ambiguous tone that sparked Lily’s curiosity. “Aunt Janine is staying with Lord Grant and me here in town.”
    Tea arrived. Naomi helped her serve the older ladies, then they strolled around the room together. When they’d reached the opposite side of the library, Naomi asked, “Have I missed anything?”
    Lily shook her head. “Just the usual preening and posturing.”
    “Hmm,” Naomi said. She threw a sidelong smile at Lily. “We only just arrived yesterday, but I’ve already heard one interesting tidbit.”
    “Oh?”
    Naomi inclined her head toward Lily. “I heard,” she whispered, “that
someone
has had to ask all her suitors to form an orderly queue at the door.”
    Lily snorted. “I believe what you’ve heard has been exaggerated.”
    “But no betrothal?” Naomi asked. “After so many offers already?”
    “No.” Lily shook her head. “I’m really not interested in marrying just yet. Besides,” she said, inclining her head toward the table where her papers were still laid out, “I have work to occupy me.”
    She hoped to steer the conversation away from her gaggle of hopefuls, but Naomi refused to be redirected.
    “Has no one captured your notice?”
    A picture of Lord Thorburn’s provokingly handsome face sprang to mind.
    “There is someone!” Naomi giggled. “You’re blushing. Now you
must
tell all.”
    “There’s nothing to tell,” Lily insisted. “The only man who has captured my notice has done so because he’s insufferable and rude and — ”
    “Handsome?” Naomi supplied.
    “That, too,” Lily admitted, “but it doesn’t matter when his character is so — ”
    “Who is it?” Naomi asked.
    Lily pressed her lips together.
    “Out with it!”
    “Lord Thorburn,” Lily whispered.
    Naomi’s eyes flew wide. “Thorburn!” she yelped.
    “What was that?” Mrs.