Page 31 of Broken

Lilly blushed as Mrs. Osprey crossed the room, eyeing the disaster Giles had created about her feet. “I take it the master was searching after something in particular.”

“He wanted to dress me,” Lilly blurted, still confused by Giles’ abrupt departure.

The housekeeper’s eyebrows shot up, and then she smoothed her expression to show nothing but mild interest. “Well, let’s see what he has laid out for you.”

Lilly stood and handed the shift and stockings to the housekeeper. With Mrs. Osprey’s help, Lilly donned the unfamiliar clothing, skin itching as the layers covered her body.

When the last button slipped closed, Mrs. Osprey let her look at her reflection in a tall mirror. A tiny woman gazed back, hair a tangled mess about her face. While she bit her lip, Mrs. Osprey gathered her hair and smoothed the strands back behind her head in a tight knot.

“I look like my mother.”

No sooner had the words passed her lips than Lilly wanted to call them back. She resembled her mother very closely, and the tight hairstyle only heightened the similarities.

Mrs. Osprey let her hair fall. “I think a softer style would suit you better, and be more comfortable. Come sit at the dresser and let me see what I can do.”

Lilly sat gingerly on the low stool but couldn’t watch Mrs. Osprey. While the housekeeper tugged and pinned, Lilly thought of Giles. Would he still be pleased to see her if she resembled her mother?

Lady Winter was very beautiful, starkly elegant and a sought-after companion. She also boasted a loyal band of male admirers who enjoyed her tart tongue as she flailed at the less-admired ladies of the ton.

Laughing at some poor creature’s expense had never appealed to Lilly. But her mother managed to get away with her slights, and all because of her beauty. Lilly didn’t ever want to be like her.

Mrs. Osprey placed a hand upon her shoulder. “There now. The master couldn’t help but be pleased.”

Lilly looked up at a stylish young woman, wispy hair allowed to escape the twisted knot on the back of her head and softening the sharp ridges of cheek and chin. Lilly smiled. Mrs. Osprey had managed to mute her resemblance to her mother, giving her softness where her mother had none.

Just to be sure that she wasn’t imagining her improved appearance, Lilly pinched her own skin. “I…”

Lilly couldn’t find the words to express her gratitude at first and the housekeeper turned away, collecting Lilly’s nightgown until she might have a chance to control her emotions. “Thank you, Mrs. Osprey. I don’t believe I’ve ever looked so well.”

Mrs. Osprey beamed. “Nonsense. You were a very pretty girl. Your mama just never let anyone see you.”

Lilly smiled, but then a flash of a memory burst into her mind. A younger Mrs. Osprey, twining ribbons through her hair, chuckling at Lilly’s insistence she be her personal maid. The image contained the sharp pain of emotion.

Lilly had been as happy then as she was now. The young girl had been excited to be at her future home, whereas Lilly, at her present age, looked forward to nothing, because that future would never be.

* * *

Women always seemed to take some time dressing, so Giles was not surprised that, after all he had done outside, he still had to wait a few minutes more for Lilly. The time gave him a chance to consider if he had been at all excessive in his dealings with the woman.

He did not want her to think he was courting her, but was unable to bear seeing her unhappy, disappointed face. An altogether startling revelation, and one he would take great pains to hide.

Giles dragged his mind away from Lilly, toying with the idea of adding another garden to the north of the house, until the door opened behind his back.

Lilly was stunning. Lemon muslin suited her perfectly. The dress was just a little long and trailed on the ground at her feet, but the bodice molded over her breasts like a glove. If he could just have his hands inside those gloves, he would be a perfectly happy man for the rest of his life.

She smiled shyly at him and Giles walked forward to better view Mrs. Osprey’s handiwork. Disappointment flashed through him as he saw that her hair had been pinned and pulled back into an elegant knot, with dark tortoiseshell combs attempting to hold back most of the stray wisps.

He let his gaze dip to the creamy expanse of shoulder and chest that was now exposed to his gaze and could not hold back the devilish thoughts that occurred to him. It was a shame that those same thoughts must have flowed straight across his face.

Mrs. Osprey scowled at him and slipped a soft shawl around Lilly’s shoulders that reduced, but did not completely hide, his view. He was glad he had not chosen a sturdier, and consequently more prudish, gown. The view was spectacular. His sister would never look as well in it.

Giles held out his arm, quite prepared to escort Lilly anywhere. After a moment’s hesitation, she placed her hand on him.

A muffled sob escaped Mrs. Osprey. When Giles flicked his eyes in her direction, he found the housekeeper’s face tear-stained but smiling. Happy tears were the one thing about women he had never completely understood. Why cry when something nice happens?

He led Lilly to the top of the stairs, swept her up into his arms, and carried her down, feeling her skirts tangle between his legs in an innocent provocation.

He was hardening by the time he reached the bottom step. To hide his reaction from any gawking servants, Giles carried Lilly through the drawing room and exited out into the sunshine.