Prisca beamed. "I told you. I love to sew, and I have a good eye, even if I do say so myself. Do try it on."
Before Lily could respond, Prisca's lady's maid began to unbutton the back of her serviceable, blue-sprigged muslin, which paled considerably in comparison to the work of art her new friend had created.#p#分页标题#e#
In no time, Lily stood before a floor-length mirror admiring herself. The green silk flowed gently down her length, while, at the same time, it forced her bosom higher. Prisca was on her knees with a pincushion, hemming the bottom of the gown.
"Hum. I thought a white ribbon would finish this nicely, but now I'm thinking gold would be better. With your coloring, it will go perfectly." Prisca stood up to examine her handiwork. "You look stunning. Almost like a duchess."
Lily's face grew hot. Simon didn't even want her to stay at Westfield Hall. He certainly didn't want to marry her. "Oh, Prisca, His Grace isn't… I mean I'm only at Westfield Hall so the duke can become more acquainted with my nephew."
Prisca retrieved a wide golden ribbon from her bedside table. When she returned, she wore an allknowing smile. "It might have begun that way, Lily, but I'm certain things have changed."
Lily shook her head. "He wants to send me back to Essex as soon as possible."
"But you're still here. He's had ample time do to so. Raise your arms." Prisca ran the gold ribbon under Lily's bosom. "Listen, the brothers Westfield and Hawthorne were inseparable. I've known Blackmoor my entire life. He's always seemed the most serious of the lot to me, but I've never seen him look the way he did yesterday."
Lily frowned. "What do you mean?"
Prisca returned to her table, retrieving a pair of sewing shears. "I thought he might tear Emory limb from limb."
She hadn't noticed any difference in Simon. He was just as surly as he'd been since she met him. "Why?"
Prisca giggled. "Because of his attention to you. Honestly, Lily, you had to notice. Blackmoor practically dragged you away from my brother. Had you not allowed him to shove you down the hallway, he would have picked you up and carried you."
Lily fought back the blush she knew must be creeping up her neck as the memories of what he did to her after he had her alone flooded her mind. "He seems the same overbearing brute he always was to me."
"He has kissed you." Prisca's violet eyes twinkled. "I can see it on your face."
So much for fighting back the blush. For a moment, she considered denying it, but perhaps Prisca could help. She seemed much more sophisticated than Lily, and she did seem to know how to manage men. Lily nodded. "Then he offered me a dowry to go search out a husband."
Prisca's smile faded. "He did not," she said, her voice dropped dangerously low.
Lily shrugged. "So I don't think being a duchess is in my future."
"The lout!" Prisca almost growled herself. Then she grumbled something unintelligible, though Lily did recognize Will's name somewhere in her hushed rant.
"I don't need to be his duchess, Prisca. But I don't want to leave my nephew."
"Go search out a husband," Prisca repeated, a frown marring her beautiful face. "Stupid Westfield scoundrels." She started to pace the room, and then she stopped suddenly. "If that's how he wants to play it, Lily, I say you pick up the gauntlet."
"I beg your pardon?"
Prisca shook her head. "You are beautiful. I was quite jealous of you when I first laid eyes on you. But then you were so sweet, it would be hard to hate you."#p#分页标题#e#
Prisca Hawthorne thought she was beautiful? Lily couldn't believe it, and she gaped at her friend.
"I can make certain every eligible bachelor within three villages is at the assembly hall tomorrow. We'll see how Simon Westfield enjoys a little competition,
especially when he's the one supplying your dowry."
Lily's mouth fell open. "B-b-but…"
"And you won't go back to Westfield Hall tonight."
"I won't? But Oliver—"
"Survived several days in Essex without you. He can manage one night with those Westfield barbarians watching after him. They're not completely inept, just with women."
Lily bit her bottom lip. The chances of angering Simon were enormous, but it was worth the risk of catching him. She nodded her acceptance.
Fourteen
"Billings!" Simon bellowed as he strode through the corridors of Westfield Hall, growing more and more anxious with every step. He'd searched her room, the music room, and half a dozen parlors, and had even walked through the gardens, but he couldn't find Lily anywhere. The sun was about to set, and he needed to talk to her before he no longer could.