Something Old

stilted attempts at conversation they’d had during their meals together. They were so out of practice from true conversation with each other and so hesitant in their topics, making the tension in the air more unbearable than any of their previous mealtime conversations, no matter how staid the topics. Imagine having to endure hours of the same, sitting in silence and then having nothing to say in the intervals.
Why was he trying to talk to her now? What was to be gained from that?
While there was awkwardness, she could not approach the subject of children. If they were to find a new ground to stand upon in their marriage, they would need to be firmly planted there before she dared request to change things again.
Which meant more waiting and more enduring.
They entered the box and arranged their seats within, and Lily left the seat to her left open, Kate taking the seat on her right.
Would Thomas take it? Would he take advantage of the opportunity to sit beside her? If he truly wanted to be in London with her, if he wished to be more open with her, if there was any intention of drawing closer to her, she’d leave a place for him to try.
Kate sat and turned to speak softly with her husband, a coy smile on her lips and a flirtatious edge to her tone. Lord Whitlock sat behind her, his grin inviting, his fingers tracing the edge of his wife’s delicate sleeve on her upper arm.
It was an intimate scene, enough that Lily felt more an intruder than an observer. She looked away but found her attention drawn back repeatedly.
A mixture of curiosity and envy.
How could they get to this place from where they had been? How had they bridged years of pain in such a way? Was it possible that Lily and Thomas could find the same?
Thomas would have to love her first. Small details.
Her eyes flitted to the empty seat beside her, the rest of her body attuning to the position of her husband.
He was behind her still, standing, she thought, and was saying nothing. Since she could not see, she could not say if his attention was attuned on her, on the stage, or on the Whitlocks. For some reason, it mattered which of the three had his focus.
If any of them did.
And she desperately wanted him to sit beside her, even if they did not speak. Why wouldn’t he sit?
“Pardon me, Lily,” Kate suddenly broke in, turning to Lily, her cheeks rosier from flirtation with her husband. “I’ve abandoned you.”
“Not at all,” Lily said, looking behind her briefly to see her husband situating himself in the chair beside Lord Whitlock behind the ladies rather than the seat beside her.
Her stomach clenched in distress, and she rubbed her gloved fingers together in her lap. Either her husband was unobservant, or he was stupid.
She wasn’t sure which was worse. Or, perhaps, he did not care.
But if that was the case, why had he said he wanted to go to London with her? What was the point of pretending they would become something if they were not going to attempt it?
“I could have been well attended,” Lily added in an undertone, shaking her head.
Kate leaned closer, distracted by the other guests in the theatre with them. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” She swallowed with some difficulty, focusing her attention on the stage. “Not a thing.”
“I hope you don’t mind,” Kate began in a lower voice, “but I asked Whitlock to make Granger comfortable this evening. I know he does not particularly like the theatre, nor being out and about in Society, and Whitlock isn’t all that fond, either. Perhaps they can form a friendship.”
Lily managed a fleeting smile. “Wonderful. Granger could use more of those.”
Kate narrowed her eyes at Lily for a moment. “Dear girl, I enjoy every opportunity to associate with you, as you should know. I do happen to know that you are closer to Marianne Gerrard and Lady Gemma Blackmoor. Why would you opt to spend time with me rather than them?”
“I’m having tea with them tomorrow,” Lily assured her, forcing a lightness into her tone that she did not feel. “Marianne’s children are so young, and Gemma isn’t out yet after having her son.”
“And you are having difficulty with being the only unhappy, childless mother of your friends.”
Lily bit down on her lip very gently, her eyes flicking back to her husband before returning to Kate. “Yes.”
Kate nodded very slowly as the overture for the opera began. “You are happy for them, but the reminder of your own deprivation of the same wears on you.”
All Lily could do was nod, her throat tightening. She cleared her throat, reaching for Kate’s hand. “Please don’t tell them. I couldn’t bear for them to think they need to hide their children or their love for their husbands… I want to share in their joy, be part of it, but sometimes I cannot keep from feeling selfish.”
“There is no crime in that,” Kate assured her. “Was that why you were planning to remain in the country this Season?”
Again, Lily nodded, pretending to adjust the gloves at her elbow. “My enjoyment in London centers around my friends, not Society. The seclusion of Rainford suits us both, and I have enough there to occupy me.”
Kate’s eyes widened, searching Lily’s. “Then why are you here, Lily? Why be miserable in London when you can be comfortable in Hampshire?”
Lily pointedly shifted her eyes behind them, and Kate’s eyes followed, then returned with a knowing light. “I was invited,” Lily murmured.
“Ah.”
“I still hope,” Lily told her in a whisper, finally admitting it to herself at the same time. “I shouldn’t, but I do. And I’m here now, and nothing has changed. I still hope, Kate.”
“Good,” Kate replied in the same tone. “Don’t stop if you can help it. Don’t.” Her eyes flicked to Thomas behind them, then back to Lily. “Give him a chance. And yourself.”
Lily tilted her head just a little,