**The Illusion of Deception**
Working at the Royal Academy of Music, Lillian had never cared for much in life except music. It had been her world since childhoodher mother and the piano. At twenty-eight, she was unmarried, having briefly dated a colleague before their paths divergedtoo complicated when both were fiercely talented, each lost in their own universe.
Lately, though, shed been seeing Oliver, a solicitor. Theyd met by chance at a café near the academy. She hadnt wanted to go homenot since shed buried her mother. The silence of the flat was unbearable.
“Excuse me, why so glum?” Oliver had approached, watching her over the rim of his coffee cup. “Im Oliver. And you?”
She was beautiful, distant. Intriguing.
“Lillian,” shed replied softly, offering a faint smile.
Since then, theyd grown closer. Oliver often stayed over, even proposed. But she couldnt bring herself to say yes.
“I cant, Olly. Not yet. Its too soon after losing Mum.”
Her mother had raised her alone. Lillian had never known her fatherwho he was, where hed gone. Shed never asked. It had always felt like a wound her mother preferred to ignore. And now? Now it was just her. The grief pressed down like a lead weight. Lately, shed even wonderedshould she try to find him?
“I dont even know how I feel about it,” she confessed to Oliver. “What if he doesnt want to know me?”
Lillian had lived in a bubbleher mother handled everything, leaving her free to lose herself in music. Not that her mother hadnt warned her.
“Lily, love, youve got to learn these things. Whatll you do when Im gone? Youre too dreamy for your own good!”
“Oh, Mum, youre brilliant at all this. Why should I bother?”
But life had a cruel way of teaching lessons. Her mother fell ill suddenlygone before Lillian could process it. The doctors had only shrugged.
“Too late, Im afraid.”
“But she never complained!”
“Some people dont. Theyd rather spare the ones they love.”
Oliver was sharp. The first time hed stepped into Lillians flat, hed paused at the paintingsexpensive, though shed never given them a second glance. He, however, knew their worth.
Evenings were spent with Lillian at the piano, practicing for concerts while Oliver listenedor pretended to. Hed long since realised there was more to gain than love here. Rifling through her mothers papers, he found letters mentioning a great-aunt in Scotland. The sooner he married Lillian, the bettersole heir to everything.
It annoyed him she kept refusing. She barely knew him, and some nagging doubt held her back. But Oliver was persistent, pressing the matter whenever he could. Then he discovered she wanted to find her father.
One evening, he arrived with news.
“Weve got guests coming tonight. Lets grab some champagne on the way.”
“Guests? Who?”
“I found your father.”
“Oliverreally? Where? I always imagined he lived abroad, or”
“Right here in London.”
Half an hour later, the doorbell rang. Oliver answered. Lillian saw a tall, dark-haired man.
“Darling!” He rushed to embrace her. “Ive never seen youlook at you! Youre lovely. Im Robert.”
Her middle name *was* Roberta, after all.
“We parted ways before your mother knew she was expecting,” Robert explained.
Oliver seized the moment.
“Robert, since things have worked out so splendidly, may I ask for Lillians hand?”
Lillian, still reeling, blinked in confusion.
“If Oliver loves you, Ive no objections,” Robert said, smiling. “Just send me the wedding invite!”
From then on, Robert visited oftenthough curiously vague about the past. They hadnt been together long, he claimed.
Lillian sent an invite to her great-aunt Margaret and her husband. They arrived earlyMargaret insisted on helping with the wedding prep, stepping in for her late sister.
One evening, the doorbell chimed.
“Goodness, what a journey!” Margaret huffed. “Trains these days!”
Oliver excused himself, leaving Lillian with her relatives.
“Great-aunt, I found my fatherwell, Oliver did.”
“Oh? Whats his name?”
“Robert. My middle names Roberta, so it must be true.”
Margaret exchanged a look with her husband.
“Trouble, Lily,” she sighed.
“What trouble?”
“Your fathers name wasnt Robert. It was Edward. Edward Whitmore. Your mother made up your middle name. She didnt want you knowing. Edward was the dean of your music college.”
“Edward Whitmore? Butthats my old professor! Then whos Robert?”
“Thats what well be asking Oliver tomorrow. Whys he staging this charade? By the way, you havent sorted the inheritance yet, have you? The six-month marks next week.”
“No, I need to see the solicitor. But its just the flat, surely”
“Lord above, child! Youve no idea, do you? Those paintings? Worth a fortune. Your grandparents left your mother a sizeable estate. And since weve no children, youll get ours too.”
She cancelled the wedding.
Lillian had never cared about money. But now, with Margarets revelations, she wonderedwhy had Oliver been in such a hurry?
“Great-aunt, does Edward know about me?”
“No. His mother arranged a better match for him. By the time your mother realised she was pregnant, hed married someone elsetricked into it. He loved your mother, but when he later saw her with a child, he assumed shed moved on. She never told him. As for Robert? Ask Oliver.”
That evening, Oliver got a nasty shock. Lillian had packed his things. Under Margarets stern gaze, he didnt arguejust left. Robert vanished too.
“I feel lighter,” Lillian admitted. “Something never sat right with Oliver.”
The next night, returning from work, Margaret greeted her with a smile.
“Weve a guest tonight.”
“Who now?”
“Wait and see.”
The doorbell rang. Margaret returned, arm in arm with Edward Whitmore.
“My God,” he murmured. “You look just like me. Forgive me, darling. I never knew.”
They talked late into the night. Lillian learned she had a half-brothera soldier, stationed abroad.
“Only you inherited my love of music,” Edward said warmly. “Im so proud.”
“FunnyI always wondered why I adored it when the rest of the family were engineers!”
In time, Edward introduced her to his wife, Gracekind, welcoming. Later, she met her brother on leave.
A year later, Lillian married James, a university economics lecturerthe son of Edwards old friend, smitten from their first meeting.
Margaret and her husband beamed at the wedding. James was steady, reliable.
And Lillian? She was finally home.
