A Season to Be Sinful (47 page)

Lady Rivendale held up one hand. Do not say another word, dear, else I will take my leave as well. I hope that is not an explanation you mean to offer Lily in defense of your actions. She is likely to want to box your ears.

Sherry sat down heavily. Mayhap it is something females cannot comprehend.

My word, Sherry. Such condescension. I believe I may be moved to box your ears myself. You will do much better if you will simply allow that you were wrong and trust that she will be merciful.

He grunted softly. Men are stirred to these actions by their desire to protect women, and I include the lads here. I know you and Lily are of the opinion they are children, but it is only their age, not their experience, that makes them so. Lily believes she has been protecting them when the truth is somewhat different than that. They have been the ones shielding her.

Much struck by this idea, Lady Rivendales brow furrowed. What do you mean?

I cannot explain all of it to you, Aunt. There is so much that is Lilys alone to say, but I can tell you that the boys have long been aware that women of Lilys particular coloring were highly prized by a certain Holborn procurer, shall we say.

I would say pimp, but you must use the Kings English as you see fit. You are speaking of this Ned Craven whose name I have heard.

Sherry sighed. Yes. The lads did a bit of work for Ned from time to time to keep him from snaring Lily. All the while she was trying to keep them out of Neds hands, they were working to keep her out of the same. It is hard to know if they were ever at cross purposes, but there is no question that their intentions were honorable. They stayed close to her, kept a vigil as it were. She used to disguise the color of her hair with blacking, but the boys had learned she was a redhead. They didnt want Ned to discover the same, so they made certain she was properly covered when she was out. They pinched clothes for her so that she could go into the streets as a young man. When they knew Ned was scavenging the streets, they warned her against going out or followed her if she went anyway.

And she knows none of this?

I dont know what she might suspect, but theyve never told her.

Why not?

For the simplest of reasons: they were afraid she would send them away. He spoke to his godmothers skeptical expression. It was a reasonable fear. If Lily thought they were doing things because of her that would endanger them, she would remove herself or remove them. Do not say you doubt iv. That was her objection tu this days piece of work by the scoundrels, and she cannot appreciate that the lads and I share a different view. She would bear all of the risk, and that is unacceptable to us. She might not agree with our perspective, but I should very much like her to respect it. Pinch, Dash, and Midge did nothing more today than theyve done since taking her under their collective wing. What is different is that I knew it and she didnt.

Lady Rivendale was quiet, considering this. Lily is more out of sorts with your part in encouraging them than she is with the part they played. You shall have to set it right with her.

You have some advice, I collect.

I like her immensely, Sherry. My advice is simple: do not muck it up.

Lilys sleep was restless. Several times since coming to bed she felt herself drifting off, only to awaken shortly after and trouble herself by reviewing the days events in her mind. Wondering what choices she might have made in Sherrys position did not make sleep easy to find. Twice she rose and went to the boys rooms, not because she was concerned that they would not be abed but because she needed to believe she was doing something more than pacing off her unsettled nerves.

It was tempting to go to Sherrys bedchamber and settle with him, but she resisted, uncertain of her reception. She had taken him to task for all that might have happenedand didntwhile demonstrating precious little in the way of gratitude for what he had been able to accomplish. It was very poorly done of her, she thought, and he would be well within his rights to show her the door, or at least insist that she stay on the other side of it.

Lily was lying on her back, hugging a pillow to her aching chest and staring at the ceiling, when she heard the sound of breathing that was not her own. Her fingers tightened on the pillow. My lord?

Which lord is that? Woodridge asked, stepping away from the deep shadow beside the fireplace. You will understand my confusion, Lilith.

Lily pushed herself upright and peered into the darkness. She could make him out as he came to stand to the right of one of the wing chairs. He leaned casually against it, resting his elbow on the high back. Eyes narrowing, Lily saw that he carried something long and slender in his hands and that he was passing it back and forth between them. It was when the object tapped against the floor that she realized it was his crystal-knobbed walking stick.

Leave now, she said, and I wont scream.

He shook his head. If you meant to raise the alarm you would have already done so. You do not want to call those boys from their beds. Nor Sherry, either.

Lily screamed. It was a good effort: shrill, loud, and long. As Woodridge got his bearings and lunged for her, she rolled to the opposite side of the bed, taking the pillow with her. Before she could drop to the floor, the baron extended his reach with his walking stick and poked her in the chest. The pillow would have made the blow less punishing if it had only been the flattened tip that shed felt, but Lily heard the revealing snap of the sticks blade being released and understood what was going to happen. She had the fleeting thought that perhaps if she hadnt known what to expect, she wouldnt have experienced the pain quite so keenly, but that first prick was as sharp as the deep thrust of the blade had been in Covent Garden.

She was not without any defense, however, and she used the pillow to keep the knife from sinking into her. deflecting the blade down and to the side. The tip rent her gown and sliced her skin along the underside of her breast, but she held on, protecting her hands with the pillow until she was able to turn and use Woodridges forward momentum to drive the blade and walking stick into the bed.

The baron sprawled across the mattress and lost his grip on the stick. He groped for it blindly. Lily tossed the pillow and yanked the cane out by the knobbed end. Woodridges keening, wounded animal cry startled her so that she nearly dropped the weapon before she could fling it away. All the instincts of survival served her now, and she held on long enough to pitch it like a javelin in the direction of the door.

She felt the barons fingers clawing at her, scrabbling to get a fistful of her nightgown. Lily tore herself away, rolling to the very edge of the bed and dropping over the side. Her knees banged the floor hard. Pressing one hand to her wound, she used the other to push herself to her feet. As her head rose above the edge of the bed, Woodridge cuffed her and knocked her sideways. Dazed, Lily lay there, unable to move. She heard the baron leaving the bed and sensed when he came to stand over her. Still standing, he straddled her. She tensed as he dropped to his haunches.

His first touch was unexpected. Warm. Wet. His fingertip slid too easily along her cheek, made almost frictionless by the thin liquid film that separated his skin from hers. Not tears, she realized. Blood. His blood.

Lily flinched, but she could not escape him. He caught her on the chin, tilting it so he could run his fingertip along the underside and down her throat. She imagined the blood trail he was making, painting her face in the fashion of some ancient Celtic warrior. He continued across her collarbone to her shoulder, then turned her from her side onto her back and pinned her upper arms with his knees. There was more pressure than pain, and in very little time she was numb to the tips of her fingers.

They didnt hear you, he said softly. Have you realized they arent coming?

Because she knew him so well it was far too easy to imagine his eyes boring into her, the ice blue glance sharp enough to cause physical pain. Lily sucked in a breath, and before he could realize her intent, she screamed again.

The barons response was immediate. He sat heavily on her chest, changing the pitch of her scream as air was forced out of her lungs. He grasped the fallen pillow and jammed it across her face, stifling her completely.

Lily struggled, kicking, flailing. She bucked, lifting her back and bottom entirely off the floor to try to heave him to the side. She hadnt the strength to sustain the effort when he would not be moved. He pressed her down and held the pillow in place. Lily could not draw a breath. She recognized the difference between the dark that had surrounded her and the terrible blackness that was absorbing her now. Inky fingers clawed at her scattered thoughts, the vision of Sherry and the scoundrels that she held in her minds eye, and finally at her bodys inability to mount any defense.

Woodridge pulled back the pillow.

Long moments passed, and Lily did not move. She had no sense of coming to awareness, only the sense that she was not dead. She sucked in air, gasping as Woodridge raised himself just enough to relieve the pressure on her chest. The sound was harsh and loud to her own ears, but it was no more than a whisper in the quiet room. Woodridge did not even threaten her with the pillow again. Watching her closely, he laid it to the side.

Your bravado does not interest me, Lilith. I was not wrong that he has changed you, yet there is nothing admirable about what you have become. You should not have left me. I had appreciation for what you were; I did not demand that you become something you are not.

Lilys heart slammed against her chest. Her breathing was ragged. Afraid she might be sick, she turned her head so she wouldnt choke. Woodridge grabbed her chin and wrested it back. She moaned softly as her head swam and her stomach roiled.

Look at me, he said. Where are the documents?

Lily frowned. She understood the words, not their meaning. The light slap Woodridge delivered to her cheek did nothing to improve her comprehension.

Where are the documents, Lilith?

I dont know. It was the simplest answer until she could think of what he meant.

Frustrated, the baron plunged the fingers of one hand into Lilys hair and twisted until he had a fistful of it. Will pain help you apply yourself?

Why didnt you stay away?

Woodridges grip tightened momentarily, then eased. Shall I indulge you? Will that help you remember? He did not wait for her reply. I wonder if you fear for me. You shouldnt, you know. I am able to hold my own with Sheridan, though he would have you believe differently. He was certain he had bested me; it made him overconfident. I took a room at Westin-on-the-Narrows as he could expect that I would, then I left by means that he would not anticipate. Can you imagine me lowering myself from a window, Lilith? It amuses, does it not?

Because he seemed to anticipate she would answer this time, Lily whispered that it did indeed amuse.

I knew you would find it so, he said. But then your understanding of me is very narrow. Would you agree to that?

Yes.

I left the inn and returned straightaway. Sheridan would have done well to send someone to watch for just such a thing, but it has always been his weakness that he is too trusting of a mans word.

Thinking of the boys mad scheme to follow Woodridge, Lily shuddered. The small movement made him bear down on her again as he misinterpreted it as the beginning of another struggle. She forced herself to remain calm and draw short, even breaths. My lord Sheridan believes in honor.

I know. He has never embraced the notion that it is merely something to be manipulated and exploited. Pity, that. For you, I mean. His failure has left you unprotected. That was never so when you were in my home. You were cherished there, Lilith. You cannot deny that it was my way to cherish you.

It was truer that Lily chose not to deny it. His words did not surprise. She had always found that his ability to view his actions in a benign, even benevolent, light to be the single most frightening aspect of his character. It was no different now. She knew he would be able to kill her and justify it to himself as necessary to free her soul.

The baron placed his hands on either side of Lilys head and bent closer. I was not certain I would find you alone. As I waited for the house to grow dark, for the servants to retire, I tortured myself with thoughts of you in Sheridans bed. I wondered what I would do if I found you there. I dont believe there would have been any pleasure in watching you with him. I think it would have enraged me.

The matter-of-fact manner in which he spoke of these things was chilling. Lilys skin prickled. She could no longer feel her arms below the point where he kept them pinned with his knees. She tried to curl her fingers into light fists, but without turning her head to one side to look at her hand, she could not judge her success.

I saw you at your window before you extinguished your candle. I thought you looked lonely, though perhaps it is merely that I want to believe it. Are you lonely, Lily? Were you looking for me when you stood at your window?

She did not respond. The lie would have cost her dearly, perhaps even more than the truth.

Where are the documents? Woodridge asked. What has Sheridan done with them?

I dont know. He told me nothing about

Woodridge pressed his thumbs into her throat, cutting her off. He counted to five under his breath before he eased back. Again, he said softly. Tell me again that you know nothing, and I will kill you. But know that I will find the children next and kill them as well, then Lady Rivendale. Sheridan will be the last, and he will learn that everyone he cares about has gone before him. Can you imagine his suffering? He will beg for me to end it. Mayhap he can be persuaded to do the thing himself. Woodridge moved this thumbs lightly along her neck from the underside of her chin to the hollow of her throat. Will you have that on your conscience, Lilith?