Closer To Sin (14 page)

She watched as Sin stood by the window, looking down into the cottage gardens. From what she could see from her vantage point, the gardens were looking a little bedraggled from the long winter, but they would surely be a riot of colour within a few weeks. Her heart tripped as Sin turned back into the room and raked a hand through his coal dark hair. Just when she thought they were getting to know each other, to understand each other, the whole dynamic of their relationship was about to change again. But regardless of the corner she’d inadvertently backed them into, he had done nothing other than treat her with the utmost concern and deference since their arrival at the inn.

He moved from the window and came to sit on the edge of the bed, and drew a hand gently across her brow. ‘Are you feeling any better? The maid should be here shortly with a pot of tea and a light supper.’

Liliane resisted the urge to hold Sin’s hand to her and instead sat herself up against the bedhead. ‘Much better, and a cup of tea would be lovely. Thank you for carrying me up here. I don’t know what come over me. I feel such a fool.’

‘Actually,
mon fleur
,’ Sin flicked a glance at Liliane’s abdomen, ‘your performance went a long way towards convincing De Bois of the veracity of our claim.’

Liliane bristled. ‘It wasn’t a performance Sin, I—’

Sin stood and raked his hand through his hair before removing back to the window. ‘Christ, I realise that, Liliane. You were the colour of ash—that’s not something that can be faked.’

After a prolonged silence, punctuated only by the crackle of the fire, Liliane drew in a shaky breath. ‘Sin, he can’t really make us marry against our will, can he?’

He turned and rested his hip on the window sill. ‘
Mon fleur
, as far as Lieutenant De Bois is concerned, we’re not getting married against our will.’ His voice was tight with barely controlled fury. ‘We’ve both already made much of the fact that we were indeed on our way here to Boulogne to be wed. And our good friend Claude attested to that fact. You do recall that conversation, don’t you?’

Liliane lurched forward until she was up on her knees. ‘You don’t need to raise your voice at me, Sin. I remember the conversation.’

He dragged a hand through his hair yet again. ‘Well then, be reasonable, Liliane. What would you have us do? Saddle our horses and take to the roads? You saw De Bois’s reaction when I tried to refuse his assistance. It wouldn’t be too difficult to raise his suspicions, and if we were to leave I wager that we’d have the entire French cavalry after us. Trust me, he’s already suspicious of us and the way I see it, we need to call his bluff.’

Ice washed through Liliane’s veins. It was one thing to share a cot and a few stolen kisses in a deserted shepherd’s hut when there was little likelihood of being discovered, but oh God, she’d never be able to explain away a marriage. ‘Sin … I
can’t
marry you.’

‘And why would that be,
mon fleur
?’ His voice was ice. ‘Please don’t tell me you’re already married?’

‘No, but—’ grasping for words, for an explanation that wouldn’t reveal her true identity, Liliane looked everywhere about the room but at Sin. Resolute, she finally settled her gaze on him. ‘The minute we marry you become responsible for me—in every way imaginable. In the eyes of the law, I’ll be little more than another of your possessions.’

She hauled in a deep breath, fighting to calm the quaver in her voice, to still the knot of fear that coiled tighter and tighter within. ‘Good God, I don’t even know the first thing about you, what makes you think I would willingly commit all of my worldly possessions to the care of a near complete stranger … Let alone my very welfare.’

His sardonic laughter filled the room. ‘Oh that’s rich. Like it or not, you ceded responsibility for your welfare to me the day you rode away from Solange’s cottage. And you made your bed—our bed—the minute you flaunted our betrothal and your … condition before De Bois.’

Scorched, Liliane sat back against the bedhead. ‘I have every intention of taking responsibility for my actions, for the situation I’ve put us in. I just think there must be a better solution than having to go through with a wedding. Surely there’s something we haven’t considered yet?’

Sin pushed away from the window and came to sit back on the bed beside Liliane. His voice gentled. ‘It’s no coincidence we’ve been placed in a room on the third floor, and I’d lay odds on De Bois having stationed one of his henchmen at the foot of the stairs.’ He shrugged. ‘None of those things is an obstacle to me—I could be gone from here and halfway to Paris before the sun sets, but I can’t do that and ensure your safety at the same time. What’s more, letting De Bois enact his cat and mouse games will play directly into our hands.’

She sighed softly, fighting to hold back the tears that threatened. ‘So you think this is the perfect opportunity to turn the tables and lay down a few false leads.’

Sin nodded. ‘So running away is not an option, but there is nothing that says this union has to be permanent. Once things have settled down in a few months’ time we would have the option of seeking an annulment. After all, the new Napoleonic Code allows for that.’

A wave of ice washed through her. She would need to return to England and see out the entire Season married to one man while being courted by another. Liliane’s stomach clenched to the point where she was sure she was ready to pass out. Marriage to Freddy Parkes was never going to be a love match, but she didn’t think she had the audacity to be so duplicitous, especially not when Sin would haunt her every waking and sleeping moment.

‘How … ‘ she cleared her throat. ‘How would we arrange it?’

Sin reached over and clasped her hand, drawing it across to his lap, his thumb idly caressing her palm. ‘I suggest we meet back here after September and quietly commence proceedings for the annulment.’ He grinned down at her. ‘You’ll just need to testify that I was a thorough reprobate and frequently brought my mistresses home with me.’

Liliane coughed. ‘You must be joking.’

‘Not a bit. The alternative is to say I beat you mercilessly.’

‘That’s outrageous.’ She looked helplessly at him, drawn to the glint in his fathomless brown of his eyes. Unable to resist when he leaned in and gently kissed her.

That simple contact reignited the intimacy of their shared night in the hut and warmth flooded through her. But as tempting as it was, now was not the time to be distracted by his kisses.

Liliane reluctantly pulled away and processed her options. ‘You seriously intend to go through with this, don’t you?’

‘As serious as you when you proclaimed our betrothal in the first place.’

A sharp rap sounded on the door and at Sin’s command a stream of chamber maids and kitchen hands industriously set to drawing a deep, hot bath in the adjoining room, and serving the much needed pot of tea.

Liliane moved to sit at the small table near the window and breathed in the fragrant scent of the tea while she poured a measure into each of the delicate china cups that accompanied the setting. Looking to Sin she quirked an eyebrow. ‘How do you take your tea?’

‘Black, with a slice of lemon, thank you. What’s to eat? I’m famished.’

She lifted the lids of the serving platters to reveal an array of delicate pastries.

A fragile silence settled on the room as they sat back to enjoy the refreshment. Another tap on the door disrupted their quietude. Rising to open it Sin was greeted by one of the two cavalry men accompanying De Bois. ‘Hugot, is it not?’

‘Monsieur, Lieutenant De Bois has requested I escort you to meet him in the private parlour in one hour’s time, and you’re to bring the
Mademoiselle
with you.’ Having assured himself of their compliance he stepped back, leaving Sin to close the door behind them.

‘Well, it appears Lieutenant De Bois is determined to see us properly wed.’

Liliane turned to face the window, her knuckles gripped white. Never in a thousand years had she envisaged this being the outcome of what had originally seemed like a harmless adventure.

And now she was going to be bound by marriage to this man. To Sin. And despite his protestations, there was no guarantee they would be able to dissolve the union. But the sad irony was, in another lifetime, she would choose Sin whole heartedly. His warmth, his compassion and his strength.

A jolt went through her as he walked over and knelt at her feet. He laid a gentle hand over hers. ‘Come, it’s a game of strategy. Just think of it as a chess manoeuvre. By letting him think he’s winning, we lure him in to our own trap.’

Liliane nodded her head silently, unable to meet his gaze. Sin sighed and stood up. ‘I suggest you take the opportunity to freshen up while the water is still warm. I’ll be back in an hour to collect you.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘To the tap room. I feel the need for a drink.’

Liliane dug trembling fingers into Sin’s arm as they paused in the entrance to the inn’s parlour. She blinked in surprise. Although small, the comfortable furnishings and a wall of windows looking onto the gardens gave the room elegance almost beyond its entitlement.

She caught the innkeeper and his wife watching her and she sent them a smile of gratitude. This may not be the wedding of her dreams, but she was not going to give De Bois the satisfaction of knowing that. Despite the simplicity of her blue woollen gown, it complemented her eyes and lent her the air of confidence she desperately needed. If only her hair had also chosen to cooperate. She had drawn it into a loose knot at the base of her neck but dark strands had already begun to float free and gently curl about her face.

Sin brushed a wisp back and tucked it behind her ear, his touch firm and possessive. ‘You should have asked for a maid to be sent up to assist you.’

She went to shrug the comment away but was caught by the look of concern in his eye. That one small unspoken act of reassurance was enough to ignite tendrils of longing.

How different this day would have been if she were standing on the threshold of St George’s on Hanover Square, her arm tucked firmly against that of Uncle Nate’s, and Sin awaiting her at the altar. She would have no qualms about walking down the aisle to the future that image promised. But those dreams were a long way from reality and there was no place for a man like Sin among the echelons of English society. She swallowed back the lump in her throat. And there was no life for her outside of the strictures of the Ton.

Despite all of her daring, and for all of her need to experience a moment of living for herself, she would never break the hearts of those she loved and subject them to the scandal and humiliation that would befall them.

‘They’re waiting for us.’ Sin’s whispered voice recalled her to their current surrounds.

Liliane swallowed back the acidic taste that bit at the back of her throat as De Bois stepped forward to greet them. He smiled congenially but his eyes remained firmly fixed upon her as though waiting for her to break. He’d be waiting a long time; she wasn’t inclined to give him the satisfaction he craved.

‘Come in, come in. I’d like to introduce the Lord Mayor, Monsieur Moreau. He will perform your wedding ceremony. And in light of, shall we say, certain circumstances—and for a small fee, of course—he has agreed to overlook the precipitous nature of this union.’

Sin drew her forward. ‘Let the games begin.’

Liliane wiped her hand down the side of her gown for what must have been the tenth time and widened her smile, despite the shiver of unease that rippled through her as she passed the two cavalry soldiers lounging insolently by the fire. The gentle pressure of Sin’s hand at her back lent reassurance.

Sin halted her before Monsieur Moreau and greeted him warmly. ‘
Monsieur
, I’m grateful for your kind consideration.’ With a conspiratorial wink at De Bois he continued. ‘At least this way if Liliane’s papa still chooses to shoot me, she’ll have the dignity of widowhood to protect her.’

Looking away from Liliane, De Bois slapped Sin on the back. ‘And if you don’t take care of her I may shoot you anyway. Mademoiselle Beaumont would make a delicious widow.’

Liliane deliberately kept her eyes trained at the ground. The man was utterly repulsive and he obviously overvalued his appeal if he truly hadn’t considered that she’d sooner shoot him than suffer his attentions.

Monsieur Moreau coughed nervously. ‘Gentlemen, if you’re ready we will begin the ceremony.’

Sin nodded.

The small bunch of winter blooms that the innkeeper’s wife had hastily placed in Liliane’s hands began to wilt as she clasped them overly tightly. No matter how hard she fought to concentrate, the words of the celebrant barely registered as one errant thought after another raced through her mind.

A vision of Great-Aunt Woolner in full wrath rose before her and she barely managed to suppress the panic that clawed at her throat. Oh Lord, the Dowager Duchess of Carrick was going to have her sentenced to the tower. Dragging her attention back to the proceedings before her, she realised the celebrant’s words had come to an end and everyone was watching her expectantly.

Sin had retrieved his grandmother’s ring from about his neck and was reaching for her.

Her heart tripped into her throat; that ring meant so much to him. He enfolded her hand in his much larger one and she began to tremble. How hard this must be for him; that ring was infused with the promise of eternal love, and here he was, giving it to her in a betrayal of everything his grandmother believed would be his to carry into the future. When this was over she would give it back to him, and pray that one day he found the love his grandmother had promised.

Sin slid the ring slowly onto her hand and the hair at the nape of her neck prickled. A sensation of heat and energy encircled her finger and dissipated throughout her body. She looked up to meet Sin’s gaze, certain he had felt it too. His eyes were dark with emotion and as he stood looking down at the ring nestled against the base of her finger she blinked away a tear. Inexplicably, in that brief flash, the significance of the vows they had just pledged felt more like an intimate promise of forever than the deceitful lies they truly were.