Her Secret Fantasy (21 page)

“Very well—”

“And if he starts asking you any questions about how much money I have, I want you to tell me so!”

“Without hesitation,” she soothed.

He heaved a rueful sigh and dropped his head. “It’s good to know I have you on my side, anyway.”

She smiled at him, but in the back of her mind, she felt the first stirrings of wonder that it did not even cross Edward’s mind to be jealous of her where “the stud of the Season” was concerned. Derek had warned her that Edward knew she was mainly after his fortune, but was her suitor so very confident of her financial desperation that he believed that nothing would make her jeopardize his favor? His certainty that he had her in the palm of his hand rankled her old Balfour pride.

Edward glanced at the door to make sure her chaperone was still absent as he stole over to her and sat on the couch by her side. “My dear Miss Balfour.” Boldly, he took her hand. “All these questions, you know, aren’t the only reason I came.”

She gave him a dubious look. “There’s more?”

“Of course! I wanted to see you. But that can’t come as a surprise. You are well aware, I think, that you are my favorite lady.”

“Am I?”

“Of course you are! Next only to my mother. Favorite and only.”

“Let’s not forget Miss Kingsley.”

“Her?” He snorted, but to Lily’s arch amazement, the great brute blushed a bit.

“And what about your new acquaintance, Mrs. Coates?” she persisted, acting as if she were jealous. “Last night you seemed quite awestruck by her beauty.”

He laughed uncomfortably. “Well, none of them have captured my interest like you, dear. Lily—” Bravely, he tested the use of her first name and pressed her hand more tightly. “Let me prove my sincere admiration. May I…” His husky words faded as he shrugged off seeking permission and suddenly kissed her.

Lily’s eyes shot open in shock, but Edward’s were closed as he squashed his cold lips against hers.

She held motionless, praying that Mrs. Clearwell would not walk in on this. It was too embarrassing! Oh, Lord, she thought, waiting with heroic patience for him to finish up. For a heartbeat, she struggled to muster up some shade of the wild thrill she had experienced in answer to Derek’s kiss at the garden folly, but the experiment proved in vain.

Nothing.

The same could not be said for Edward. Unable to take any more of his attentions, she managed to pry him off her at last. His eyes were glazed.

“My darling,” he rasped. “Forgive me.”

“No matter,” she said briskly, wiping off her lips as she turned away in discreet distaste.

Edward rose at the sound of Mrs. Clearwell’s loud “ahem!” from outside the parlor door. “Good day—Miss Balfour,” he said hesitantly.

Lily folded her hands in her lap once more. “Good day, Mr. Lundy.”

She answered his bow with a graceful nod, then watched him guardedly as he walked out of the drawing room, bade Mrs. Clearwell a polite good afternoon, and showed himself the door.

The moment she heard the door close, Lily collapsed into the cushions behind her and pressed a hand vaguely to her thumping heart. Her whole body felt limp with relief at that narrow escape.

“He didn’t mention the earrings—thank God!” she reported as Mrs. Clearwell glided in with the tea.

“I heard,” her sponsor said sternly.

“You did?” Lily glanced up at her in surprise.

“I am your chaperone, darling. It is my God-given right, nay, my duty to eavesdrop. Now, then.” Mrs. Clearwell set a cup of tea on its saucer before her and sat down to perch on the low table across from the couch. “You let him kiss you?”

“Yes,” she admitted ruefully. “It was horrid.”

“I am glad,” she shot back. “Drink your tea, dear. You’re as pale as a sheet.”

“That was fast,” Lily mumbled as she accepted her cup.

“Eliza knows us well. She had already put the water on to boil.”

Indeed, the sip of soothing tea with sugar and milk helped restore a modicum of calm, which was fortunate, for in the next moment, Lily was going to need it.

Mrs. Clearwell shook her head ominously. “Any day now, you are going to have to make a momentous decision, my girl. First a kiss, next a proposal of marriage. You’ll need to be sure.”

But I am sure, my decision is already made,
Lily wanted to say. Instead, she found that she faltered.

Was it?

“Lily, darling.” Mrs. Clearwell cupped Lily’s cheek in maternal tenderness for a moment. “You know I adore you, but you cannot marry one man when your heart is fixed upon another. It would be wrong.”

Lily could only gaze at her, at a loss.

“Well, you’ve already been through enough for one day, so I will say no more. I have faith in you to do the right thing.”

“Ma’am, I am sorry if I embarrassed you with my behavior in the midst of that whole—debacle.”

She rose. “Yes, well, love makes people do foolish things.”

“Love!”

“You heard me.” Taking her cup of tea with her, Mrs. Clearwell wafted back toward the door. “I’m worn out from all our shopping. I’m off to take my nap.”

“But Mrs. Clearwell, he’s going back to India!” Lily burst out before her sponsor disappeared.

“La, child! Plans change,” her godmother assured her with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

Lily’s shoulders drooped as she considered this uncertainty. “You mustn’t tell him about the earrings, in any case. He’d be mortified, proud as he is.”

Mrs. Clearwell pretended to button her lips. Then she paused. “I could attempt to get them back for you, you know.”

“No, ma’am.” Lily shook her head. “I would never put that debt on you. It was my choice and my responsibility to trade them away. I do not regret it.”

“Aha, I see. But you are not in love with him?”

“No!”

Mrs. Clearwell turned away with a knowing chuckle. “I will see you at supper, then. That Lord Arthur, my, what a handsome fellow. I can see where the major gets his looks…”

Lily smiled ruefully as her chaperone sailed off to take her daily rest.

For a long moment she remained on the couch, staring at nothing, still dazed by all that had happened. She let out a sigh, took a sip of tea, and leaned her head back on the cushions. So, she thought dully. She still had Edward on her fishhook. Some cynical part of her asked,
Did you think you could get out of it that easily?

God, it was impossible to consider Derek Knight side by side with Edward Lundy and pine for the latter.
What shall I do?
Her emotions were all a-tangle. Heartbreak from the loss of her earrings. Amazement to find how much she really cared about Derek. Awe after having witnessed a glimpse of his warrior ferocity. Uneasiness after all Edward’s paranoid questions about him. And dismay at the thought of having to spend the rest of her life with those clammy lips squashed against hers.

Maybe she really
should
put an end to this match.

Alas, she was not brave enough to jump off that particular cliff unless she was sure there was someone with very strong arms waiting to catch her below.

But that
someone
had other priorities, contrary to what her chaperone might believe. That someone did not feel toward her what she was beginning to feel all too strongly toward him.

With a wince of angry frustration, Lily shut her eyes again, feeling trapped.
Derek! I want to see Derek.

Yes…

As inspiration dawned, new energy suddenly spurted into her veins.

She should go and see how that poor horse was doing!

The sorrel mare was in sorry shape, but he had nursed far worse-off creatures back to health.

In the stable that served the Althorpe, the rescued horse now stood safely tethered in the cross-ties with her injured front hoof soaking in a bucket of warm water with Epsom salts. His shirtsleeves rolled up, Derek sat on a low stool beside the problem leg, keeping the mare calm and making sure she did not try to kick away the bucket.

They were housing her in the large box stall at the far end of the aisle, away from the other horses, until they could be sure she was not sick as well as maltreated. In the short couple of hours that had passed, she was doing remarkably well. Cleaned and dried, groomed and fed, the coachman’s lashes on her back lightly dressed with a warm bran-and-herbal poultice that Derek had made himself to draw off any risk of infection, her overall condition was vastly improved.

He, too, had calmed down from his earlier anger. The stable had always been his favorite place to escape to, and being here with useful work to do had relaxed him considerably after that irksome altercation.

Still, he remained in a troubled, dark, brooding frame of mind.

The charges against him had been dropped, he guessed, due to their inherent absurdity. Still, the coachman’s attempt to have him arrested had left him fuming.

A hundred witnesses in the crowd had seen that bastard’s cruelty to his animals. All
he
had done was give the man back a bit of his own medicine.

It had felt good, actually.

Until the moment he had remembered that Lily was watching.

Now he couldn’t stop wondering how badly he might have had alienated her with his actions…and he was a little uneasy about why he cared quite so much.

Once more, the restlessness had come back to plague him with all those unsettling questions that he tried his best to ignore. Questions about what his chosen career just might be doing to his soul.

The shocked look on Lily’s face when she had seen him whip the coachman had brought them all rushing back. But if she thought that was bad, why, that was nothing compared to the average battle.

Damn it, what was he doing with this girl, anyway? He was only putting his fragile alliance with Lundy at risk.

And yet he could not seem to stay away from her. He felt so strangely drawn to her.

Ah, hell, he was being absurd even thinking about it. Even if he weren’t going back to India, her family needed money and he wasn’t rich. Not like Lundy. His own clan was prosperous, of course, but he’d rather swallow his sword than go begging his father for an allowance like some callow boy.

When a warm puff of air from a soft muzzle reached his cheek, he looked up with a wry smile as the mare nuzzled him. “I know, sweetheart. You’re welcome.”

He stroked the mare’s shoulder and then felt to see if the water in the soaking pail was still warm.

It turned out his blond-maned foundling had a lovely temperament. While applying the medicinal dressing, he had been pleasantly surprised by the horse’s sweet and trusting disposition despite the abuse. In his experience, most animals did not enjoy humans poking around at their wounds, especially if they had been cruelly treated, but the mare had let him put the poultice on her back without too much protest. Her docility led him to suspect she had been someone’s beloved pet before fate had cast her into the role of beast of burden, probably by way of the auction block.

That was when it had dawned on him why she had not fared well on the driver’s team. She was a saddle horse! He could not determine with certainty the exact makeup of her mixed breed, but the lighter, more even development of her musculature hinted at her prior usage. She needed more meat on her bones, true, but she had a nice, clean confirmation.

Certainly, Derek’s own excellent riding horse deemed the mare worthy of his attentions. The black stallion from Tattersall’s had been sending his compliments with amorous whinnies since they had arrived, sticking his head out of his stall and tossing his mane to gain her notice.

The mare seemed to think her admirer a bit too forward.

For his part, Derek had a strong notion of who ought to be her future owner. The horse would make a useful gift for Lily. If she had her own mount, it would be one less way in which she’d have to depend on the goodwill of others—that of her chaperone or her suitor. He knew that it bothered her pride to have to rely on others for everything. He decided that this was a capital plan. He’d fix the mare up and give her to someone he knew would never abuse her.

Satisfied that the hoof had had a good soaking, Derek made the mare lift her leg out of the bucket, moved it aside, and proceeded to rub the leg and hoof dry with soft, clean towels. Bending over, he took another look at the soft underside of the hoof, the injured frog, and shrugged to himself. Time would tell.

Then he let the mare put her foot down and straightened up, giving her a pat on the neck.

“How is your patient, Major?” a soft voice asked from behind him.

Derek turned in surprise. “Lily!”

Hoping the jolt to his heart at the sight of her did not entirely show on his face, he reined in his reaction, wiping his hands on a towel. “What are you doing here?” he asked in a warm and easy tone.

“Visiting the sick,” she said. “It’s what we genteel ladies do.”

With her slender hourglass shape silhouetted against the bright daylight beyond the wide-open barn doors, she sauntered closer, pushing her straw bonnet back and letting it hang behind from the ribbons tied around her neck. Drawing off her tan kid gloves, she reached into the basket hooked over her arm and pulled out a carrot. “I come bearing gifts. May I?”