My Fair Lily (37 page)

“Heaven forbid,” she said with a jovial grimace. “That’s the longest speech I’ve ever heard you give.”

“There’s more. We have scientific societies, geographical societies, a slew of historical societies in Scotland, mainly in
Edinburgh, but you
can start as many as you like in the Highlands. I’ll sponsor every damn one of them.” Smiling, he tipped a finger under her chin and drew her gaze to his. The soft blue of her eyes met the determined green of his. “Lily, lass. My sweet lass. My fair Lily. Will you marry
me?”

“Of course I will. I love you so much, Ewan. I’m so relieved. I thought you’d never ask me straight out. I was afraid you’d return to Scotland and leave me behind.”

“Och, I’d never do that.” He kissed her on the mouth,
determined to take gentle possession of her heart and soul. He didn’t hold back
either, needing Lily to know that he was hers forever, that he
treasured her and couldn’t exist without her.

“Am I dreaming? Or did I just feel the earth move?” Lily
whispered, her eyes closed and lips swollen with passion.

“Bollix, I felt it too.” The windows began to rattle. “Those
missing crates of explosives!”

Lily gasped, and her gaze turned anguished. His arms were still around her, so he felt the violent shudder that ran through her body. “Lass, it’s all right.”

“No, it isn’t. The Royal Society!” She let out a heaving sob. “He’s destroyed it.”

***

Ewan was in his unrepentant, dominant Scottish male baboon
temper once again, holding Lily back when she sought to leave Lady Finchley’s townhouse. “You don’t understand! The Society’s
library—”

“Lass, ye’re to stay close to your-r-r par-r-rents.” Though he was spouting orders in full Highlander brogue and rolling his r’s, Lily knew by his expression that he was exasperated and concerned. He
wasn’t angry with her. After all, he couldn’t be angry with her for wanting to save the precious books and artifacts on display within
the Royal Society’s imposing halls.

Or had Ashton’s father blown up only the building’s new wing, the one to be named after Ewan’s grandfather? His grandfather’s birthday celebration had been scheduled to take place there next
week. “Don’t leave yer-r-r father’s side. I’ll see what’s happened.”

She shot him an indignant scowl. “You just promised never to leave my side.”

“I’m only trying to protect you.” He kissed her on the lips with hot determination, one of those divine Ewan kisses filled with
hunger and
longing that spoke to her heart and turned her legs to jelly. No
doubt, he’d kissed her to stop her protests.

Well, it wasn’t going to work. “I’m going with you.”

He clenched his teeth. “No, the place may be on fire. Ashton’s father—”

“All the more reason why I should be with you. More important,
I know which books and artifacts are valuable. We may yet be able to save some of them. There’s a private room filled with ancient
maps and manuscripts.”

“Where?”

“Hidden behind one of the bookshelves. You’ll never find it on your own. I’ll have to show you.” She tried to shove out of his arms. He wouldn’t let her go.

“Och, lass. Don’t look at me that way.”

She didn’t mean to be angry with him, but so much time had already been lost standing here arguing. “How am I looking at you?”

“There’s so much pain in your eyes, as though a precious part of
you were trapped inside that building, buried under all that marble. It’s just a building. The artifacts are just objects, no matter how important you think they are. They’re not living, breathing things.
But you are. I almost lost you once. I won’t lose you again.”

“So you’ll break your promise to me, just like that?”

He clenched his teeth again. “I said it and I meant it. I want you by my side. In my bed. In my arms. Not ripping my heart to tatters worrying about you while battling a raging fire.”

“You’re wonderful, Ewan. I sincerely mean it. But you know you’ve lost this argument. I’m safer with you than without you. And your grandfather will need you to go with him to the Royal Society. He’s probably looking for you as we speak.”

He sighed and dropped his hands to his sides. “So help me, if you take a step from my side, I’ll—”

“As you’ve promised never to leave my side, I promise never to leave yours.” She smiled at him. “Still eager to marry a
Sassenach
bluestocking?”

He ran a finger lovingly across her cheek and groaned. “Never more eager for anything in my life.”

They hurried out of the library in search of Ewan’s grandfather
and found him in the entry hall, donning his cloak. Relief washed over him as he spotted them. “There you are! I thought you might have gone off without me. I don’t know what the hell just happened,
but the
rafters shook and now there’s a red glow in the distance. It’s the
Royal Society, isn’t it?”

Ewan put a hand on his shoulder. “Possibly. We don’t know for sure.”

“But I do. This is my fault. I’ve brought this destruction down on all of us.” His gaze softened as he looked at Lily. “Lass, I owe you an apology. You’ll have it properly from me, in writing, so that all will know that I was in the wrong.”

She stopped him, for there was such desolation in his eyes she
felt as though he were punishing himself worse than she ever could. “It isn’t necessary. We have a building to salvage. And a birthday party to plan for you. We mustn’t let a case of explosives get in our
way.”

Actually, it was three cases of explosives.

She turned to Ewan and saw that his brow was furrowed. He was thinking the same thought... had Lord Mortimer used all three cases? Or were more buildings about to crumble? Two possible targets came to mind, Lotheil Court and the Farthingale residence.

They had to stop Lord Mortimer.

The duke’s carriage rattled through the London streets with all the speed his horses, bred for power and endurance, could muster. The carriage drew to a halt about a block away from their destination. “Ain’t safe to proceed further, Your Grace,” the driver
said. “Looks like ’alf the building toppled onto the street and it’s blockin’ our passage.”

Lily, Ewan, and his grandfather climbed down from the carriage and hurried the rest of the way on foot, pushing through the crowd
already gathered. Ewan kept hold of Lily’s hand, his not so subtle way of assuring she’d remain by his side. Finally, they broke through the barrier of spectators and approached the building. Ewan
held her back a moment while he surveyed the damage. Lily followed his gaze as it wandered from the street and upward to the imposing structure that rivaled the British Museum for grandeur.

Her heart shot into her throat. She’d never seen so much destruction in her entire life. She’d read about battles between ancient civilizations. She’d even read accounts of recent wars.
Nothing had prepared her for
the ruin that stood before her very eyes. The roof of the Royal Society’s new wing had fallen onto the street. The Roman statuary
meant to decorate its cornices were shattered chunks of rock now partially blocking the street. The massive stone wall facing the street had completely crumbled and a red glow was visible from inside.

“Stand back, lass. It isn’t safe,” Ewan said as a gust of wind carried the smoky stench of fire toward them. A mix of sadness and
the physical effect of stinging heat from the flames brought tears to her eyes. The air was too hot to breathe.

Ewan drew her back, for she was too distraught to consider obeying him. The new wing had been enormous, and now it was
reduced to rubble. Fortunately, it had been left empty of exhibits, for none were to be brought in until after the duke’s party.

She turned to Ewan. “Do you think he used all of it up?”

His expression was grim. “No, lass. Two cases at most. The fire will destroy the rest of the building.”

“But it hasn’t spread to the original structure yet. That’s where
all the important artifacts and documents are stored. We can still save them.” A brigade of men carrying buckets were forming a line
from the building down to the Thames. She didn’t think their small buckets would defeat the fire, but they could delay its spread long enough to save the precious contents.

Ewan clamped his hand on her arm. “Lily, you’re not going into that building.”

At that moment, Evangeline, Meggie, and Desmond reached her side. “Of course not,” Desmond said, glancing from Ewan to his grandfather.
“Not alone. We’re going in with you. Grandfather, do you have the key?”

Evangeline and Meggie grabbed a wheelbarrow that was sitting
near a small side entrance beside an array of workmen’s tools.
“Well? Are we Camerons going to just stand here and allow this building to burn?” Meggie demanded.

Ewan let out a strangled oath as Lily attempted to take a step toward that side entrance. “You’re coming with me. Remember your
promise to stay close.”

She grinned at him and turned to his grandfather. “Your Grace, where’s that key?”

He withdrew it from the inner pocket of his jacket. Ewan gaped at him. His grandfather sniffed. “Always carry it with me. It’s an honor granted to the highest ranking member on the board. I take my responsibilities
seriously.” He turned to Lily. “Unfortunately, I don’t always execute them properly. In truth, we old fossils seem to have lost our way these past few years. But things will change going forward. I do care
deeply about the Royal Society and the great work it undertakes for the betterment of society.”

Lily shot him an indulgent smile. “I know, Your Grace. I never doubted your love for this place.”

“As I never should have doubted yours.”

Ewan took the key out of his grandfather’s hands. “Are we done with these mawkish displays of affection?”

“Quite,” Lily said with a soft laugh. “Let’s save some books.”

***

Within the hour, not only the ancient texts but masks, weaponry, utensils, maps, journals, and all manner of items displayed within
the halls had been taken to safety. A regiment of soldiers housed in the Somerset Court barracks around the corner from the Royal Society had helped with the task. Half of those soldiers had worked
with Ewan and
Desmond to extinguish the fire, while the other half had assisted Lily, Evangeline, Meggie, and the duke in protecting and
cataloguing the precious items that were then taken to their barracks for safekeeping.

As the night wore on, Lily realized that the Camerons, working together as a family, had saved almost everything precious. She felt a well of pride and satisfaction. As though reading her mind, Ewan
came up beside her and drew her into his arms. She was covered in soot and smelled hideous, but he didn’t seem to care. He hadn’t come out of the past few hours unmarked either. He was sweating,
and his crisp, white lawn shirt was badly stained, but Ewan—being Ewan—looked incredibly handsome, better than any man she’d ever set eyes upon. Ever. “Well done, lass.”

He’d rolled up his sleeves, and she felt the solid muscles of his forearms as he wrapped them about her. She snuggled against his chest. “An excellent night’s work. We work well together, don’t you
think?”

“That we do.”

She smiled and gazed up at him. “You were spectacular in the way you organized all the men, those fighting the fire and the others who were helping us. It would have been chaos otherwise.”

He laughed and shook his head. “You have it backwards, lass. The Continental forces would have defeated Napoleon years earlier
if they’d had
you
for a general. The Camerons can’t take credit for
any of this. You’re the one who saved the Royal Society. You alone.”

She took comfort in the solid warmth of his chest. She had worked hard. Very hard. But she hadn’t managed the salvage operation on her own. Ewan and Desmond had meted out the tasks,
had coordinated
the fire brigade, and had made sure none of the men who’d gone into the dark, smoke-filled halls of the older building stole any valuables. The duke had been watching them as well, strutting back
and forth, his aristocratic gaze sharp and assessing.

No one would dare cross the old duke.

Evangeline and Meggie had been just as busy assisting with the enormous task of cataloguing every saved artifact. They’d done a brilliant job of it.

By the time dawn broke over London to signal the start of a new
day, most of the board of directors of the Royal Society had arrived and were now gathered in the regimental barracks. Lord Guilfoil was the last to arrive. Lily stiffened as he scowled at her. “What’s she doing here?”

The duke stepped forward. “Saving our sorry souls. If it hadn’t been for the girl, we’d have lost everything. Where were you? It hasn’t escaped my notice that you took your sweet time in getting here.”

Lord Guilfoil began to sputter a lame excuse, but the duke cut
him off. “Save it, Guilfoil. You weren’t here when it mattered, so the board proceeded without you. We’re going to rebuild and improve the Royal Society. All applicants for membership will be welcomed
and
seriously considered on their merits. I’ll be sponsoring Lily
Farthingale’s application.” He turned to Lily. “If you’ll allow me, lass. I’ve been an old fool and wish to make it up to you.”