Persuasion (17 page)

to deflower the mind.

That particular governess had never liked Lily and had told her mother that

she would come to a bad end, due to her independent ways and her inability

to keep quiet on subjects she felt most strongly about.

That that lady was correct hurt her deeply. Her mind had already been

partially deflowered, but tonight, her body would be receiving the same

treatment but on a more permanent scale.

She winced at the thought.

Her fingers began to dig into the horse hair cushions and they merely

gripped all the harder as the vehicle came to a halt. The cessation of the

clippety-clop of the horses' hooves against the cobbled floor had her wincing

again. The time had come . . . .

Staring blindly at the candle, its flame almost burned itself on to her eyes.

Lily knew not how long she sat there. All she knew was that she did not want

to leave the carriage. That she did not want to go through with what she

knew she must.

The prospect of being a shamed woman should have meant naught in

comparison to her mother's safety, but, after all her upbringing, how could it

not?

Men did not want impure wives. They wanted clean virgins that squeaked

with their purity. They wanted the maidenhead as proof that no other had

touched them and that they were their husband's to own and possess.

Without it, she would be . . . . She would be as bad as a harlot.

But what could Lily do?

She swallowed and almost choked at the tightness of her throat. Her hand

blindly sought out the carriage door and she opened it. The blast of air

almost pushed her backwards, but she climbed to her feet and exited the

vehicle. Without the aid of a footman, she almost stumbled but managed to

right herself in the nick of time.

Steadying herself against the door, she looked onwards and saw a faintly

menacing, great black shadow. It was a house, a rather large one and

detached at that. With wry introspection, she could see that the Earl had a

fortune and that, regardless of his sour disposition, was what had had the

tabbies and the matrons in a flush as they'd gossiped about him around the

town.

Behind the house's shadow was a large white cloud, which had been muted

a dark gray from the night sky. A few stars twinkled above her and in one

deep inhalation, she prayed for forgiveness. Prayed for absolution for the sin

she was about to commit.

When amen had departed her lips, she walked slowly up the short, gated

pathway that led to the house and then ascended the front steps that led to

the front door, as she did so, Lily fiddled with the heavy key that rested like

a leaden weight in her palm. Facing the door, she inserted the key but did

not turn it.

Quietly, she unfastened her brooch again and let it hang limply to the side of

her. Reaching for the other flap, she raised it to her face and let it cover her

visage from the nose downwards. Using her arm to clamp the cloak to her

torso, she turned the key and the sound of the lock clicking resonated

through her like shotgun being emptied. She jumped, startled and then

reached for the key and tucked it into her cloak pocket once again.

As her hand rested on the doorknob, she wondered and not for the first time

how her blackmailer was so aware of what happened in this house and how

he had managed to gain access to it. Did her blackmailer know the Earl?

They had to know one another, for how else had he been able to coordinate

his plan with the staff. For a moment, she wondered if the Earl knew of the

blackmailer's sordid plan, if he knew what she was being forced to do, but

Lily swiftly discarded the thought. The Earl, she realized, hadn't even wanted

to dance with her. Never mind anything else!

Silly it might have been, but Lily was most relieved that the Earl, who had

quite unknowingly come to possess a vital part of her, was not so villainous

as the blackmailer who pushed her into this terrible situation.

But now was not the time to think. If she thought, then she would surely

end up as a bedlamite and instead she turned the doorknob and stepped

over the threshold of the door and into the house. Instantly, and as her

blackmailer had decreed, a servant stepped out of the gloomy hallway and

bowed before her.

Without saying a word, he turned on his heel and took a step forward. He

paused, to ensure she was following and when she did, he walked her down

the length of what seemed like a hellishly long corridor. As she stepped

behind him, her earlier demand that she not think, raised its merry head. All

of a sudden, fear rushed through her. Fear of what she would do if her

mother were to discover this, or if her aunt were to learn of this. Fear of

having to disrobe herself before him, fear of having to taking part in an act

that would destroy her good name. Fear literally knotted her throat until it

became almost impossible to breath, until merely inhaling and exhaling

became a difficult chore and that she was seconds away from choking, Lily

did not doubt.

She wished then and there that Devlin had not hedged about this part of life.

While he had readily informed her of the vices within the ton, he had never

discussed what occurred between a man and a woman. If he had, then had

her mother and father learned of this, then they would have throttled him!

But in this respect, she was completely innocent to this part of life.

For goodness' sake, she had not even thought about the marriage bed at all!

And that was good and proper. The marriage bed was sanctified by the Lord

and the law! So, contemplating what she was about to do was very difficult

indeed. Was it any wonder that she felt as frightened as lamb that was being

led to the slaughter? Was it?

The similarities between that simile and her own situation had her wincing.

For what was she, if not a lamb? Biting her lip, she ducked her head but

continued to follow the butler and simply swallowed as panic once more

assailed her.

The only comfort was not much of a comfort at all and its source was the

blackmailer! Everything he had told her was true and so, she could not

disbelieve the fact that he would not hurt her mother if needs must. That

thought strengthened her against what was about to happen and even

though it went against every principle, she would do this to ensure her

mother's safety.

She heard the servant stop and slowly, he tapped at the door. Without

waiting for a reply, he opened the door and then left her alone as he swept

off to wherever or from whatever part of the house he had originated.

Lily moved to stand in the doorway and she blinked against the flurry of

lights that beset her eyes. In comparison to the darkened corridors, the

study was warm and well-lit. A fire burned merrily in the hearth and candles

were dotted about the place. Before the fire were a set of armchairs and

from that area, someone cleared their throat, “Is that you, Hague?” the

voice asked, shaking distinctly.

She flinched and said nothing, but merely walked into the study and closed

the door behind her. The creak of leather was clearly audible but he didn't

stand up. Thereafter, the sound of him slamming backwards into his seat

had her frowning a little, but as she traversed the short length from the door

to the seating area, she noticed the decanter of brandy that rested on the

table in between the armchairs and the glass that was perched awkwardly in

his hand looked set to swiftly tumble on to the floor.

Rounding the armchairs, Lily dropped the cloak from around her face and

made to stand directly before him. For what seemed like forever, they stared

at each other. At first, with confusion and incomprehension, which she

believed was fueled by alcohol. She damned herself for it, but Lily couldn't

help but look upon him with tenderness. Her fear had disappeared for it was

this man, it was Dorian, not the Earl who had made her feel things that she

had never felt before. Things that she had never before imagined and that

had reawakened her to this life after the period of depression she and her

family had settled into after her father's death.

Her only regret was that this was happening in these particular

circumstances. As she stood there in the heated silence, her body reacted to

his presence and she wanted him, more than she'd ever wanted anything in

her life.

How she wished that this want had been sanctioned by the Lord and then

there would be nothing wrong with it. She could stand here and it would

merely be classed as doing her duty with her husband! And certainly nothing

to be ashamed of!

The meeting of their eyes seemed to have lasted forever and with a faint

smile, she let the cloak drop from her shoulder and fall to the floor, where it

draped about her feet. Standing before the fire as she was, Lily knew that

her body would be back-lit and that he would be seeing her in all her glory.

At that moment, she ceased to feel shame and simply vowed to enjoy what

little she could have of him.

He blinked. Once, twice and then a third time. Almost as though he could

not comprehend what he was seeing, but he lifted his hand and his fingers

curled as he reached for her. Without hesitation, she clasped his within her

own, and, with that, he tugged her on to his lap.

For what seemed like endless moments, Dorian stared at her almost as

though he were in a dream, and perhaps he felt as though he actually was

and that she was a figment of that illusion, but she wasn't. She was flesh

and blood and damn her to the fiery pit of hell and damnation, but she

wanted this man, who stared at her as though she were a ghostly apparition.

Lily wanted him in ways that she had not even known possible and only now

as she sat there in relative silence, with the flickering flames of the fire in

the background and the slight tick tock of the clock, with her body bared

brazenly to his gaze could she understand it.

Licking her lips, she curled into him as though seeking protection and almost

as though something inside him responded to that, he accepted her change

of position and pressed her close to him. Once her head was nuzzled on his

shoulder, he turned his head awkwardly to watch her and then, only then,

did he raise his hand and clasp her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

Even in the darkened room, she could see his eyes slowly start to fill with . .

. hunger, desire . . . emotions that had never before touched her, yet were

easily recognizable to her. She felt quite sure that he would be able to see

those same feelings in her own eyes.

A part of her felt ashamed, but another could not hide from the need that

had slowly started to course around her. A virgin, she might have been, but

at her core and beneath all of society's dictates, she was a woman. And as

had the women who had lived in caves and the women who now walked the

streets togged from top to toe in expensive fabrics and with a duenna at

their side, she knew what she felt, what she was experiencing and she

wanted. Oh, how she wanted. It overpowered the shame and made her feel

so gloriously alive that when he finally slid his hand down the curve of her

throat and cupped her there, she shivered.

The slight press of the finger tips there against the delicate bones of her

neck, had her arching a little higher and when he finally released her and

gathered her hair about his hand, she gulped faintly and almost jumped out

of her skin, when he glared down at her. "What are you doing? Are you here

to torment me?”

“I'm here for you,” she whispered after a moment's pause. “Not to torment,

to give pleasure, to explore what exists between us.”

Her words had grown quieter the longer she had spoken as her voice had

grown huskier and huskier. Lily was surprised that she'd had the courage to

even murmur half of what she had! Never mind the entire statement!

He studied her for what felt like a lifetime and his searing gaze sent an

equally fierce blush across her cheeks.

Eventually, Dorian tapped her on the chin and then he turned and

unerringly, he leaned down until their mouths hovered above the other. She

could feel her lips quiver as his breath washed against them and the tender

and sensitive skin reacted so delicately that she closed her eyes and her

neck arched backwards in delicate submission. When he joined their mouths,

she sighed breathlessly against him and let him lead her into the dance of

passion, for she knew not how to entice. How she wished that she did!

When his tongue swept along the length of her lower lip, she moaned a little

and the movement must have been what he'd been seeking, for the tensile

muscle slipped inside her mouth. She almost died of shock at that moment

and it took every ounce of her composure to remain still in his arms.

What was he doing?

Her mind sought frantically for an answer and when his tongue finally

touched hers, she felt that franticness yet again but this time, there was an

understanding. The sensations that were wrought from that one slight move