Persuasion (19 page)

embers glowed a merry red, but they did not emit much heat.

Biting her lip, she stood on shaky legs and almost dropped to the floor as

pain ripped through her from inside out. Her mouth turned into a moue of

discomfort as she hobbled to her feet and sought out her chemise and cloak.

Her legs ached from the cramped position, but the soreness in between her

thighs was the direct source of her discomfort. She winced as she bent down

and touched that area, patting it tenderly as though that would sooth it, but

it did naught.

Flinching as she moved, Lily reached for her chemise and tugged it on over

her head. For a moment, she seated herself on the chair he had earlier used

and spread her legs. In the light of the candles, she noticed that there was

blood on her thighs, and, at the unwelcome reminder, all that she had

earlier blocked out upon entering this room returned and she bowed her

head against it.

How she wished that she had the freedom to touch him once more. To let

her hands curl in his hair and to stroke the sinews of his back . . . but this

was more than likely the last time she would be able to touch or even see

him so intimately. Feeling unbearably sad at the thought, she attempted to

secrete everything that had happened that night, so she could tuck it away

in a box in her memory. From the pleasure to the pain, it could not be

forgotten.

She recalled his savagery, his roughness as he touched her, then she

recalled the delicacy of his fingers against her skin and the gentleness as he

guided her into moving atop him . . . . The contrast made her close her

eyes. It had been almost as though he cared for her, loved her, as though

she were the only woman on this Earth.

Her eyes sought him out once more and they softened as they took in his

sleeping form. Like a child, he was curled into the position a babe took, his

body loose and lax as he slept the sleep of the innocent.

If only she were so innocent.

Wincing at the thought, she realized that now, her good name and honor

was truly gone. With him here, it did not feel as gargantuan as it was, but

she knew it would hit her as soon as she left this house. With Dorian, it

mattered not for this evening had merely doubled her opinion that this was

the man to whom she was supposed to belong, yet the Fates had seen

otherwise and ruined it for her.

For with her loose behavior, regardless of her virgin state, he would never

want her as his wife. And almost as though she were not suffering enough,

she recalled the last word on his mouth before he fell into slumber . . .

Camille. And Lily recalled who Camille was . . . his dead wife.

Oh, the agony. Had he thought Lily to be his dead wife?

Shame coiled through her, followed closely by pain and anguish. She

realized, as her heart broke, that the deep emotions she had placed into this

act were felt solely by her about him. He was obviously still in love with his

dead wife.

Her eyes filled with hurt, she looked at him with unseen reproach.

Had he thought her a dream? A vision of his Camille?

Shaking like an old woman, she stood and bent down for her cloak.

Wrapping herself in the expanse of material, she stalked from the fireplace

and the set of armchairs and towards the door and then froze.

Her mouth opened and closed for a moment as she looked at the portrait

that could almost have been herself.

The dress was now out of fashion, the hair was a different color, but the face

. . . . It was almost like looking at herself.

She felt sick.

No wonder he had mistaken her for Camille, not when the resemblance was

so unbelievably uncanny.

How long she stood there, examining the painting, she did not know and

only when she heard Dorian toss on the floor a little, was Lily once more

brought to re-awareness. She had to escape this nightmare. Escape before

he awoke. The thought of him awakening before she departed filled her with

unbridled horror.

Clutching her cloak about her, she swept out of the door and quietly stepped

into the hallway. Opening the front door with the key she had used earlier,

she relocked it and then stepped down the stairs and returned to the

pathway. She turned to look at the house and as she did, Lily was filled with

a poignancy that had her almost weeping. How she wished that she would

never have to see him again . . . but her heart, her foolish, foolish heart, felt

almost like weeping at the loss.

Lily shook her head to clear it and then looked about her. Not much time

had passed, as she had earlier feared upon reawakening. Yes, the sky had

begun to lighten but not terribly so. It was still dark.

Only a few hours, if that, had passed, yet it felt almost as though it were a

lifetime.

She shook her head again and spying the carriage, Lily rushed to it and into

it. Once inside, she sucked in a breath of relief to be out of that house, but it

was short lived.

“You have done as asked?”

The words came out of the dark and had her almost squealing with fright.

Not having known that she was sharing the carriage with anyone, she felt

almost like expiring from the shock.

Realizing it was her blackmailer, she attempted to squint into the darkness

but the candle had now been extinguished and she could see nothing. How

she wished she could see his face and know who was behind this awful deed!

“Did you?” he repeated impatiently, his voice angry now, even though only a

few seconds had passed.

“Yes,” she whispered shakily, swallowing convulsively as she waited for his

response.

Hearing the sounds of movements, she launched against the cushions and

tried to take herself into the corner of the carriage, but to no avail. He

reached for her, she felt his fingers dig into her skin, then grasped her by

the knee and spread her legs.

She cried out, wondering what he was doing and her arms began to hit at

him. Was he about to attack her?

“Hush!” he spat and his fingers trailed clinically along the length of her thigh,

obviously in search of more physical evidence than her word. "Good,” he

murmured, and he realized that he must have felt the blood that she had

seen there earlier.

“You beast! You devil,” she spat. “I have indeed ruined myself for you!

Although to what ill, I'm not sure!”

“It is not for you to question, merely to do!”

She hissed under her breath. “It may do you no good at all,” she whispered,

her voice tinged with both pain and glee. “I am quite certain he thought it

was his wife and not I at all.”

“That is all to the good. Be sure to remember that when I require your . . .

services . . . I shall send you a missive.”

She tensed. He wanted her to go through with that again?

Her mouth opened to protest, but she shut it soon after. What was the

point? He would merely threaten her mama, and, were he to do so tonight,

after this most emotional of nights, she thought she would burst into tears!

Could she go through with that again?

Would it not rip her heart in two?

And the more often she did it, would she not risk being caught?

How she longed to argue with the blackmailer, to tell him to go to the dogs

and be damned, but he would more than likely hurt her by slapping her and

that would do no one any good.

She ducked her head and sat in silence, trying fiercely to accept what was

and ready herself for another time and another place, when she would have

to meet Dorian and seduce him yet again.

The carriage came to a halt and from the blackmailer's rustling, she knew he

was about to take his leave. The door opened and he jumped out. "Be ready

and waiting. Do not disobey me.”

She felt terror course through her at the prospect of their next meeting.

Closing her eyes, she sank back into the carriage seat. The horses' started

up once again and she shook her head against what that man had forced her

into doing.

Shame rained down upon her like an April shower, and, with it, bitterness

and sadness were intermingled. Never had she felt so low, so down and

when the horses once more came to a halt and she realized that she was to

depart, Lily knew that only a dose of laudanum would help her to sleep this

night.

She had forever lost the right to a night of innocent slumber and felt that

loss as keenly as she felt the loss of her father.

With a slight grin on her face, Lily walked through her aunt and uncle's front

door before turning to Janie excitedly. "I can't believe how good a find that

was, Janie. Marvelous. I've been seeking something of that nature for the

duration of the Season! It will go perfectly with the shot-silver satin I’ve

been planning on wearing to attend the Duchess of Hamptons' ball. Such

good fortune.”

Her eyes look heavenward at Janie's sour look and as they did, she noticed

the bluer than blue sky and a happy smile lit her face. Nature was so

beautiful. It was difficult to remember how wonderful it could be in London.

At the estate, it was as easy as sin.

Wherever one looked, one could see the miracle that was nature. From the

snowy peaked mountains, and the babbling brooks that were clearer than

the prettiest diamond, to the sounds of animals on the home farms and the

scents of clean and pure air . . . Heavenly.

Not for the first time since her arrival in the capital, she wondered how on

earth year-round residents of the city could stand the filthy air. A simple

stroll around the shopping arcades had one feeling as though one were in

dire need of a bath, so bad was it! She wondered if the majority of people

did not notice it and that perhaps, she was just difficult . . . . That sounded

quite correct and she had to hide a smile at the thought.

Moving her gaze away from the beautiful, clear as a mountain spring sky,

she focused on Janie's scowling face.

“Aye, good fortune is the right word, miss. Sixty pounds! Sixty pounds on a

necklace.” The maid shook her head and Lily hid a smile as Aunt Millie's

elderly and set-in-his-ways butler glared at the older woman, obviously

disapproving of her tone.

It wasn't done to chide the mistress, after all, at least not in this household.

In her own home, Janie ruled the roost for the most part and had done since

her days as the nursery maid. Lily was therefore used to being chided and

chivied along. Indeed, she was quite sure she would miss her maid's

reprimands were she to cease being such a bossy boots!

Lily caught Rodgers' eye and shook her head, the motion so tiny that Janie

didn't see it. A man of Rodgers' possession was trained to catch such a slight

move and so, the message was received in silence. He flushed with

discomfort but lowered his head in understanding.

Janie's brash outspokenness was one of the major reasons why Lily loved

her. Yes, loved her.

“It isn't done,” the maid said, completely unaware of the disapproval in the

air. “Your mother or brother should be buying your jewelry, Miss Lily. You

can't just walk into Hemingtons and spend sixty pounds on a necklace! And

all those gentleman there, smirking at us as they made their own purchases.

Why, I've never been so embarrassed in all my life! Why you had to choose

that jeweler is beyond me! I swear you do it to have me flush with

discomfort, Miss Lily! You always were a naughty girl! I should have spanked

you more. I knew it at the time that I was making a rod for my own back,

but you'd start to whimper and cry and I'd roll over like a naughty puppy!

And now, the Good Lord is avenging my laxness. I knew the day would come

. . . I'd just hoped that it wouldn't be so soon!”

Lily chuckled and hid another smile as Rodgers jerked with yet more

disapproval. She stepped into the front hall and allowed Janie to remove her

pelisse before pulling the finger of each glove away from her hand. "I could

not help that that particular set of jewelry was in that jeweler's now could I,

Janie? I also could not help that it caught my eye! I've been seeking

something of that nature for far too long to simply walk away from it

because it was an establishment for gentlemen.

“And what would you have me do? As close as we are, Devlin is hardly likely

to travel down from the estate simply to buy me some jewelry if I were to

write to him. And in any case, he would only do so, were his character to

have changed overnight! Which I highly doubt! I had to buy it then and

there, Janie. I would have cried for days if it had been sold from under my

very nose!

“And anyway, Devlin is far more interested in purchasing jewels for his

mistresses than his sister, Janie!” At the explosion of censure that swiftly

surrounded her, she merely cocked a brow and fought hard to still her lips

from twitching. “I'm hardly an infant, Janie! Rodgers! I do know about these

things! I also know that that is why Hemingtons is a renowned jeweler for

gentleman.” She grinned wickedly. “Imagine a Cyprian wearing something

from that jeweler! Why, how ridiculous! Where on earth would they wear