Royal's Bride (26 page)

“I have to go out for a while after supper,” she told Tommy. “But I won’t be gone long.”

“Where ye goin’?” he asked.

“I’m meeting a man to talk about the stars.”

“I used to look at ’em with me mum. She used to make up stories about them.”

Lily smiled. “If you watched the stars, you must have lived in the country.”

He nodded. “Till Mum took sick. After she died, I come to London.” He was looking past her, she realized, and turned to see what had captured his gaze. It was a small, leather-bound book of poetry, sitting where she had left it on the table.

“I never thought to ask…can you read?”

“Me mum taught me. She didn’t have no formal schoolin’, but she were real smart. She were a chambermaid in a big country house and the housekeeper taught her.”

She walked over to the book of poems, brought it over and handed it to Tommy. “You might enjoy reading this while I’m out.”

Tommy grinned. He had a nice wide smile and eating a proper amount of food was beginning to fill out his thin face. He took the book from her hand as if it were made of precious stones. “Thank ye, miss. I’ll take real good care o’ it.”

Lily had fixed the boy a pallet in the backroom to sleep on. As soon as Tommy had eaten, he sat down on the pallet, Mugs curled up beside him, and began to read the book by the light of an oil lamp.

Dusk became nightfall. It was nine o’clock by the time Lily was dressed in her bright silk Gypsy garments and ready to leave the shop. Tommy and Mugs were asleep on the pallet as she whirled her cloak round her
shoulders and tied the string beneath her chin. Drawing the hood up to cover her straight black hair, she headed for the cab stand.

It wasn’t long before a plodding horse pulling a hansom appeared at the corner. As the vehicle rolled toward the small house in Piccadilly that belonged to Madam Tsaya, Lily thought of Preston Loomis and ignored the thread of worry that slipped down her spine.

Christopher Barclay sat alone at a corner table at White’s, his gentlemen’s club, an untouched glass of brandy in front of him. If his stomach hadn’t been tied in knots, he might have gotten drunk. As it was, just thinking about it made him queasy.

For the past two days, he hadn’t been able to eat, hadn’t been able to sleep. All he’d done was think of the reckless little witch who had managed to enchant him.

God’s blood, what had possessed him to get involved with the girl in the first place? He had known it would only lead to trouble. But a stiff cock had little conscience and he had wanted her as he couldn’t remember wanting a woman.

He glanced up as a familiar masculine face came into focus: straight nose, black hair, brilliant blue eyes.

“Mind if I join you?” Rule Dewar stood next to him at the table, a glass of brandy in his hand. A Dewar was the last person Christopher wanted to see, but Rule and Christopher’s younger brother, Lucas, were of an age and they were close friends.

“I thought you were in school.”

“I finished the last of my classes. I’m out of there for good and damned glad of it.” He pulled out a chair but
didn’t take a seat, just stood there waiting for an invitation Christopher wished he didn’t have to give.

“I don’t mind, but I warn you, I’m not in a very good mood.”

Rule sprawled in the chair, drink in hand, his intense blue eyes searching Christopher’s face. “Unless you lost a bundle at the gaming tables, I’d say the cause is a woman.”

Christopher just grunted.

“Is she married?”

“Might as well be.”

“Don’t tell me you’re in love.”

The word made his stomach tighten. “Lust, maybe. A case of overinfatuation. Whatever it is, it’s worse than an ague and I’ll be glad when it’s over.”

“That bad, is it?”

Christopher took a drink of his heretofore-untouched drink. Rule Dewar was the last person he should be talking to. “Worse.”

“If she isn’t actually married, why don’t you do something about it?”

“Nothing I can do. The lady is out of my league. I’ve no fortune to speak of. No title. If I married her, I’d never be her equal. She’s worth a bloody fortune and she believes it gives her license to own the world. She’d try to own me and I’m not willing to let that happen. I’d end up no more than a bad decision she would always regret.”

Rule took a sip of his drink. “The last thing a man needs is a woman who holds the purse strings.”

“Doesn’t seem to bother your brother.” The minute the words were out, he wished he could call them back.

Rule seemed unfazed. “I guess you’ve heard the
rumors. Everyone in London seems to know Royal is to marry the Caulfield girl, though it won’t be official until the announcement is made this Saturday night. That is one of the reasons I came to London.”

Christopher said nothing, but his stomach churned.

“As for my brother, he really has no choice. He’s the Duke of Bransford, after all. Got to have an heir and all that. Besides, he made a vow to our father. He intends to use his wife’s money to rebuild the family fortune.”

Christopher sipped his drink. “She’ll make him dance for every penny. She’s that kind of woman.”

“Then she doesn’t know the man she is going to marry. Royal will control the money as soon as the vows are spoken. As his wife, she’ll have little say about what he does with it.”

Christopher clamped down on a bitter laugh.
You don’t know her like I do
, he thought. Jocelyn was spoiled and selfish and she would make the duke’s life miserable. A man would be a fool to think he could tame a creature like that.

But, by damn, he wanted to be the man to try.

His fingers tightened around the glass. It wasn’t going to happen. Jocelyn didn’t love him. He wasn’t sure she was capable of that kind of emotion, and it would take that and more for a marriage with such a difficult woman to work.

He downed the last of the liquid in his glass, set it on the table and rose from the chair.

“Nice talking to you, Rule. Give your brother my regards.”
And my eternal sympathy for the life of hell he is about to embark upon with Jo.

I
t was almost ten o’clock. When Lily arrived at the house, Dottie was busy in the kitchen. She had delivered Tsaya’s reply to Preston Loomis and left the note for Jack with Molly at the flat the two of them now shared, a circumstance Lily wholeheartedly approved.

She glanced at the clock. Loomis would be arriving any minute. She walked over and pulled out the rolled-up astronomy chart showing the position of the stars. She knew why Loomis wanted to come after dark. He wanted to watch her, see how she worked.

She almost smiled. As a little girl, she had been fascinated by the stars. Her father had taught her the names of each constellation and how to locate them—assuming it was clear enough to see them, which it usually was at their cottage in the country.

Here in London, the sooty air, low-hanging clouds and fog kept the sky mostly obscured. Not tonight. The wind had come up this afternoon, blowing away the soot and cleansing the air. The sky was black as
pitch, the stars sparkling like diamonds, which, she was sure, was the reason Loomis had chosen tonight for his visit.

She made a last quick check of her appearance, tugging the black wig into position and straightening her red silk blouse, then headed for the kitchen to make certain Dottie was ready to receive their visitor.

Pushing through the swinging door, she froze at the sight of Royal Dewar standing exactly where he had been the last time Loomis paid a call, dressed in the same simple, masculine garments as before.

“You…you shouldn’t be here. How…how did you know Loomis was coming?”

“Molly sent me a note. She didn’t like the idea of your being here with him alone.”

“I’m not alone. Dottie is here.”

He scoffed as if to say,
Two women are not much better at defending themselves than one.
“I’ll wait back here out of sight, as I did before.”

“But—”

A knock on the door ended the argument. Exasperated and resigned, Lily took a breath, turned and walked back into the parlor while Dottie went to answer the door. The housekeeper showed Loomis into the sitting room and Lily rose to greet him.

“Mr. Loomis…Good evening.”

“It is good to see you, Tsaya.”

“You, as well. Would you care for tea? Or perhaps something stronger?”

“Nothing tonight.” Instead, Loomis’s gaze lit on the charts spread open on the table. He walked in that direction. “You were preparing to use these tonight?”

“The sky is clear, as it rarely is in the city. I hoped to renew myself, perhaps be granted the gift of a vision.”

He smoothed his silver mustache. “You were right about Savage. The investment I made with him paid off quite nicely.”

She made a slight bow of her head.

“Are you ever wrong?”

“I do not speak if I am in doubt.”

He flicked a glance toward the darkness outside the window. “Would you mind if I watched you work?”

She shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “If that is your wish.” Making her way out of the parlor, she paused to retrieve her cloak, then led him into the entry and down the hall to the back of the house. On the porch, she wrapped her hands round the railing and looked up into the darkness.

“How does it work?” he asked as he walked up beside her.

Lily kept her eyes on the sky. “First you must search for the Star of the North. It is the center of all things.” She pointed. “There, do you see it?”

His gaze followed where she pointed. “Yes.”

“To the left is the shape you English call the Plough. There are seven brilliant stars in the group.”

“I think I see it.”

“On the other side of the Star of the North there are five stars in a group—do you see them?”

He frowned but kept looking, finally saw the constellation she was trying to show him. “I see them.”

“Those stars form the figure of a woman. The Greeks call her Cassiopeia, the vain queen. Because she was so obsessed by her beauty.”

He chuckled. “I had no idea you were so enlightened.”

She shrugged. “These things I learned from my mother. The stars are a great comfort to me.”

“And a great adviser?”

“At times.” She turned back to the sky. For long minutes she remained silent, concentrating on the blackness above the earth, the distant, twinkling prisms. Loomis seemed content just to watch her.

More time passed. Finally, she let her posture relax. “Come. It is time we went back into the house.”

Loomis said nothing as they traveled the length of the hall, but the moment she stepped into the parlor, he asked the question she had hoped to hear.

“What did you see?”

Lily gave him her mysterious Tsaya smile. “I pictured you there among the stars. In my mind, the old woman appeared beside you—you know her name.”

Loomis subtly straightened. “Mrs. Crowley, I believe is her name.”

She nodded. “This woman…she owns many companies, but one will make you rich.”

“Which one, can you tell me?”

“Guns. I saw rifles, rows of them. It has something to do with the Americans. A struggle there could lead them to war and they will need weapons. The old woman…invest all you can and you will make a fortune.”

“Are you certain of this?”

She shrugged. “It is written in the stars. That is all I can say.”

She could almost see his mind working, remembering the predictions she had made, how they had all been correct, trying to discover any way he could have been
tricked. But Royal’s friends were the cream of British society and Loomis would never imagine they would be involved in any sort of swindle.

“I shall think on what you have said.”

“I warn you, this will happen soon.”

He nodded. “Thank you for seeing me, Tsaya.”

She made a faint bow of her head. “Good evening, Mr. Loomis.”

The rings on her fingers danced in the lamplight as he caught her hand. “Preston,” he softly corrected, pressing a kiss against the back. “We have become friends, have we not?”

Lily suppressed a shudder. “Friends…yes.” She retrieved her hand and forced herself to smile. “Good night…Preston.”

Through the window, she watched him descend the front-porch stairs and climb into his carriage. She waited till the carriage disappeared, then blew out a relieved breath and walked into the bedroom to pull off her itchy black wig. Though she wasn’t quite sure why, it bothered her for Royal to see her dressed as Tsaya. Perhaps she didn’t want to remind him of the life that she had once led.

Slipping the pins from her hair, she shook out the long blond strands and tied them back with a ribbon. Certain Royal had not yet left the house, she steeled herself to face him and walked down the hall to the kitchen. When she shoved through the door, she was surprised to discover that Dottie was gone and Royal stood in the kitchen alone.

“Mrs. Hobbs’s youngest daughter is sick. She needed to go home and check on her. I told her you were safe as long as I was here. I told her I would see you home.”

Tension tightened her shoulders. “But you can’t possibly do that. What if we are seen together? Dear God, getting caught together in the shop was bad enough.”

He blew out a breath. “I blame myself for that, Lily, and everything else that has happened between us. If I had left you alone in the first place—”

“The blame is hardly yours alone. What happened…it was like a train that kept speeding faster and faster and couldn’t be stopped.”

And the attraction was still there, his golden eyes said as they traveled over her face and the length of her bright silk garments, as strong as ever, maybe stronger.

He reached out and touched her cheek and she felt the heat of his fingers as if they burned her. “You look beautiful, even in your Gypsy clothes.”

She only shook her head. Just looking at him made her want him, made her heartbeat quicken and her body soften, preparing itself for him.

“There are things I would say to you, feelings I would share if I could.”

She nervously moistened her lips and his gaze sharpened. She fought to ignore the charged energy between them, vibrations so strong they seemed tangible. “Whatever we feel, we have to ignore. We’ve sinned enough, Royal.”

“If we sinned, why did it feel so right? Why is it I want to make love to you again? Why is it I dream of the way it felt to be inside you? Of simply holding you in my arms?”

Her eyes teared, and her body wept for him. She wanted him to touch her, make love to her. No matter the cost. No matter how wrong it was.

“I wish I were stronger,” she said, realizing that where Royal was concerned she hadn’t the least strength of will. “I wish I could walk away from you, but I can’t.”

She moved closer, reached up and cupped his cheek. Going up on her toes, she kissed him, a gentle, sweet kiss filled with longing and goodbye. It deepened, grew more fierce, and suddenly she was swaying against him, silently begging him for more.

She had made a vow to forget him, but now she found she could not keep it. When Royal tried to ease away, Lily would not let him.

“After tomorrow, there will be no turning back. This is our last chance to be together. I want this night, Royal. I need you this one last time.”

For an instant, he stood frozen. He was fighting a battle he could not win, a battle that demanded surrender. She heard his deep groan, signaling defeat, and then he was sweeping her up in his arms, carrying her out of the kitchen, down the hall to the bedroom that belonged to Tsaya.

He shoved open the door with his foot and set her on her feet. He couldn’t seem to undress her fast enough. He jerked the ribbon on her red silk blouse and shoved it down off her shoulders, planted his mouth over her nipple and groaned at the taste of her breast. He suckled her there, and heat tugged low in her belly. All the while his hands stayed busy, working the tabs on her bright silk skirts, shoving them down, along with her pantalets.

He paused long enough for her to step out of them and shed her satin slippers while he frantically tugged at his own clothes, the black knee-high boots, his full-
sleeved shirt and breeches. Naked, he stood before her and she marveled at the beauty of his lean, broad-shouldered build, the bands of muscle across his chest and the rampant fullness of his sex. He was big and hard and she wanted to feel him inside her.

His hot gaze skimmed over her, making her nipples peak and distend. Dampness seeped into her core and fierce, aching desire.

“If I could,” he said, “I would make love to you every night for the rest of our lives,” he said, and then she was back in his arms and he was kissing her, claiming her with his mouth and tongue. Deep, scorching kisses burned through her, wild, hungry kisses that seemed to have no end.

Lifting her up, he carried her over to the bed and settled her on the mattress, then came down on top of her. He laved her breasts and suckled her, grazed her nipples with his teeth, and desire clenched deep in her belly.

Kisses trailed over her neck and her shoulders, moist lips burned a trail past her navel. She cried out as his mouth settled over the entrance to her sex and he tasted her there. Sensation rocked her and waves of pleasure shot through her.

Royal laved and caressed her until she was trembling all over, her hands fisted in the bedsheets. A powerful climax shook her. Sweet pleasure rolled through her in long, endless waves. She thought that he would take her, ease the ache she knew he felt. Instead, he lay down beside her, lifted her and set her astride him.

He ran a finger along her cheek. “It’s your turn to ride, sweet lady.”

Her heartbeat quickened. Awareness of the hard male
body beneath her sent a flood of arousal into her blood. He was giving her control, allowing her to do whatever she wished. She could feel his rigid sex against the inside of her thigh, see the rapid rise and fall of his muscular chest.

She watched his face as she eased herself farther down his body, kissed his flat stomach, bent over and tentatively touched his shaft with her tongue.

“Lily, you don’t have to—” He broke off with a groan as she took him into her mouth, began to lick and taste him, learning what gave him pleasure as she went along.

He hissed in a breath. “Sweet God, Lily.” His whole body jerked as she cupped him in her hands, and a heady sense of power filled her. And a love for him so deep, tears burned her eyes.

“You have to stop, love,” Royal said thickly, his voice low and husky. “I want to be inside you and if you keep that up—”

She gasped as his hands spanned her waist and he lifted her astride him, settled her over his hardened length. For the first time, she realized what he had meant.
It’s your turn to ride, sweet lady.

Her excitement grew as she slowly sank down on his rigid shaft. He was thick and hard and she didn’t stop until he filled her completely. A shudder rippled through her as she rose and sank down again, rose and sank down.

“Lily…” he said and she could feel the tension in his lean, hard body.

Heat crawled through her, prickled her skin. His breathing grew shallow as she moved faster, took him deeper, rode him harder. Her heartbeat thundered. Her breath quickened and her insides started to quiver. She
felt his muscles tighten, felt his body jerk as he reached release and Lily started coming. Fierce sensation, pleasure deep and saturating, washed through her. Lily moaned and cried out Royal’s name as joy and sorrow combined, along with a feeling of sweet fulfillment.