Summers, Jordan (20 page)

Lily glanced out the window. The stars were bright in
the night sky. She didn’t know what time it was but it certainly didn’t look
anywhere near dawn. She dismissed the thought as unimportant. It wouldn’t do
for Richard to be seen climbing out of her window. As much as she wanted him to
stay until morning, she knew it was best that he leave.

He dressed in a flash, years of practice coming into
play. Lily watched Richard slip through the window, silence followed as he went
over the edge. She listened to hear his footsteps but none came, which seemed
odd, but not necessarily unusual. Richard wasn’t like other men. He did things
with an inborn flair and finesse. She rose and gathered her gown, quickly
dressing, then laid back down.

The room smelled musky from their lovemaking. A sliver
of blood stained her sheets. She stared down at the spot beside her, trying to
figure out what excuse she would use with Tildy. Not that she had to give her friend
one, but since they’d grown close through the years, Lily knew Tildy wouldn’t
let the stain go without an explanation.

Perhaps she could tell her she’d injured herself with
the letter opener. Lily giggled as she imagined Tildy’s disbelieving expression.
Her body continued to tingle from the bed play with Richard. She’d always
wondered what the fascination was about making love, now she knew. Some matrons
made sex sound like a duty one must perform. They’d gone so far as to suggest a
proper young woman, when pressed upon by a man, should lie back and think of
England
.

From their conversations Lily got the distinct
impression, the act was unpleasant. Tonight with Richard had been anything but.
She smiled and snuggled deeper into the linens. Richard’s distinct scent
lingered, surrounding her. The scrape of a door drew her attention from her
wayward thoughts.

* * * * *

Lord Archibald Devlin stumbled into his home near dawn
after using the latchkey to gain entrance. He’d spent most of the night at
Caulfield’s gaming. He was in a foul mood from having lost more blunt and
seeing his daughter’s fiancé partake of Rose, who should have been his pound of
flesh for the evening.

Was it not bad enough he had to give his only daughter
to the fiend, did Richard have to take his night’s entertainment, too?
Archibald scoffed. He’d promised Lily to Lord Nathaniel Martins, not that she’d
known until recently, but the change in plans angered Martins enough to call in
Devlin’s gambling markers. He should kill the bastard—both of them, that way he’d
take care of two problems, Lyon and Martins at the same time.

Everything would have been so much easier if Lily had
just married Martins. The man could be controlled, shaped, molded into a
financial partner, unlike Lyon who could not be bought. Devlin wavered as he
walked to the library. He threw back the door with a bang and made his way to
the tantalus, removing a bottle of brandy. He poured some into a glass,
sloshing it over the sides.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath.

He brought the pungent liquid to his lips and tipped
the glass back. Fire burned down his throat as he swallowed the amber brew. He
inhaled, his nostrils singeing from the brandy.

“I ought to tell her exactly what kind of man she’s
marrying,” he grumbled. “Would serve
Lyon
right and
maybe, just maybe change her mind about marrying him.” It was his last chance,
last hope.

He swayed, the room swimming before his eyes, then
refocused. Devlin refilled his glass, setting the bottle down with a clank,
continuing to mumble to himself. “Thinks he can do anything, because of paying
off my debts,” he snorted. “I’ll show him… happy marriage… ha! By the time I’m
finished talking, Lily won’t want anything to do with him and my plans will be
back on track.”

Archibald took another drink, then grabbed the bottle
and staggered for the library door. His face twisted into a drunken sneer as he
made his way down the corridor and up the stairs to Lily’s bedroom. The higher
he climbed the better his spirits became. He traveled down the wing, bumping
into the wall. His brandy continued to spill from his glass, onto the floor and
his breeches.

“Damn, wasting good Napoleon.”

He reached Lily’s bedroom a few moments later, his eyes
trying to focus in the dark. He was doing the right thing. He knew it. Devlin
tapped the bottle against the wooden door. It clanked loudly in the silence of
the night. He heard not a sound from inside the room. Archibald hit the door a
little harder, this time shattering the brandy bottle.

“Damn! See what he made me do.” He leaned up against
the door, nursing the remaining liquid in his glass.

A voice called out. “Father is that you?”

Archibald cleared his throat after taking another pull
from the glass. “Open the door, gel. I’ve got to speak with you.”

Lily slipped the latch and opened the door. Her father
swayed and almost fell inside at her feet, catching himself at the last moment
on the frame. A fume of brandy surrounded him, causing her to gag. Lily’s
stomach rolled as she took a step back and went to stoke the dying fire in the
hearth.

“I must tell you something.”

The flames grew brighter, casting a warm glow on the
two chairs placed in front of the hearth. “Please come sit down, Father.” Lily
lit the candelabra nearby and took a seat in one of the chairs.

Archibald stumbled forward, his feet dragging against
the carpet. Brandy swirled and sloshed out with each step. Lily cursed inwardly
and waited for him to reach her. He plopped down in the seat opposite and eyed
her for a moment over the rim of the glass. It was difficult not to compare his
character to that of Richard’s. Lily’s heart swelled at the thought of her
fiancé—her lover.

In a week’s time they’d be married and her father could
find himself another caretaker. She was finished. Tonight she’d experienced
something so gloriously precious, that not even her father’s drunken state
could ruin it.

“What I’ve got to say, you’re not going to like, but it’s
got to be done.”

“Is it about my missing dowry?”

“Dowry?” He paused and met her eye. “No, no not that,
the dowry’s been gone for years.” He waved his hand dismissively as if the fact
that he’d spent her dowry meant nothing.

Every muscle in Lily’s body tensed. She knew without a
doubt she wasn’t going to like what her father had to say, but had no choice
other than to listen. She inclined her head for him to proceed.

“Tonight I was at Caulfield’s.” He slurred.

Lily’s lips thinned.

“Don’t pull a face on me, daughter. I’m not the one in
the wrong here.” He waved his hand in front of him sending brandy dripping onto
the carpet.

“Father, what are you talking about?” Lily tried to
hide the bitterness in her voice without success.

“You won’t feel so haughty in a moment.” Archibald’s
eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, closing the distance between them.

Lily was tempted to hold out her hand to push him back
for fear he’d topple onto his nose. She decided in his present state he wouldn’t
feel it anyway so there was no need. Lily took a steadying breath, trying to
brace herself for his news.

“You think that man of yours is so perfect, so much
better than Martins.” Spittle shot from his mouth and landed on her robe. Lily
curled her lip in disgust. “Well let me tell you he isn’t.”

She wiped the spittle away, her stomach knotting into a
tight fist. “What are you talking about Father?”

“You think once you marry, he’ll be true, but that’s
not so.” Archibald took another swig. “He’s like all the others of his ilk.
They marry because they have to, not because they want to. Everything boils
down to money. You mean no more to him than a purchase, at least with Martins
there may have eventually been feelings of fondness.”

Lily’s heart pounded, as if the hounds of hell nipped
at her heels. “Why are you telling me this Father?” Her hands twisted in her
robe, her knuckles turning white under the pressure.

“Don’t think this arrangement is made of love, gel.
There is no such thing,” he barked.

“Not even you and mama?” Lily’s eyes began to sting as
tears threatened to spill. It was one thing knowing the truth, but hearing it
brought home the reality.

Archibald took a deep breath, his blue eyes softening
for a moment. “Your mother was an exception, very rare in this day, but it didn’t
stop me from seeking others to warm my bed.”

Lily’s body trembled. The fire crackled beside them.
Her mind raced back to the moment by another fire, Richard had proposed. Warmth
lit her heart and spread throughout her body. She held that memory dear,
refusing to release it. He’d professed…
what
had he professed
?

“Get to the point, Father,” she bit out brittlely.

He glared at her. “You were bought and paid for, plain
and simple.”

Lily felt the blood drain from her face. “What?” Her
gaze darted to the bed across the room, where only an hour ago Richard had
filled her. Newfound warmth pooled in her belly, prodding her nipples until
they grew taut.

“I told you that a sacrifice had to be made to save the
family.” He pointed to her, snapping Lily back from her musings. “You, my dear,
were that sacrifice.”

Suddenly Lily felt cold. She rubbed her hands along her
arms willing warmth into her body. “What do you mean? You are talking in
riddles.”

“I mean, Lord Lyon paid off half our debts for the
privilege of marrying you. The other half will be covered after the wedding. He
simply dressed up his intentions in a prettier package.” Archibald sat back,
staring at the empty glass in his hand. “He’s been fucking a whore named Rose
on the side and he’s not likely to stop after you’re wed.” He shrugged. “I
caught him with her tonight, not that it matters. It’s a man’s right to seek
his pleasures where he may.”

Lily’s stomach rolled again, churning her insides.
There must be some mistake. Her father’s next words erased the last glimmer of
hope from her heart.

“You had better get used to how things are in the
world. At least with Martins his intentions weren’t hidden behind a façade of
righteous nobility.”

“What about our fortune?” she choked out the question
past the lump in her throat, even though she knew the answer from examining the
books.

Archibald’s face looked pained for a moment before it
hardened once more. “Gone.” He paused. “All gone.”

Lily sat stone still, refusing to meet her father’s
gaze, focusing on the flames instead. It would have hurt less if he’d struck
her. In a way he had, just not with his fists. She heard him rise out of the
chair. Paying off their debts for the privilege of marrying her was one thing,
business in wedding arrangements were common, but to lie and claim she was the
only woman in his life was quite another. Richard hadn’t even had the decency
to look away, when he’d done so.

He never told you
he loved you
, the little voice inside her head whispered as if she needed
reminding.

Lily’s heart skipped a beat and pressure closed in
around her chest. She gasped desperately for breath. She heard the latch slip and
the door close as her father left her room. She glanced up at the closed door,
unable to move. Pain seared through her, threatening to overwhelm her sanity.
She’d known from the start he was a rake. Had known and chose to look the other
way, believing that he’d become reformed by her love. She’d even allowed him to
make love to her tonight, giving herself freely.

She choked back a laugh. Her eyes stared unseeing. She’d
been such a fool. He’d probably considered her a dim-cap for being so fanciful.
Lily’s stomach lurched, emptying its contents onto the floor. She bit back a
cry, her hand flying to her mouth.

Her mind raced through possibilities, only one seemed
open to her, even though the act would bring scandal upon her family name. Dare
she call the wedding off? Lily saw no alternative. She could not abide by the
lies.

He lied to his
friend, he told you as much.
Why are
you surprised?
Then it hit Lily, she and Richard had been discussing her
the other night in the carriage. That could be the only logical explanation and
like a true dim-cap she’d given him advice. What a laugh he must have had when
he drove off. Had he planned on telling her the truth tonight? Was that why he
hesitated removing his clothing? Anger surged through Lily, the likes of which
she’d never experienced. Her entire being seethed with fury.

Tomorrow she would call upon Richard Sebastian Stuart,
the sixth Earl of Lyon and announce the dissolution of their pending union. It
mattered not that she’d never make a match thanks to her father’s loss of her
dowry. After Lord Lyon, she was through with rakes, through with men.

Her father would have to come up with some other way to
pay off the debts he’d incurred. Need be she’d become a governess. Lily wasn’t
averse to work. In the end it would be for the best. She’d almost made the
mistake of marrying for love, a mistake that would have cost her dearly in the
end, like her poor mother.

Luckily her father had opened her eyes to the deceit in
time for her to remedy the problem. She would not be marrying Richard, Martins,
or any man for that matter. Decision made, Lily rose from the chair. She
grasped the bell pull and summoned Tildy to help her clean the mess in her
room. Moments later a sleepy Tildy arrived, tidied the mess and helped Lily
slip out of her soiled clothing.

Lily changed into a clean gown and slipped beneath the
covers of her bed. Tomorrow would be a taxing day, requiring all of her
strength. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the ache in her chest, which
was easier said than done.