Twice Fallen (26 page)

It was his turn to laugh, shaking his head. “I am not here as a customer, and I am sure my intended would take exception to any line of inquiry under those circumstances.”

Actually, what a presumption. He hadn’t asked Lily to marry him yet; nor had he gotten permission from her older brother to make her his wife.

“You are getting married, my lord? That is not usually an obstacle to the gentlemen who come here. In fact, many come here more often because they are affianced and somewhat… shall we say, deprived before the wedding?”

“I am not deprived.” The words came before he thought and he gave an inward curse, but the image of Lily, soft and receptive and quivering in his arms had sprung forth, unbidden.

“Oh?” Cyrene’s eyebrows rose minutely. “How clever of your betrothed.”

His mouth twisted wryly. For a man well known to keep England’s secrets at all costs, he was not apparently very successful with his own. “My personal life aside, may I have just a few moments with each of Kinkannon’s paramours of choice when they have a free moment?”

“Paramours? Aren’t you tactful, my lord. I will see what I can do.” She rose gracefully and crossed the room, and a few moments later a maid answered the ring of the bellpull.

When he didn’t call in the early afternoon, Lily reminded herself at first that Damien no doubt had a good reason, though by three o’clock, she’d begun to fidget, and by the time he was announced just before four she had lost some of her serene poise. More alarming was how when he entered the drawing room, she had to prevent herself from leaping to her feet and rushing across the room.

How very gauche. How very unsuitable for a woman of her age, practically a spinster. How very…

…
very much like a woman in love
.

Elegance came to him easily. That she already knew. He adapted well to almost any setting, no doubt the chameleon ability that had made him so valuable during the war. For this formal call he wore a dark blue coat and fawn breeches and his chestnut hair curled against the crispness of his cravat.

She could recall this thick softness of it against her fingers as he moved his mouth persuasively against the aching tip of her breast.…

“I’m late,” he apologized as he advanced to take her hand, his limp somehow managing to be graceful, though it was no doubt due to her current hopeless, besotted state, the lack of symmetry to his gait uniquely
him
.

“Not at all, my lord,” Lily responded politely, hoping her blush over the brush of his mouth on the backs of her fingers was interpreted as maidenly pleasure over the arrival of a favored suitor and not as remembered pleasure of a completely different, carnal kind.

And somehow he knew. It was there in the hint of wicked amusement in his eyes, in the slight quirk of his mouth as he straightened.

This time he’d brought orchids. Perfect hothouse
blooms that emitted a delicate scent and pleased the duchess so much when he presented them that when he asked to take Lily for a short drive through the park, there was only a moment of hesitation before he was graciously granted permission.

Ah, the power of orchids and a very—deliberate, she knew him well enough for that—charming smile.

When they left the town house, her fingers on his sleeve, a cloak over her arm because it was still warm enough she didn’t need it, Lily murmured, “How clever of you to bring flowers for Her Grace instead of me.”

He slanted a glance at her as he handed her into a curricle with two matched bays that he obviously had driven himself. “They were supposed to be for you, but my plans changed and bribery is a perfectly acceptable medium of doing business. I had an unexpected errand, but I did not wish to break my word to you that I would call. If you can accompany me it allows us to spend time together and for me to take care of a small matter.”

Lily had to admit she had no idea what he exactly was referring to, but she was elated enough it didn’t matter. For the past four years she’d assured herself that she did not need a male dancing attendance upon her to feel alive, but then again, she’d never felt
this
alive before.

He wished to spend time with her and that was enough.

“What kind of errand?” she asked as he swung into the vehicle and took up the ribbons.

“One that would make the dowager faint into her teacup and forbid you to see me ever again.” His grin was quicksilver in the slanting afternoon light. “But then again, I’ve already committed more than one sin in that arena.”

Lily lifted her face into the breeze as they took off down the street at an exhilarating clip. “I am not trying to disillusion you, but I think it would take a great deal to make the duchess swoon.”

“I have every confidence
this
would.” His smile widened and a lock of hair played over his brow, making her want to lean forward and brush it aside, but the street was hardly the place to do it, no matter how swiftly they were moving along.

“More than having me kidnapped from my bed?” She raised a skeptical brow.

“And into mine? Perhaps.” He grinned. “Still, you must admit that was a brilliant idea.”

That lighthearted yet dangerous tone made her give him a sharp sideways glance, for she could not think of a more scandalous scenario than a seduction, but then again, he was far more worldly.

Life with him would be an
adventure
.

Infinitely so, she discovered a few minutes later when they whipped around a corner and were suddenly on an unfamiliar street, not that she really knew London except the well-traveled main thoroughfares. A half a mile or so farther down, he pulled up next to a carriage on the quiet street, holding the spirited horses easily in check with one hand and nodding at the occupant who had rolled up the window shade.

“Milord.” The woman who spoke was blond and pretty, though a slight gap between her front teeth gave her a gamine look. “So lovely to see you again.”

“Thank you for meeting me, Delilah.”

“My pleasure.”

The roguish tone of the response made Lily blink, and
for this time of day, she couldn’t help but note Delilah—whoever she might be—wore a rather revealing gown and the reference to a planned meeting was a bit disconcerting.

“Do you happen to have what I want?”

The young woman coughed delicately and Damien handed Lily a small bag he fished out his pocket. “Would you mind, my love?”

My love
.

Paralyzed, she sat there for a moment before she realized he wanted her to hand the coins over to the waiting Delilah, who snatched it up and in return passed over a packet wrapped in leather. Lily took it, clasping it in her gloved hand, still a bit bemused by not only this unusual meeting but also the endearment.

And that quickly it was over. Damien briefly clicked the reins and they rattled off. His only nod to the fact it happened at all was to say, “Please be careful with that, if you will. I went to some considerable trouble to get it.”

Obediently she tightened her grip on the packet. “Who was that woman?”

“Delilah? I am afraid I am unaware of her surname. It often works that way. Best for both parties that might be involved.”

“What works?” Perplexed, she turned and stared at him.

Sinewy fingers controlled the reins with seeming effortless ease as they headed down the street. His handsome profile was impassive. “An exchange of information.”

Lily took in a deep breath. “What sort of information?”

“The sort a man might reveal to a prostitute if he is ignorant enough to believe that just because of her vocation she has no intelligence.”

“I just spoke with a… a—” she stammered.

“A strumpet? Actually, I don’t think the two of you exchanged words at all.”

He was teasing her, she understood that, both from the tone of his voice and his swift sidelong amused glance. As usual he did everything so smoothly one hardly noticed they were swept along until they realized something unusual had happened. It was a rare talent and no doubt made anyone who possessed it a very valuable… well, spy.

But the war was over.

“You were correct,” she muttered after a moment. “The duchess might faint.”

“And perhaps she should.” He laughed, but then sobered. “I hope you aren’t offended that I included that small stop in our afternoon drive.”

It was odd, but she really wasn’t as shocked as she should be. “Not as long as it wasn’t the entire point of our outing,” Lily said wryly. She realized he was heading for the park, which was just as well, for they would be noted driving together.

“No. Not the main point at all. I wanted to see you.”

A facile answer, but she believed him.

“What is this?” she asked then, examining the plain missive but not opening it.

“Power.” Damien’s dark eyes gleamed. “If you didn’t know already, let me tell you, information is the most formidable weapon of all.”

H

The honorable gesture, James thought wryly as he nudged his horse up the long drive, the manor house in the background stately, the well-kept facade warm in the late-afternoon sun, after committing the very
dishonorable
act of bedding Viscount Altea’s sister.

If she heard of it, Regina would no doubt have his head on a platter, but that was a chance he had to take. For her sake, for the sake of their child, and damn all, for his sake too, because this was his
life
.

He dismounted and handed the reins of his horse to a stable lad, hoping since he had sent a note the day before Luke Daudet would be expecting him. His lordship, James was informed by the stoic butler, was with his steward, but Lady Altea had requested he be shown to the terrace to join her until her husband was free.

Moments later he found himself being graciously greeted by Regina’s very lovely sister-in-law, a stunning blonde with exotic dark eyes who gracefully offered her hand and dazzled him with her smile. A silver tea service
sat on an iron table and there were chairs on a flagstone area overlooking the ornamental gardens. A vining plant with frothy white flowers climbed up the pillars, and it the distance he could see a small gothic folly on the other side of a placid pond, complete with Greek columns and a pointed roof. The scene was bucolic and serene.

“Please have a seat, Mr. Bourne. Luke should be out shortly, but in the meantime may I offer tea, whiskey, or like my husband, do you prefer a combination of both?”

Despite his trepidation over the reception of this visit, he had to laugh at the knowing look in her eyes. “I can tell you are a woman who understands men. It was a rather long ride from London.”

“Please have a seat and I will pour, then.”

He waited for her to settle back into her chair before he sat down opposite her, watching the always pleasant sight of a female deftly serving tea, and was amused to see her splash a measure of whiskey from a small bottle into his cup, and then consider it and add a little more. When he accepted the delicate porcelain saucer, he said, “Can I come to the conclusion that you feel I might need that extra fortification, Lady Altea?”

Madeline Daudet took a dainty sip before answering, her gaze speculative. “If you are here about Regina, and I assume that is the case, you might want to move the bottle a little closer to your cup.”

Since James had no idea what—if anything—Regina had told her family about their relationship, he was not quite sure how to respond. In the end, he’d come to talk to Altea about his intentions toward his sister, so he said with raw emotion, “I’m here because I love her.”

“And, being Regina, she is resistant to the idea. Not
of you necessarily, but of letting someone else into her life.”

“Very perceptive. I see you know her well.” His tone was wry.

“I don’t know if I can claim that, but Luke does. They are very close.” Lady Altea glanced over at where a small bird hopped along the stones, her expression holding a hint of sympathy. “A word of warning: he’ll support Regina in whatever course she chooses. A scandal is incidental in his eyes compared to his affection for her.”

It wasn’t as if James didn’t already have that impression. Regina had been allowed to do as she pleased her whole life, she’d once told him—not smug or otherwise lofty, just matter-of-fact, secure in her place within the hierarchy of the Daudet family and their acceptance.

“I am uninterested in him forcing anything upon her, so that isn’t the issue, never fear. I am more looking for advice and insight than an ally. I want her, but only if it will make her happy.”

“How lucky she is.” His hostess regarded him, her slender fingers curled around the handle of her cup. “May I ask what brought you here now?”

Was that a cautious reference to the coming child? They could dance around the subject, or he could frankly say something about it. He cleared his throat and was about to speak when someone interrupted. “Good afternoon, Bourne. I must apologize for my tardiness. A business matter that couldn’t be ignored. I am sure you understand after being steward for your cousin for so long. I see Madeline is playing the hostess with her usual flair. Thank you, my dear.”