by Lisa Kleypas
He was her enemy, she reminded herself silently as he approached. She must remember that, she must remember…
“Here.” Alex pressed the glass into her hands and sat nearby.
Lily sipped at the drink. The brandy had a light taste, unlike the fruitier distillations Derek always stocked. The mellow liquor had a steadying effect on her. Lily drank slowly and glanced at Alex, who hadn’t moved his gaze from her. She couldn’t quite work up the courage to ask if he intended to tell anyone what had happened.
He seemed to read her thoughts. “Does anyone else know?”
“Know about what?” she parried.
His mouth tightened impatiently. “Does it happen often?”
Staring into the brandy glass, she swirled it in feigned absorption.
“You’re going to talk to me, Lily,” he said grimly.
“You may call me Miss Lawson,” she shot back. “And while I’m certain you’re quite curious about my nocturnal habits, it’s none of your concern.”
“Do you understand that you could hurt yourself? Or someone else? Just now you nearly knocked the lamp over and started a fire—”
“That was because you startled me!”
“How long has this been going on?”
Lily rose to her feet and glared at him. “Good night, my lord.”
“Sit down. You’re not leaving until you give me some answers.”
“You may sit here as long as you wish. I’m going upstairs to my room.” She walked toward the door.
Alex reached her instantly, spinning her to face him. “I’m not through with you yet.”
“Take your hands off me!”
“Who’s Nick?” Alex knew he had hit a vulnerable spot when he saw her eyes widen to dark pools of fear. “Nick,” he repeated in a low jeer. “Some man you’re keeping company with? A lover? Does your cher ami Craven know about Nick, or have you—”
With a muffled sound Lily threw the brandy into his face, anything to make him stop, anything to silence the stabbing words. “Don’t say that name again!”
The brandy trickled down Alex’s face in golden rivulets, bright drops sliding down the harsh grooves that were carved from his nose to his mouth. “Not only Craven, but a lover on the side,” he sneered. “I suppose a woman like you would think nothing of crawling from one man’s bed to another’s.”
“How dare you accuse me! At least I confine my infidelities to the living!”
His face went pale while Lily continued recklessly. “You’re planning to marry my sister, even though you’re still in love with Caroline Whit-more. A woman who died years ago! It’s morbid, not to mention unfair to Penelope, and you know it. What kind of husband will you be to my sister, you obstinate brute, when you’ll insist on living in the past for the rest of…”
Lily stopped as she realized she’d gone too far. Alex’s face looked like a death mask. Once she had read a few lines that would have described him perfectly…More fierce and more inexorable far, than empty tigers or the roaring sea… His eyes bored into hers with an intensity that terrified her. He was going to kill her. The brandy glass dropped from her nerveless hand and fell to the thick Savonnerie carpet with a thump. The sound broke Lily’s paralysis. She turned to flee, but it was too late, Alex had caught her. There was nothing she could do but writhe helplessly as he jerked her head back.
“No,” she whimpered, thinking he might break her neck.
Instead his mouth came down hard on hers, his fingers gripping her nape to hold her still. Lily stiffened in surprise and pain. Her lips were ground against her teeth until the taste of blood mingled with brandy. There was no way to break free. She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth.
Suddenly Alex lifted his head with a groan. His gray eyes were hot and radiant, his tanned skin burnished with rising color. One by one his ringers unclenched from her nape. Almost tentatively, he moved his thumb over her bruised lip.
“You bloody bastard” Lily cried, childishly spiteful. She writhed as he bent his head again. “No—”
He took her lips in a savage movement, sealing off all sound and breath, suffocating her until she inhaled deeply through her nostrils. She made a move to free herself, but Alex gathered her close, tight, his hand sliding down her back and molding her hips to his. He shaped her mouth with bites and nudges, and sought the silkiness inside, his tongue delving in hot surges. Helplessly she shoved at his powerful body, dislodging the blue robe from his shoulder. Her palm came against the hair-roughened surface of his chest. Underneath her fingers, a driving pulse seemed to burn through her hand. He made a sound in his throat and cupped his hands around her head, holding her steady for the deep push of his tongue. His breath rushed hotly against her cheek.
Only half-conscious of what he was doing, Alex moved down to her throat, rubbing his mouth over her skin. His body was shaking with passion. The past years of loneliness seemed to melt away into nothing more than a dark dream. Feverishly he buried his lips against her soft shoulder. “I won’t hurt you,” he muttered, his breath burning through her gown. “No, don’t pull away…Caro…”
The syllables fell so softly on her ears that it took Lily several seconds to realize what he’d said. She froze.
“Let go,” she spat.
Abruptly she was set free. Her dazed eyes flew to his face. Alex looked as confounded as she was. They each backed away a step. Lily shuddered, crossing her arms over her chest.
Alex passed an unsteady hand over his jaw, wiping away the moist traces of brandy. Aroused and ashamed, he fought the urge to reach for her once more. “Lily.”
She spoke rapidly, not meeting his eyes. “It was my fault—”
“Lily—”
“No.” She didn’t know what he intended to say, she just knew that she couldn’t listen. It would be disastrous. “This didn’t happen. None of it. I…I…good night.” She disappeared from the room in a flurry of panic.
Alex shook his head to clear the red mist of passion, and made his way to the chair. He sat down heavily. Finding his hands were clenched, he opened them and stared into his empty palms.
Caroline, what have I done?
You poor fool, he could almost hear Caroline’s laughing voice say. You thought you could hold on to me forever. You planned to marry a sweet innocent like Penelope, and then you would never have to let me go. As if the memories would always be enough for you.
“The memories are enough,” he said stubbornly.
Why have you always considered yourself above ordinary human weakness? Above grief and loneliness. You think you need less than other men, when the truth is you need more, much more…
“Stop it,” he groaned, clasping his head in his hands, but Caroline’s mocking shadow-voice persisted.
You’ve been alone for so long, Alex. It’s time to go on…
“I am going on,” he said raggedly. “I’ll make a new beginning with Penelope. God help me, I’ll learn to care for her, I’ll make myself—”
Alex stopped suddenly, realizing he was talking to himself like some poor mad fool, holding an imaginary conversation with a ghost. He lifted his head and stared unseeing into the empty fireplace. He had to get rid of Lily, if only to preserve his own sanity.
Lily crawled into bed and pulled the covers high under her neck. She couldn’t stop shivering.
How could she face Raiford after this? She could feel herself turning scarlet, even in the darkness of her room. How could he have done that to her? What was the matter with her? Grinding her hot face into the pillow, she remembered his mouth against hers, his arms locked around her body.
He had whispered Caroline’s name.
Humiliated, strangely hurt, Lily rolled over and groaned. She had to settle things between Zachary and Penelope and leave Raiford Park as soon as possible. She couldn’t manage Raiford as she did other men, using her sarcasm, temper, or charm. He was impervious to those things, just as Derek was.
She was beginning to understand some of what Raifor
d concealed behind that implacable face. From his reaction to her mention of Caroline, she knew he had never come to terms with her death. He never would. All his love had been given to Caroline—she’d taken it to the grave with her. For the rest of his days Raiford would be haunted by her. He would resent every woman for not being Caroline. An innocent like Penelope would spend her life trying to please him, and find only misery in the effort.
“Oh, Penny,” she whispered. “I must get you away from him. He’ll grind you into dust, without even meaning to.”
Contrary to his expectations, Zachary was not announced to Lily upon his arrival at Raiford Park. Instead he was shown to the library, where the earl of Raiford awaited him alone. “Raiford?” Zachary questioned, shocked by his appearance.
Alex was sprawled in a chair, his thighs spread wide. A half-drained liquor bottle was balanced on his knee. The golden copper of his skin was pallid. Dark circles rimmed his eyes. Hard, bitter lines were etched on his face. The smell of whiskey was rank in the air, as was the acrid odor of tobacco. He was smoking heavily, and had been for some time, if the thick haze in the room was anything to judge by. His fingers were curled loosely around a cigar. Zachary doubted that many people had ever seen Raiford in such a condition. Some terrible misfortune must have befallen him.
“I-is something wrong?”
“Not at all,” Alex said brusquely. “Why do you ask?”
Hastily Zachary shook his head and cleared his throat a few times. “Ahem. No reason. I thought perhaps…ahem…you look a little tired.”
“I’m fine. As always.”
“Yes, of course. Ahem. I’m here to see Lily, so perhaps I’ll just—”
“Sit.” Drunkenly Alex waved a hand toward a leather chair.
Zachary complied nervously. A shaft of morning sunlight came through the window and brightened his ash brown hair.
“Have a drink,” Alex said, blowing out a stream of smoke.
Zachary squirmed. “Actually, I make a habit of avoiding strong drink until late afternoon—”
“So do I.” Alex lifted the glass to his lips and took a sloshing swallow. He studied his companion with a calculating stare. They were contemporaries, Alex thought, and yet Zachary hardly looked older than his brother Henry. The telling daylight illuminated Zachary’s boyish face—the clear skin and the brown eyes filled with youthful dreams and idealism. He was so damned suitable for Penelope. Anyone with a modicum of intelligence could see it.
Alex scowled. Caroline was gone. If the fates wouldn’t allow him to have the woman he loved, he’d be damned if he’d let Zachary have Penelope. Alex’s alcohol-soaked brain acknowledged that his attitude was selfish, cruel, pointlessly vengeful…but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything.
Except maybe one thing. One little thing that had been bothering him for some reason. “Who was Miss Lawson engaged to?” he demanded gruffly.
Zachary appeared to be confused by his abruptness. “You’re referring to the…er, episode ten years ago? When Lily was engaged to Hindon?”
“Hindon who? Lord Hindon’s son Harry?”
“Yes, Harry.”
“That cocky little dandy who stares into every looking glass he passes by?” Alex gave a scornful laugh. “That was her great love? I should have guessed she’d pick someone with more vanity than intelligence. And he was a friend of yours?”
“At the time, yes,” Zachary admitted. “Hindon had a certain charm—”
“What did she do to make him jilt her?”
Zachary lifted his shoulders in a defensive shrug. “It wasn’t anything in particular.”
“Oh, come,” Alex sneered. “She must have deceived him in some way, or publicly humiliated him, or—”
“Actually, she did deceive him. Though it wasn’t intentional. Lily was quite young back then, very eager and trusting. And naive. She fell in love with Hindon for his handsomeness, without realizing that he was a man of exceedingly shallow character. In order to attract Hindon, Lily concealed her intelligence and her strong will, charming him by acting like a featherbrain. I don’t believe it was a conscious plan to deceive him. She just naturally adopted the qualities that she sensed he would admire.”
“But eventually Hindon discovered what she was really like.”
“Yes, he began to realize it in the months after he had proposed to her. Hindon behaved with utter dishonor. He jilted her not long before the wedding. Lily was devastated. I offered for her instead, but she refused me. She said she was destined never to marry. Her aunt took her abroad for a number of years. They lived in Italy for a time.”
Alex concentrated on his cigar, his golden lashes lowered, concealing his thoughts. When he spoke, his voice was quieter than before. “She must have cut quite a swath across the continent.”
“No, she disappeared, actually. Years passed, and no one heard from her. Something happened to her in Italy, but she’s never told a soul about it. All I’m certain of is that Lily came to some sort of grief there. When she reappeared in England two years ago, I could see how she had changed.” Zachary frowned thoughtfully. “There’s a sadness in her eyes that never leaves. She’s a worldly, unique woman, with courage that few men could match.”
Zachary said something else, but Alex didn’t hear. He stared at the wholesome young man sitting across from him and remembered the sight of Lily kissing Zachary in the library. A blatant attempt to convince him they were lovers. Instead, the scene had demonstrated beyond a doubt that they shared nothing more than platonic friendship. While Lily had cuddled on Zachary’s lap and kissed him, he had sat there passively, his arms held stiffly at his sides. Hardly the behavior of a man embracing the woman he loved. If he had been in Zachary’s place…
Alex dismissed the forbidden thought and pinned Zachary with a brooding stare. “Lily’s a cunning little actress. But not good enough.”
“I say, you’re quite off the mark! Lily is genuine in everything she says and does. It’s clear you have no understanding of her.”
“No, it’s clear you don’t. And you’re similarly mistaken about me, Stamford, if you think I’ve been fooled by the infantile charade you and Miss Lawson have been putting on for my benefit.”
“What? I don’t understand—”
“You’re not in love with Lily,” Alex said sardonically. “How could you be? Oh, I’ll grant you have some sort of liking for her. But you’re also afraid of her.”
“Afraid?” Zachary turned purple. “Of a woman not half my size?”
“Let’s be frank, Stamford. You’re a gentleman of the first water. You’re incapable of hurting anyone, save to defend your principles. Lily, on the other hand, would do anything to get what she wants. Anything. She doesn’t have principles, and doesn’t respect them in others. You’d be a fool not to fear her. You’re her friend one moment, her pawn the next. Don’t think I intend any insult to you. I feel a certain sympathy for you.”
“Damn y-your sympathy!” Zachary spluttered.
“Penelope, on the other hand, is what every man dreams of. A girl with an appearance and bearing that are nothing short of angelic. You freely admit you were once in love with her…”
“Once, but no longer!”
“You don’t lie well. Stamford.” Alex crushed out his cigar and smiled cruelly. “Forget Penelope. Nothing is going to stop this marriage. I advise you to attend the first few balls of the season—there you can choose from dozens of girls just like her. Pretty, innocent girls, all eager to learn of the world and its temptations. For what you want, any one of them will suffice.”
Zachary shot up from his chair. He looked as if he were torn between pleading with Alex or calling him out. “Lily once said much the same thing to me. Apparently neither of you are able to see what I do in Penelope. It’s true she doesn’t have much courage, but she is hardly some empty-headed doll! You’re a selfish blackguard, Raiford! For what you’ve just said, I should—”
“Zachary,” Lily’s voice interrupted
. She was standing in the doorway, looking calm and determined. Her face was drawn, her eyes just as weary and smudged as Alex’s. “No more,” she said to Zachary with a faint smile. “It’s time for you to leave. I’ll take care of this.”
“I’ll fight my own battles—”
“Not this one, my dear.” Lily indicated the door with a jerk of her head. “Listen to me, Zach. You must leave. Now.”
Zachary strode to her and grasped her hands, turning his back on Alex. He looked down at her small face. “The plan has failed,” he muttered. “I have to face him, Lily. I must finish this.”
“No.” She stood on her toes to put her arms around his shoulders. One dainty hand came to rest on the back of his neck. “Trust me,” she whispered into his ear. “I swear on my life you’ll have Penelope. But you must do as I say, darling. Go home. I’ll take care of everything.”
“How can you say that?” he whispered back in amazement. “How can you pretend such confidence? We’ve lost, Lily, we’ve utterly—”
“Trust me,” she repeated, and stepped back from him.
Zachary turned to look at Raiford who was sprawled in the library chair like a debauched king on a throne. “How can you stand yourself?” he burst out. “Doesn’t it matter to you that the woman you’re about to marry is in love with someone else?”
Alex smiled mockingly. “You talk as if I held a gun to her head. Penelope accepted my suit of her own free will.”
“There was nothing free about it! She had no choice in this marriage. It was all arranged without her—”
“Zachary,” Lily interrupted.
With a mumbled curse, Zachary looked from her to Alex. Turning on his booted heel he strode from the room. Soon afterward there was the sound of his horse’s hooves as he rode along the graveled drive.