They immediately departed from the route she’d been acquainted with upon visiting the house. The footman led them into a grand receiving room by way of an artfully decorated corridor that proudly announced the residents’ fondness for antiquities. Not only Egyptian but Greek, Roman, and Chinese. Delicate little works of art and old artifacts decorated small niches in the paneled wood that must have been specially designed to accommodate them. When they reached the receiving room, the footman turned. “Who am I to announce?”
“Mrs. Lily Darling and escort.”
Reid clenched his jaw so tightly that a muscle twitched in his cheek. He spared a withering glare for her before he added in a clipped tone, “Mr. Reid Chatterley.”
The footman rapped sharply at the door, waiting for the chatter to quiet before he announced their names.
As the eddies of whispers subsided, Reid leaned closer. He wore a sharp cologne, one she didn’t recognize. As if he, too, donned a persona for the evening, this one foreign to her. She felt utterly out to sea.
“You forget, I am a scholar in my own right.”
Lily opened her mouth, then shut it again. How had she forgotten that? He could have gained her entrance into tonight’s soirée without Adam.
She swallowed thickly and whispered, “Forgive me.”
As he faced forward and led her into the room, the very last emotion to cross his expression was forgiveness.
The room was bedecked in Egyptian glory. Instead of showing an idyllic French scene, the panoramic wallpaper had been painted to resemble the walls of an Egyptian tomb. Pharaohs and bestial gods directed servants and slaves in acts of wonder. Painted figures hauled blocks twice their height toward half-formed pyramids. Nearby, the sphinx loomed over the procession. The walls in this room were works of art unto themselves, but Lord and Lady Ednam had not stopped there. What looked like eons-old statues and delicate clay bowls were placed on tabletops and wide units of shelving. Some of the features of these works had been robbed by time and the touch of too many fingers until the edges were smooth. What was left hinted at the same forms as those depicted on the walls.
Stepping into the room felt akin to stepping into the past. Save, of course, for the other guests gathered, all in practical, muted garments like the dress she wore. They carried notebooks and inkwells with pens at the ready. The small case she carried went entirely unnoticed. In the center of the room, a low, long wooden table formed a dais for the sarcophagus atop it. Like those of the statues, the details of the lid had been lost to time. In places, the dull, peeled paint lingered—like the eyes staring up out of the face. Glittering gems formed the remnants of the headdress, some pried from their sockets to leave gaping holes.
Beneath that faded, gaudy lid was an ancient, preserved corpse. And the gathering today planned to undress it. Lily suppressed a shudder. For now, the sarcophagus remained shut. The dozen other people clustered around the room in groups of two or three. Between them, smartly dressed footmen dashed with trays of amuse-bouches in the French style. A blatant display of wealth, as Lily had learned since taking up the managing of the household. Male servants, those able-bodied and able to fight in the war, were taxed heavily.
Tentatively, she entered the room. The hosts caught her attention first, Lady Ednam’s expression pinching as she took in Chatterley’s presence in place of Adam’s. Next to her, Reid stiffened.
I thought you were a scholar.
Clearly, he had done something to earn the enmity of the hosts. Presumably, his target, Lord Granby, was among the guests tonight.
Despite Lady Ednam’s clear displeasure, Lily directed Reid to the hosts, who stood closest to the door with another guest. As they approached, the thin, plain-looking man bowed his head and excused himself to go speak with the other guests.
Lily dipped in the shallowest of curtsies, a sign of respect among equals. “Thank you for inviting me here today. I am eager to see the mummy unveiled.”
Lady Ednam narrowed her eyes. “Did you not bring your husband?” As at Lady Breeding’s soiree, she was the most gaudily dressed in the room, a peacock among hens.
“I’m afraid business called him away. I did not want to leave you with an uneven number of men. I hope you don’t mind that I asked my friend, Mr. Chatterley, to join us? He is an esteemed scholar, like myself.”
Reid glanced sideways at her, but his expression was unreadable. Surely he didn’t think she’d been invited here without pretense!
He inclined his head at Lady Ednam’s murmur of interest. “My companion is greatly accomplished.”
With a twist of the mouth, Lady Ednam muttered, “So I’ve heard.” She did not sound as though she had believed the gossip. “I do not recognize the name. My Ednam searched for it since our last meeting. Perhaps he missed the scientific journal with your contributions?”
Lily smiled. The issues of the periodicals danced in front of her mind’s eye. “I contributed to the July and August issues of The Universal Magazine of Knowledge and Pleasure last year. Or perhaps you’ve seen me in last month’s issue of the Antiquities Review.”
Next to her, her husband hummed under his breath. “I may have one of those in the study. Perhaps, after everyone is settled, I’ll send a man to take a look.”
Lily inclined her head. “I used my initial for the journal, not my full name. Perhaps that’s why you don’t recognize it. You’ll find me under L. Darling.”
Again, Reid frowned at her. Don’t betray me. Dismissing her out of hand, he added his credentials, a far longer list than the one Lily had provided.
Nodding, Lord Ednam pushed his spectacles higher on his nose. “Ah, yes. You’re that Chatterley. I believe you were doing some work with the royal succession in Memphis in the Seventh Dynasty?”
“I focus on discovering remnants of the reigns of Merenhor and onward, if that is what you mean by Seventh.”
“Ah, the Eighth.”
“If you subscribe to the drivel that the Seventh existed at all.” Reid’s smile was brittle. Four years ago, he would have brightened at the prospect of speaking with someone who loved antiquities as he did. He used to trip over his tongue, reciting the latest thing he’d read in a scientific journal. Tonight, he looked as fascinated by the subject as if the hosts had decided to pull out his fingernails.
“Ah, you’re one of those.” Lord Ednam didn’t sound impressed.
Lily didn’t know the first thing about their debate.
“The Seventh Dynasty is no more than a metaphor for the chaos of a changing regime.” Reid sounded as though he recited the information by rote. He had no passion for the subject.
Desperate to change the topic, Lily turned to the hostess. “The room is breathtaking, Lady Ednam. I don’t believe I’ve seen anything like it. Did you redo it to complement the mummy unveiling?”
The cost of such a venture nearly made Lily choke.
Lady Ednam laughed, waving her hand through the air in dismissal. “We host far too many such intellectual evenings to redecorate every time. This mummy is one of many we’ve purchased. We donate the others to the museum, you see, once we’re through with them.”
Warming to the subject, her very forgettable husband nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes. We don’t know very much about him yet, but when we begin—as we will shortly—we will open the sarcophagus and examine the contents in an effort to hypothesize about his life. I trust you brought a notebook in that case of yours?”
Lily hadn’t realized it was expected. She smiled, but it felt brittle. “Only my tools, I’m afraid, but I have a very good memory. Would you be willing to introduce me to some of your other guests? I don’t believe I recognize many here.”
“Of course,” Lady Ednam exclaimed. “You’re the last guests to arrive, so I won’t be needed near the door any longer.” The reprimand cut the air, loud enough for the room to hear.
Li
ly straightened her spine, refusing to show weakness. She followed, acting congenial but shy as the hostess introduced her around the room. Reid remained locked in his debate near the door.
At last, Lady Ednam introduced her to the Lord Granby, a baron nearing fifty with thick whiskers framing either side of his square face. He bore all the marks of a nobleman—the self-important bearing, the indolence, the marks of money without the stain of work or responsibility.
“And this is Mrs. Darling. She claims to be a great scholar.”
The dismissal in the hostess’s voice called a flush of heat to Lily’s cheeks. She didn’t have the complexion to hide it. Modest. Demure. She ducked her face, the stray strands Adam had removed from her coiffure tickling the edge of her jaw. “I don’t know if I’d be so bold as to name myself great.”
Lord Granby exchanged a glance with Lady Ednam, clearly unimpressed.
Lily stumbled over her tongue. “I mean to say, I have made my share of contributions. In…” The name of the journals escaped her. Her thick tongue clung to the roof of her mouth and her heart hammered in her throat as she fought the widening holes in her memory. The longer she struggled for the words, the more she felt her prospects crumple. Lady Ednam appeared almost triumphant.
Will I let my family name be the object of ridicule yet again?
Will I fail my family and see them tossed on their ear?
Lily searched the room for an ally. If Adam were here, he would have already come to her aid. Reid couldn’t behoove himself to notice she’d left his side. What journals had she named mere moments ago? Think, Lily!
Her gaze landed on one of the blue-clad footmen. This one, tall and fit, angled his tray in front of his face, higher than most guests could easily reach. As he turned to service another guest, the candlelight illuminated his profile.
Lily’s heart skipped a beat. Adam was dressed as one of the servants.
Chapter Eleven
Although Adam should have barricaded himself in the room he’d been allotted and awaited Lily’s return, he could not leave her in the hands of that scoundrel. He knew that by infiltrating Lord Ednam’s house, he jeopardized their goal. But if it kept her safe…
He didn’t trust Chatterley.
Entering the house was surprisingly easy considering that the hosts had hired temporary staff to serve the guests for the evening. Once Adam acquired the livery from a man fool enough to leave his post, no one had questioned his presence. In fact, when he’d adopted a meek persona, the staff had been too busy tending to the evening to recognize him for the physician he’d played mere days ago. In his previous life, he would have basked in the triumph of such an easy manipulation.
The ruse extended to the hosts. Men with money lining their pockets thought themselves above the common man. The moment a man donned livery, he rendered himself unremarkable. Stamped as property, and given as little notice except to find offense. Adam could have served Lord Ednam, but his aim tonight was not to thumb his nose at the aristocracy. He only wished to protect and support Lily.
But in so doing, he had to avoid the gaze of her escort. Chatterley would recognize him. Adam bristled and fought to keep the tray at an even angle as he circulated the room, pretending deference to guests he did not recognize. He studiously avoided the ones he did. All the while, he kept Chatterley pinned in sight. Whatever his reasons for insinuating himself tonight, they were not altruistic.
In Adam’s opinion, he deserved to have his nose rearranged. Adam wrestled with the violent urge as he watched Chatterley ingratiate himself to Lord Ednam. Lily, sensible woman that she was, had left him in her wake to circulate among the other guests. Lord Granby, the man to whom Chatterley had sold his precious artifact, must be in the room. Unfortunately, he’d given no indication with either body language or words.
Despite his resolve to watch Chatterley, Adam’s gaze continually strayed to Lily. He should be standing next to her, claiming her as his partner for all the room to see.
But he’d lost the right to claim her when he’d walked away. When Chatterley had forced him to walk away. Not this time. This time, Adam would not be parted from her until he was certain that she had shaken Chatterley’s noose.
He briefly checked that mongrel’s position—still deep in conversation with Lord Ednam. When he returned his attention to Lily, he found her staring at him, her lips parted.
He held her gaze and gave her a surreptitious shake of the head. Don’t draw attention to me. Her freckles splashed dark against her milk-pale cheeks. Would she swoon? She never had before. If she did, he wouldn’t be at liberty to catch her.
His tray almost empty, he offered its contents to one last guest and turned on his heel toward the door. The back of his neck tingled and he held his breath, afraid of the stir that might result in his wake if Lily succumbed to shock. In the corridor, he dropped his meek manservant persona and lengthened his stride, searching out the first unoccupied room. The click of footsteps followed him.
The room he found stank of dust and disuse. Sheets curtained the furniture—a settee, a table, a pianoforte. The shapes were difficult to discern in the dark. He left the shutters fastened, not wanting to alert others to his presence.
His pursuer needed no more light than the tallow candles lighting the way for servants to carry their trays without tripping. She followed him into the room. Despite the darkness enveloping the room, she had no trouble finding him. She eased the door partway shut, showing him a profile he had long since memorized. Ruthless, she advanced on him until his back pressed against the wall.
Her breath skated over the sensitive underside of his chin, sending shivers cascading through him. He tightened his hold on the tray to keep from shutting his eyes and forgetting where they were—and who they now were.
“What are you doing here?” Lily demanded.
“Our mission,” he said between gritted teeth.
She took a step back, and he swallowed disappointment. Without a candle, it was difficult to interpret her body language. She stood nearby, but she might as well have put an ocean between them.
“If someone sees you, you could jeopardize everything.”
“They won’t notice me. I’m dressed as a footman.”
She threw her hands in the air. “You can’t possibly think that is a valid disguise! I recognized you at once. The hosts tonight—”
“I know.” He clipped off the words, silencing her.
She recoiled, another small step back. “Adam…”
He’d dreamed of hearing her say his name again. But not with the censure that dripped from her lips tonight.
“If you cross me…”
He stepped forward, lifting his hand to caress the curve of her cheek and stop her from finishing that sentence. She flinched away from his touch.
“I’m helping you. Why do you think I would be here to undermine you?”
“I know you for the devil that you are. You haven’t yet named your price—”
He fisted his hands to keep from pulling her closer. The silver tray, warm from his body heat, etched itself into his palm. Over the past few days, he and Lily had worked seamlessly together. What had happened?
Chatterley.
If anyone had a price to pay, it was that blackguard.
“I have no price. I hurt you and I’m looking to make amends. Nothing more.”
Silence rang in his ears. She held her stiff posture, her breaths shallow.
“How can I believe that? I trusted you last time and…”
It wasn’t my choice.
He bit his tongue to stifle the confession. At this late date, she wouldn’t believe him. If Chatterley carried out his threat, Adam wouldn’t be the only person ruined. Lily would fall with him.
He couldn’t bear that burden.
“I’m here to support you. I won’t draw attention to myself, but I
need to see this through.”
“You don’t trust me to do as you taught?”
Her small voice cut through him, wounding him to the quick. He swallowed hard.
“As I said, I know I hurt you. I won’t hurt you again.”
He would rather die.
More footsteps sounded down the corridor, making her jump. She glanced at the door over her shoulder, then back at him. “Go home. You’ve given me the tools I need— Now you must trust me to wield them.”
Hell and damnation, but she was right. It’s not you I don’t trust.
Softly, he murmured, “I don’t trust Chatterley. I fear he might try to dig his claws in deeper.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
The footsteps paused. After a moment’s hesitation, they continued, growing louder.
She glanced over her shoulder again. “I shouldn’t be in here with you. I must return to the party. Let me do this, Adam. I’m not as helpless as you think.”
As she turned on her heel, it took everything in him not to follow. I don’t think you’re helpless. Nevertheless, he couldn’t bury his protective instincts. He owed her, and this was the only way he could level that debt.
…
Lily had never considered herself an Egypt enthusiast, but excitement hummed in her veins as she returned to the receiving room. In the course of their preparation, Lily had read copious texts detailing the sort of precious stones and metals used in ancient Egyptian jewelry. These works of art were buried with the body of the mummy, in between the layers of swaddling. Despite her distaste for the corpse beneath, she was curious to see and handle this ancient jewelry.
“Mrs. Darling, is that you?”
Lily jumped. She turned, finding the host bustling toward her with a sheaf of papers—no, a periodical—in his hands.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
She pressed the back of her hand to her hot cheek. Why had he been searching for her? “I had difficulty finding the withdrawing room.”
The Price of Temptation Page 13