When she got to her feet, she shortened the distance between them but stirred altogether too many memories. A whisper of space separated them, near enough to feel the heat shielded by the waistcoat and shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. Near enough for him to snake his arms around her waist and kiss her deeply, as he had so many times before. Her mouth tingled. She tried to sidestep him, but he refused to give her quarter.
“Will you now admit that you need my help?”
She curled her fists, as much in anger as to keep from touching him. After the way Sophie had left, she craved comfort. Warmth. Most of all, she wanted to forget the look in her sister’s eyes. Adam could provide her with all of that and more.
He’s hurt you, too.
With every repetition, the cautious voice seemed to grow fainter. And the curious one, the one that wanted to ask after his fidelity all these years, strengthened. She trembled, pressing her lips together as she fought the tumult within.
“Lily?”
She blinked hard against the stinging in her eyes, focusing on the cloth-covered buttons in front of her nose.
When he slipped his fingers beneath her chin and tilted up her face, his eyes were soft. “I know you don’t wish to trust me. I know I’ve said this a thousand times before. But Lily, please listen to me. I’m here for you and you alone.”
She pressed her lips together and pulled out of his grasp. This time, he took note of her body language and stepped back. The cool air between them should have granted her clarity. Instead, she had to fight the urge to draw him nearer. She was so conflicted, so wrung out, and so weary.
I can do this on my own.
Could she? She hadn’t received the invitation to Lord Granby’s house. She didn’t know enough about Egyptian antiquities; and moreover, her heart wasn’t in this endeavor. When she stopped to think about the matter, it made her feel as if she were carved from cinders. She didn’t want to embitter someone the way Reid had been embittered by his loss. Lord Granby had done nothing to anyone involved except purchase, legally, an object Reid desired.
She shut her eyes rather than confess how much she desperately wanted Adam’s help.
“Where have you been, these past four years?” Her whisper scarcely reached her ears. Her throat tightened.
She braced herself for the inevitable teasing question. Are you certain you wish to know? Perhaps she didn’t.
But she must. She’d held off in asking this question for too long—afraid of the answer.
When Adam hesitated, she opened her eyes to study his expression. He ran the tip of his tongue over his upper lip as if composing his answer. “I’ve been in a village in the north. Ashton-under-Lyne. It’s very small. You’ve likely never heard of it.”
She hadn’t, which puzzled her all the more. “What the devil have you been doing there?”
“Work.”
She raised her eyebrows.
With a fleeting look of chagrin, he clarified, “Honest work. Carpentry mostly. Some manual labor.”
If anything, that baffled her further. “You absconded to the country with my dowry to do manual labor?”
He flinched away. “I didn’t— Lily, I… To hell with this!”
Lily took a hasty step back. She shouldn’t have asked. “Forget it. Let’s focus on the task at hand. How do you propose to get an invitation to Lord Granby’s house?” When he didn’t immediately answer, she crossed her arms. “Please tell me you have a plan!”
The expression on his face turned from soft to mischievous. Crinkles formed at the corners of his eyes as he smiled. “I thought you knew me better than that.”
“Four years have passed. You might have lost your edge.”
Adam laughed. “If we want to gain access to Lord Granby’s, we have to ingratiate ourselves to the real influence in the house. Not the lord.”
Lily frowned. “Then who?”
“You mean to tell me you haven’t done your research?”
She scowled at the teasing in his voice.
“It seems as though you do need me, after all.”
“Adam.”
He stepped closer. “Everything comes at a price, my dear. Even information.”
She squelched her irritation. This was what she had expected from the beginning. At last, Adam was flying his true colors once more. It should have made her relieved to finally not have to question his motives. Instead, she felt even more burdened.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to treat me as an equal in this. I have as much at stake as you do if this turns awry.”
Lily scoffed. “You do not.”
“It could be the hangman’s noose for us, darling.”
He spoke the words with a cynical twist of his mouth, but it left her blood chilled. She’d been so consumed with the ramifications Reid would inflict on her family if she refused that she’d never stopped to think of the legality. Men and women were hanged for less. And she was no experienced thief.
Softly, Adam murmured, “There’s a reason I manipulated my targets into handing me the contents of their pockets of their own volition. It is far more difficult to prove and prosecute the violation.”
Lily bit her lip. “Should we be doing this at all?” Although she tried to contain them, tears spilled onto her cheeks. She brushed them away briskly.
He fiddled with the loose cravat at his throat. Without looking at her, he mumbled, “That is a question only you can answer.”
Tell Reid you tried and failed. Lily passed her hands over her face, trying to scrape together some semblance of composure. With the consequences so high, Lily feared what would happen to her family if she failed. Surely Reid had not considered that she might die during the course of this endeavor.
If all he wanted was to force her to make amends because she had chosen Adam, perhaps she could swallow her pride and convince him of her repentance.
But she couldn’t dissolve her marriage. And even if she could, she wouldn’t choose to entertain a man who held her family’s debts over her head. A man who, she feared, wouldn’t hesitate to consign them all to debtors’ prison or worse.
One way or another, Lily was trapped.
“You don’t have to stay in London.”
Adam’s deep, soft-spoken voice wrapped around her like a warm embrace. She shivered, feeling more alone and fragile than ever. Grimacing, she dropped her hands to look at him.
“I do.”
“Your sisters would acclimatize.”
He sounded firm about this. Perhaps even adamant.
“I cannot convince Mama to allow me to let out the rooms we aren’t using. How will I ask her to leave the house? No, she clings too tightly to Papa’s ghost.” Lily picked at her cuticles. “Besides, the shop is here.”
He stepped closer, his hands hovering above her shoulders as if he wanted to draw her into his arms. If he tried, she might not have the willpower to pull away. She craved his touch, his comfort. He’d done nothing but help her since returning to London. Was he so untrustworthy?
“You can set up another shop—”
Lily laughed bitterly. “I cannot successfully run the one bequeathed to me. With our debts, I’d have to cut short our losses and leave with what little possessions we still have, if that. I wouldn’t have the money to let another shop, let alone the stock to sell.”
“If I…”
“No.” She lifted her hand, laying her palm on his chest. He felt so warm, so firm, so… She shook her head to clear it. “I want nothing from you.”
“Equals,” he admonished, his voice low. “We’re in this for better or worse.”
She blinked hard against a hot flood of tears, clenching her hand in his waistcoat. “Where were you when Papa died?”
“I didn’t know he was ill.” His voice broke. It matched the look in his eye
s. “Lily, I swear to you, I would have come had I known. Damn the consequences.”
She was as weak as reused tea leaves because she wanted to believe him. Hell and damnation, she did believe him. And as the flood of tears broke over her cheeks, she leaned closer, burying her face in his starched cravat.
His arms settled around her like a fortification against the world at large. Here, she felt safe. He held the weight of the world off her shoulders, however briefly. He cradled her as though the tears she wept into him were precious rather than a sign of weakness. She’d held herself together for four long years…
“I don’t know what to do,” she confessed.
“Neither do I.” His voice was hoarse. “But I promise you, whatever comes, we will face it together.”
Needing more of his solid comfort, Lily snaked her arms around his waist. His warm, solid body stanched the flow of her tears. I shouldn’t be doing this. For once, she didn’t care. The voice, faded to a whisper, was easily ignored. She had danced the line between right and wrong so often in the past weeks that it had been scuffed out. She surrendered to her husband’s embrace without guilt.
“Together.”
His arms tightened around her. He laid his cheek atop her head, saying nothing.
After a long while, still nestled in his arms, she found the courage to ask, “Who do we approach?”
He made a satisfied, questioning sound. She felt it rumble through his chest, awakening other urges best left dormant.
“To glean an invitation to Lord Granby’s house, who do we approach?”
“Oh.” Reluctantly, he drew away. Gently, he rubbed one thumb beneath the swollen flesh of her eye, lingering on the curve of her cheek. He smiled at her, a secret shared between them. “We approach his daughter.”
She should have guessed.
Chapter Fourteen
In the bookstore, Adam leaned closer, his breath stirring the hairs at Lily’s nape. Gooseflesh chased down her spine. She fought a shiver. His warm body bracketed hers, trapping her against the bookshelf in front of her. It was a thrilling sort of entrapment, the kind she had loved that short week they’d been married in the conventional sense.
“There she is.”
Reminded of the moment, Lily glanced to her left, following the jerk of his chin toward a small woman she’d never met. Lily often considered herself plain with her freckles and brown hair, but this woman seemed to pale in comparison. Her skin was free of blemishes, complemented by hair that was neither blond nor brown, a chin too short to be dainty and a nose too long, and a wide, stubborn mouth turned down at the corners as she juggled an armful of books. The young woman personified the bookish scholar—with her flyaway hair, haphazardly perched spectacles, and smutch of ink along one cheekbone—far better than Lily ever could.
The notion that she could exert influence over a peer of the realm was baffling. “Are you certain?”
Adam raised his eyebrows. “While you were drowning yourself in Egyptian texts, I was searching for information about Lord Granby. He is happily married, I’ll have you know. His wife seeks out no lovers, either. They have but one daughter, and there she is, standing in front of you.”
Lily frowned. An intimacy with jewels and a youth spent on the fringes of polite society had granted her an uncanny ability to discern wealth at a distance. This woman bore none of the marks, save for the impressive pile of books in her arms and her spectacles. Her dress was a plain steel blue, a bit too short and displaying her shift and serviceable boots. She wore no jewelry and didn’t have the bearing of the haughty lady. In fact, she had the bearing of a timid rabbit.
Frankly, Lily wished she didn’t have to mislead the poor girl. “Are you certain we ought to do this?”
Adam leaned against the bookshelf in front of her, the picture of self-assurance. The way he held himself drew her attention like a magnet. His shoulders filled out his jacket to distraction. She fought the urge to lick her lips, altogether too aware of the muscle he kept hidden beneath that cloth. Since the afternoon in the study when her barriers and ill will had crumbled, he’d made a habit of standing near her. Yes, he was her husband. And yes, she craved him, desperately. Yet, she’d managed to keep from inviting him past their adjoining door.
He’d made no overtures, either.
“Are you still set on stealing the artifact?”
Lily nodded without hesitation. Despite the nightmares keeping her from sleep, she’d reconciled herself to the risks. Her only hope of saving her family was to follow through with the promise she’d made.
“Then yes, we must do this. I promise you, we will receive an invitation within the week. Shall we?”
Lily nodded. As she pursued Lord Granby’s daughter toward the front desk, Adam laid his palm on the small of her back. His warm hand branded her in ways she dared not speak aloud. His touch spurred her forward.
“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Cabot. I’m certain I had more than this…” Worry pinching her expression, the young woman upended her reticule over the pile of books she no longer had the pin money to purchase.
Lily and Adam had arranged for that deficit through the use of a swift-fingered street boy. Watching the dismay on the bluestocking’s face, Lily fought to keep from wincing. Adam trailed his hand up her spine to splay it between her shoulder blades. A reminder.
We must begin by leaving her ingratiated.
Adam was the expert, even if she didn’t agree with his methods.
The burly shopkeeper waved a hand. “Oh, think nothing of it, Miss Granby. You frequent the shop every week and your esteemed father is another of my good patrons.”
No. Their careful scheme couldn’t be for nothing! Swiftly, Lily stepped in and donned her role, leaving Adam a step behind her. She glanced at the stack of books, recognizing one of the names. “Oh, is that the newest by Godwin? I haven’t had a chance to read it yet. Have you heard how it compares to his older works?”
Ask a simple question. When she answers, she will feel superior and relax around you.
Miss Granby pursed her lips and tilted her head so her hair hung across one cheek. “I haven’t had the opportunity to read it, either. I very much enjoyed Things as They Are and his biography of his late wife.”
“Oh, did you? I’ve only read St. Leon. Would you say Things as They Are is as well written?” Lily had read neither of the books herself, but she was certain she’d seen them in her sister’s hand a time or two. She had to capture the young woman’s interest somehow; elsewise Miss Granby could walk out of the bookshop without a second glance.
The young woman’s eyes lit up behind her spectacles. “Oh, I think it’s far better. It’s true that his ability from writing Things lent him a greater arsenal of tools to use when writing St. Leon, and I do love Marguerite’s spirit. However, a book so labored in the trappings of gambling and wealth doesn’t hold near as much interest for me as the dangers of power as described in Things as They Are.” She sighed, trailing her finger along the spine of the Godwin book. “I doubt he’ll be able to outdo that book in my eyes, but I’ll be making time to read this one as soon as may be.”
“Is that your only copy?” Lily asked the bookseller.
The lines around the man’s eyes deepened in sympathy. “If you didn’t find it on the shelf, I’m afraid it must be.”
Lily pouted, trying to imagine how Sophie would feel if denied a book she wanted. Though Sophie, unlike Miss Granby, would be reading it thanks to the circulating library, rather than owning the book herself. She had been devastated, though she hadn’t protested, when Lily had sold the books in the house in good condition.
Thrusting a calling card into the young woman’s hand, she said, “When you’re through with it, I hope you’ll write to me and tell me how it is. Without giving away the ending, of course.”
Miss Granby took the card and slipped it into her reticule.
“Of course.”
When Adam laid his hand on the small of her back, Lily’s breath hitched. Without turning around, she knew precisely where he stood behind her, his heat enveloping her left side. “Did you find the book you were looking for, darling?”
This was a part of the plan. However, when they’d rehearsed it, it hadn’t felt so intimate.
She forced a quavering smile as she craned her neck to meet his gaze. “I’m afraid Mr. Cabot here has sold out of copies. Or he will have— I believe Miss…” She let the address hang in the air between them.
“Matilda Granby.”
“Miss Granby is about to purchase the only copy.” Lily frowned. “Or did I hear you were short on money?”
The young woman bristled, for the first time showing some flecks of her aristocratic heritage. “My family has enough to cover the cost, of course. I’m the daughter of Lord Granby.”
“Let’s not put him through the trouble, shall we? Any woman with such good taste in literature should be free to indulge it without asking her father. Allow me.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the shillings needed to purchase the books. “I trust this is enough?” he asked the bookseller.
The man counted out the shillings and nodded. “Just enough, sir.”
Lily had to wonder if the shopkeeper was lying. She hadn’t heard the tally before she’d approached.
Adam didn’t look concerned. “There you are, then.”
Miss Granby gaped. “No, I cannot let you…”
He waved his hand. “It’s already done. It was so lovely to meet you, Miss Granby.” He bowed over her hand, raising it to his lips. A blush teased at her cheekbones.
Miss Granby was every bit as susceptible to Adam’s charms as everyone else. Lily buried an unruly surge of jealousy.
“Mr. Darling, at your service. This is my wife, Lily.”
Lily inclined her head. “So good to meet you.” She leaned forward, dusting her hands over the young woman’s sleeve and lowering her voice. “You will write to me telling me of the book, won’t you?”
The Price of Temptation Page 17