One Naughty Night2

by Laurel McKee

  The audience was loud again as the ushers tried to herd them out of the theater, but she hardly heard it. She knew only Aidan. “I’ll beat you senseless if you dare die on me now,” she said as she tied off the ends of the bandage. “We aren’t nearly done yet.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” he said. Then his eyes closed, and his head slumped back on his brother’s shoulder.

  “No!” Lily cried. “No, Aidan, no…” She wrapped her arms tightly around his chest and held on to him. She couldn’t lose him, her lover, her champion, the man who showed her the beauty and fun of life. She couldn’t go on without him.

  She was only vaguely aware of being gently lifted away from him and held in Brendan’s arms as a doctor knelt beside Aidan with his black bag and stagehands brought in a stretcher. Her head felt so light, everything so hazy and cold around her. Her head pounded as if it would split open, and she shivered.

  “Lily!” she heard someone shout, just before she fainted away.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  “Aidan, wake up. You can’t lie here forever just so pretty girls can weep over you and bathe your fevered brow.”

  Aidan heard his brother’s deep voice as if it echoed down a long, dark tunnel. He struggled up from the haze of sleep, but it felt like crawling out of that tunnel into the light again. His dreams drifted farther and farther away. He pried his gritty eyes open and found himself staring up at the ceiling of his own bedchamber.

  And his whole body ached, especially his throbbing shoulder. The sunlight from the window pierced into his head, and he winced as he turned away. The pain reminded him that it wasn’t just a dream; it was real. Tom Beaumont, the theater, the knife—all of it.

  Aidan remembered Lily crumpled on the walkway, so still when Tom Beaumont pushed her down and she hit her head. He remembered the terrible grief and fury that overcame him in the instant when he was sure he had lost her. The feeling that everything was over and he had nothing to lose, nothing to live for.

  “Lily,” he growled, and pushed back the bedclothes tucked tightly around him to sit up. David held him down.

  “She’s fine,” David said in a soothing voice Aidan had never heard his brother use on humans before, only on temperamental horses. Aidan was sure then he must have been dying if David was going easy on him now.

  But Aidan shoved against his hand. “Where is she?”

  “Her brother came to fetch her, to take her home so she could pack some clothes,” David said, struggling to hold Aidan down. “Damn it, man, don’t make me tie you down! She’ll be furious if she gets back to find you out of bed when the doctor said you should rest. And I don’t want to face her temper. Your woman is a veritable Valkyrie when she’s angry.”

  “Yes, she is.” Aidan slowly sank back down onto the bed and closed his eyes. “She wasn’t hurt?”

  “Just a few bruises. She wouldn’t let the doctor look at them, though. She hasn’t been away from this bed until her brother made her leave this morning.” David sat back in his chair once he was sure Aidan would stay still, a flash of raw relief in his eyes. “She’ll be happy to see you awake. We were afraid there for a while. You were raving with fever.”

  Aidan frowned. “How long have I been here?”

  “Three days now. Mother sent a basketful of calves’-foot jelly, and I stole some of Father’s good wine when you want it. I convinced them to stay away until you’re feeling better.” David paused, tapping his calloused fingertips on the chair arm. “I thought you might want to tell them about Mrs. Nichols yourself.”

  Aidan nodded and turned his head to stare out the window. The sun was a pale yellow in a vivid blue sky. “Beaumont is dead?”

  “Quite dead. And the inquiry was a very short one. Her Majesty’s government commends you on your heroic actions.”

  “Heroic,” Aidan snorted. “I should have killed the man in the first place, not trusted in the prison to hold him. Then Lily would never have gone through this.”

  “I doubt she holds it against you in any way, considering how carefully she’s nursed you these last few days.”

  “I hold it against myself.”

  “Then you are too hard on yourself, Aidan. I never would have thought it of you. And you have a second chance now,” David said. “What will you do with it?”

  Aidan closed his eyes, and for an instant, every fear he had when he’d thought he lost Lily came back to him. “I’m going to marry Lily and take her away from here, if she’ll have me. I’m not going to lose her again.”

  David just nodded, as if the news that his brother meant to marry a St. Claire, a greengrocer’s widow, a child of the slums, was of no surprise to him at all. “Where will you go?”

  “Anywhere she wants to. Italy, maybe. Paris, Zurich. But preferably somewhere warm and beautiful.” Somewhere he could spend the rest of his life making her smile, making her forget.

  “Good luck to you, then,” David said.

  “And what will you do?”

  “Me? Go back to the country, of course. I’ve had enough of London life for a while, as adventurous as you’ve made it, Aidan.”

  Aidan opened his eyes and studied his brother’s face. A half-smile lingered on David’s lips, but his eyes were shadowed. “What of your lady from the assembly? Did you ever find her?”

  David’s smile widened. “I did. In a most unexpected place.”

  “And?”

  There was a sudden knock at the door. “Come in,” Aidan called, vowing to get more out of his brother later.

  It was Freddy Bassington, his shock of red hair bright in the dim room. He held a hamper in his hands, no doubt more invalid’s jelly. He grinned when he saw Aidan sitting up against the pillows.

  “You’re alive!” Freddy cried. He dumped the hamper on the dressing table and rushed over to shake Aidan’s hand enthusiastically.

  “Was there some doubt?” Aidan said as he extracted his hand.

  “Rumors have been flying all over town,” Freddy said. “You’re quite the on dit now.”

  “Until a new elopement or affair,” Aidan said. “Do sit down, Freddy, and quit hovering.”

  Freddy laughed and dropped onto the chair next to David’s. “I had to see for myself you were well. And to say thank you.”

  “Thanks for what?”

  “I received my letters back last week,” Freddy said. “Burned ’em all. It’s the last time I write to a lady, I promise.”

  Aidan doubted that. Freddy would be in love again next week. But Lily had returned the letters? What had changed her mind about trusting?

  They talked for a while longer, about trivial matters of gossip and mutual friends, until Aidan heard the sitting room door open and the murmur of voices. Lily hurried into the bedchamber, her glowering blond brother behind her. A bright smile lip up her face when she saw Aidan awake, and she rushed over to the bed, ignoring everyone else in the room.

  “Aidan,” she said softly. “How are you feeling? Is the fever gone?”

  Aidan smiled up at her. He had never seen anything as beautiful in his life as the soft curve of her lips as she smiled at him. “Perhaps you should kiss my brow and check for yourself. And then kiss other things and make them better too…”

  Lily laughed. “Flirting already? You must feel better.” Then she did just that, framing his face gently in her gloved hands and pressing her lips to his forehead.

  “Umm-hmm,” David coughed. “Perhaps that is our cue to leave you alone.”

  Lily twisted around to smile at him, but her smile faded when she saw Freddy sitting there staring at her. “Mr. Bassington,” she murmured.

  “M-Mrs. Nichols,” he stammered. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

  “Nor I you. I trust you received my package?” Lily said.

  “I did, yes. Th-thank you.”

  David drew Freddy and Dominic St. Claire out of the room, closing the door behind them. Aidan could hear the sound of their voices in the sitting room and the cla
tter of glasses as they drank his father’s wine, but he was alone with Lily at last. There was so very much he needed to say to her, to make her understand, make her marry him.

  But for once in his life, now when they were so very important, words failed him.

  Lily untied the ribbons of her bonnet and slowly set it aside before she glanced in Aidan’s small shaving mirror and smoothed her hair. She couldn’t stop peeking at Aidan’s reflection in the glass, trying to reassure herself that he was there, that he was alive and breathing and whole. That he had not been stolen from her.

  Those hours of sitting by his bed, listening to his nightmares, frantically trying to get him to take the medicines, bathing his fevered skin, had been torture. She had feared the bed where they had made love would be his deathbed. She had brought him to that, the man she loved, the man who had dared to go to battle for her. She had never imagined such a man as Aidan existed, so brave, so intelligent. He made her laugh, he made her think… and he was wonderful in bed. And he was her champion, her knight. He couldn’t be taken from her now.

  But here he sat, his head propped on his good arm as he watched her. She wanted to weep with sheer joy, to fall down on her knees beside his bed and hold his hand in hers and feel the living, breathing heat of him. She wanted…

  She wanted to tell him the truth, now that he was awake to hear her. That she loved him, had loved him ever since that dark, intense night at the hunting lodge. No one had ever seen her, really seen her, as he did. He understood her because they were alike, deep down in their most hidden souls. And that bound them together.

  She wanted to tell him all of that. Everything she had pushed down and concealed so tightly for so long was straining to burst free. She wanted to be free at last, and she knew that only Aidan could give her that.

  Yet something held her back. He was so very quiet, so watchful as he studied her with those summer-blue eyes she loved so much. She couldn’t read his thoughts there; he was always damnably good at that stillness that seemed to shut out everything else. Perhaps he was trying to decipher how best to tell her good-bye.

  The silence stretched out, enveloping the whole room. At last, Lily couldn’t stand it any longer. She whirled around and marched over to sit down on the edge of his bed again. If he was going to say good-bye, then she would let him get it over with.

  Then she could creep away and nurse her broken heart.

  “You gave us all quite a fright,” she said. “I know you are no stranger to brawls, Aidan, but that was quite beyond the pale.”

  He reached out his hand and just touched the edge of her skirt with his fingertips. His knuckles were scraped and bruised. “What if I promised to be very, very careful from now on?”

  “I hope that you will. I don’t think I could bear…” Her voice broke, and she squeezed her eyes shut to try and compose herself. But when she took a deep breath, all she could smell was Aidan, his spicy soap, the sweet darkness of him. “I thought you were dead, and I couldn’t go on.”

  Suddenly she felt his warm hand seize hers, and he pressed her palm to his lips. Lily’s eyes flew open to see that his own eyes were closed as he kissed her. He inhaled at the pulse point of her wrist. She laid her other hand behind his head, threading her fingers through the rough silk of his hair as she cradled him against her. So precious.

  “Marry me,” he said urgently.

  “What did you say?” she gasped. Whatever she had imagined or hoped Aidan might say to her when he woke up, that was beyond her hopes.

  “I said—no, I am begging you—please marry me. I don’t ever want to be without you, and I know that the only way to keep you from running away from me is to make you my wife.” He held her hand against his cheek, his eyes piercing into her as he looked up at her.

  Lily could only stare at him in shock. “I… you can’t marry me. What if you have to be the duke someday?”

  “Lily. I know that everything that’s happened in our time together hasn’t exactly shown you that I could be a good husband. I’ve dragged you through barrooms and brothels. I’ve gotten us both wounded. Your family hates me…”

  “You saved me!” Lily cried. “You killed Tom, you saved me and Isabel too. We never have to fear him again because of you. Surely even two blockheads like Dominic and Brendan can see that.”

  “But why would they want me for a brother-in-law? A Huntington, a lazy aristocrat?”

  She shook her head and curled her fingers around his hand as if by holding him she could make him see all that he was to her. “Aidan, you are so, so much more than all of that. You are so intelligent and creative. You are the best friend anyone could have, as I’m sure Nick and Freddy and Marie and dozens of others would agree. You understand things other people can’t, and you are strong and…”

  “And a god in bed?” he said teasingly.

  She gave a choked laugh. “Well… you are that, too, though I hesitate to feed your monstrous ego even further. And you are rich and have a title on top of everything else. You are a worthy husband to any woman. To Lady Henrietta Lindley, as your parents wish for you. You shouldn’t propose to me.”

  “Lily St. Claire, you are the only woman I would propose to,” Aidan said fiercely. “You’re the only woman for me in the world, and you would make an excellent duchess. I love you. And if you say no, I warn you I will not go away. I will haunt the theater. I will send flowers to your house every hour. I will write you terrible poetry. Freddy’s letters will be nothing compared to mine. I will not stop until—”

  Lily suddenly leaned forward and kissed him, stopping his words with her lips. He tasted of wine and medicine, and of his own delicious self that had intoxicated her since their first kiss behind the theater so long ago. She knew now that it had been him ever since then. With him, she was truly free.

  His arm closed around her waist and he fell onto his back, carrying her with him. He twisted his hand into her hair and held her still as his tongue tangled with hers, and they kissed as if it were the first time all over again.

  Lily drew back at last and rested her cheek on his chest, the smooth, warm skin bare between the lacing of his nightshirt. She could hear the steady, reassuring rhythm of his heartbeat. “I can see I’ll have to marry you, then, if only to keep you from becoming a public nuisance. And because I love you, too, of course.”

  She felt him raise his head to look down at her, his hand going still in her hair. “Do you really mean that, Lily?”

  “Yes. Yes, Aidan, I love you, and I will marry you. I’ve never known anyone like you in all my life. If you are mad enough to propose to me, then I am mad enough to say yes.”

  “Lily, Lily my darling, I promise you won’t be sorry,” Aidan said, kissing the top of her head. “I will spend the rest of my life making you happy.”

  “You make me happy just by being here.” She turned her head to kiss the pulse that beat so steadily and reassuringly at the base of his throat. “Just by being you.”

  “Then we should have a very easygoing marriage.”

  “Unlike our courtship?”

  He chuckled against her hair. “When will you marry me? Next week? I can get a special license.”

  “Not until the doctor says you can get out of bed.” Lily propped her chin on his chest and smiled up at him. “I want you to be quite hale and hearty for the wedding night.”

  He tilted his head to one side and gave a roguish grin that made her heart beat faster. “Will you get out your riding crop again?”

  “If you ask me nicely.”

  “Oh, I can ask very nicely indeed.” He slid down on the pillows and kissed her neck lightly, making her giggle. “Very, very nicely.”

  “Not until your wound is healed.”

  “You are no fun today, Lily,” Aidan groaned. He fell back to the bed as she scrambled to sit up beside him. “But soon enough you will be Lady Aidan Huntington, and we will have fun all night long.”

  “Lady Aidan?” she said. “That sounds so strange.” />
  “Then we’ll go to France, and you can be Madame Huntington. Or Italy, and be Signora Huntington. Wherever you want, whoever you want to be.”

  “I have always wanted to see Italy.” Lily sat up against the carved headboard, her hands folded in her lap. “But what will your parents think of it all?”

  Aidan gave an impolite snort. “I don’t give a damn what they think. But I do care what your family thinks. I will call on them tomorrow.”

  Lily sighed as she imagined what might happen when Aidan Huntington faced the whole St. Claire clan. “Are you sure you want to do that? Dominic has begun to come around, but Brendan and my father…”

  “They are your family, Lily. You love them, and therefore I want them to love me. Or at least tolerate me and not skewer me in the street like Romeo did to Tybalt,” he said stubbornly. “I will call on them properly.”

  “Then I think that will be the first proper thing you ever did in your life.”

  “You like me as improper as possible, Lady Aidan, admit it.”

  Lily laughed. “I do quite like it when you’re naughty, Lord Aidan. But not in my family’s drawing room. The St. Claires might be one of the most scandalous families in London, but they do have their limits. And you can call on them when the doctor says you can get up and not before.”

  “If you insist.” Aidan’s hand crept to the hem of her skirt and slowly drew it up until he could softly caress her stockinged ankle. “But if I must stay in bed, I’ll need a diversion.”

  Lily shivered at the sensation of his hand sliding over her thin stocking. Oh, how she had missed this! How she had longed for his touch when they were apart. But now it would be hers—he would be hers—every night for the rest of her life. She thought her heart might burst with too much happiness.

  She gasped as his fingertips traced over that sensitive spot just behind her knee, but she pushed his hand away and shook her skirts back into place. “Not until the wedding night.”

  Aidan groaned. “You are a cruel, cruel woman.”

  “I know.” Lily leaned over him and smiled as she gently kissed his lips. “But you like it.”