by Heather Boyd
“I still don’t understand how you were never spoken of. London is full of gossips and I never heard a word about your presence there.”
“Perhaps the people who saw me don’t gossip.”
Giles had to include his own self in that number. He hadn’t told a soul that he was seeing what he believed at the time to be a ghost. They might have thought him mad. But wonders would never cease—a secret could actually be kept in London.
“What of your mother?” he asked carefully. “What does she think of your travels over the country?”
He remembered what Lord Winter had said, but it had to be hard on the girl. She must miss her mother dreadfully.
Lilly set her spoon down. “I don’t know my mother, Giles. I have not seen her since the accident. But that is no great change from when I was growing up. She did not feature heavily in my childhood,” Lilly assured him. “I would rather not alert her to my improvement, if possible. She is not overly fond of me. Please don’t write to her.”
Giles tensed at her request. Somehow, Lilly was aware of her mother’s preference that she not live after the accident. An appalling spike of rage thundered through him. No wonder Lord Winter had kept them apart.
Her light touch ghosted over his clenched fist, and he made an effort to calm himself. Giles turned to look at the innocent creature at his side and tried to smile, though he knew it would be a forced effort and not completely believable.
Giles’ mouth trembled with the need to reassure her that, here at Cottingstone Manor, no one would wish her ill. For goodness sake, his entire staff had been standing on their heads to secure her comfort and happiness. Just consider his overdressed servants for instance. Giles knew they hated those uniforms and he hadn’t asked them to wear them. Nevertheless, he was sure they had done it solely for Lilly’s benefit.
Lilly squeezed the back of his hand. “It is all right, Giles. I have had a few years to get used to the notion. I hardly think of her anymore.”
“That still does not make it right though, does it?”
Lilly pried his fingers apart and took a firm grip on his hand. Giles’ heart pound in response.
“Of course it is not right, but it is what I have to deal with. None of us gets to choose our family, do we?”
Giles shook his head as he thought of the easy life he had led. His sister possessed the disposition of a screeching harpy, but she was as much trouble as an insect bite in comparison to the Winters. “Only one time,” he muttered unwisely, as an appalling thought slammed into his head.
Luckily, Lilly didn’t ask what he meant. There was one occasion when it was possible to choose your family. All Giles’ inner barriers slammed into place and hid behind years of entrenched opinion, hiding like mice from a hungry cat. Giles loosened his hold on Lilly’s hand and finished his glass of wine. Marriage was the only opportunity Lilly would have to choose a new family.
Mother had claimed Lilly would have made a fine Wexham.
Lilly stood to leave the table and, instead of letting her go alone, they adjourned to the quiet of the library. Attended by two footmen and the silly maids, Giles regained his sense of humor. Servant chaperones, how quaint and ineffective. If he had wanted to sin, he had ample opportunities to run his hands into Lilly’s hills and valleys each night as he massaged her.
At night, Giles could smell her scent quite clearly as his hands pressed into her derriere to relieve the day’s built-up tension. He tried not to watch too closely, but he slipped at least once per night and glimpsed blonde curls and pale, pink flesh. That pink flesh was beginning to keep him erect at a near record length.
Giles snapped up a deck of cards as a distraction from his wicked thoughts and taught Lilly the rudiments of Vingt-et-un. As he had gathered, she had only limited experience with a deck, and they spoke about the other games popular in London. He considered playing a hand, but then Lilly covered her mouth and yawned.
“You should have mentioned you were tired, Lilly. We can play tomorrow if you wish. Let’s get you up to bed before you fall asleep here.”
“It is a nice room,” she murmured as he drew her to her feet. The lemon scent tugged at his senses and inflamed his body. He hoped she didn’t notice he walked with an odd hitch to his step.
At the bottom of the stairs, he swung her into his arms despite her protests. “Shh, little ghost. Let me take care of you.”
Lilly held his gaze a moment then twined her arm around his neck. Giles’ cravat grew tight. Her fingertips brushed into the bottom of his hair and excitement raced down his spine. Those fingertips of Lilly’s had a lot of seductive power for such an innocent.
He glanced at her snuggled in his arms and fought for breath. Her mouth curved upwards in a contented smile, and Giles was mesmerized by the lush curve of her lower lip. His heart beat double-time as her eyes blinked up at him, and he glimpsed what he feared might be desire curling in their grey depths.
If Giles wanted to, he could take her to his bed tonight. A virgin. The horror of that thought didn’t diminish his desire. But sharing a bed with a virgin had never been a responsibility he wanted.
Lowering Lilly to her feet at her doorway, he took her pale hand in his. Tiny and delicate. Giles pressed his lips to her knuckles without breaking eye contact. Lilly's lips parted on a sigh.
He stopped himself from continuing the kiss with an inward snarl. He might be one of London’s wickedest rogues, but he did not debauch virgins. He would not ruin Lilly’s life by hurting her when the affair ended.
~ * ~
The night was still and the only sounds were the creak of the bed ropes and the brush of harsh breath against Lilly’s skin. She was in absolute bliss. Giles’ magic hands kneaded into her neck and scalp, giving her gooseflesh. He rubbed into her shoulders and she had to fight back a moan. When his hands settled in to knead her bottom and thighs, a quiver raced between her legs.
Lilly did not understand why she enjoyed Giles’ touch the way she did, but she didn’t want it to end. Giles Wexham was the most caring person she knew. She could never get enough of his touch or his attention. When his hands found her toes and tickled, Lilly pulled her foot out of his grip.
The next thing Lilly heard was a ragged groan before the door to her room opened and crashed shut. When she raised her head, Giles had gone.
Lilly sat up against the headboard, wondering what she had done. It was clearly something Giles did not like. She bit her lip and waited, hoping he would come back and explain his sudden departure. Lilly struggled into her nightgown, then blew out the candle. Wrapping a shawl about her shoulders, she curled onto the bed, eager to rid herself of a new discomfort. She ached, but not in any place she expected. What had she done?
The darkness held no answers. Lilly rubbed her neck where Giles’ hands had been minutes before. She liked his touch far too much. Lilly had not been so muddle-headed that she could mistake that sound Giles made just before he left her. He groaned when he had sex. She wished she knew what to do.
Fucking. She thought that was what people called it. Someone had once whispered shocking words into her ear in the early years of her illness. Glad, coarse words, rejoicing at her invalid state. At the time, she had not understood what the sneering voice had suggested, that she would never be woman enough for a man. That voice might have been right.
Lilly ran her hand down her chest and brushed her fingertips over her nipples. They were painfully hard and she gasped at the sensation. But that was not the only place that pulsed. Her hand slid down her belly, parting her knees, and brushed over the curls at the junction of her thighs. The pain was lower.
Hesitantly, Lilly slid her fingers between her legs and her body quaked at the sensation. Her nightgown dampened between her fingers and her skin. She snatched her hand back.
Lilly wished she had someone to confide in, but she’d never had a close friendship and the housekeeper appeared too scatterbrained to risk asking awkward questions.
The only person she
could turn to was Giles, but he was the entire problem. Before she had met him properly, she had never had these feelings. Her body had only given her pain. This was painful too, but the difference was distinct. Was there something Lilly could do to ease the yearning her body shook with every time Giles touched her?
These strange feelings were only growing, gathering strength the longer she knew him. Lilly wrapped her arms tightly about her chest to ward off the chill that threatened to reach her heart. He deserved better.
Giles was the first person to befriend her. He was kind and caring. These massages at night had finally brought her relief from the pain of her injuries that countless doctors could not. She was so grateful for his attentions, but they couldn’t continue this way.
She could now see a future unfolding ahead of her, but how it played out was hazy. Her life, as ever, would depend on her father's decree. Despite his promises, he might decide to take her back to Dumas. Lilly shuddered and wondered if it was possible to fall asleep while in the same house as her mother ever again.
She had her doubts.
Chapter Twelve
THE DAY SPENT apart from Lilly had dragged. Giles discreetly watched her reclining on the chaise lounge, drinking in the sunshine of a lovely day, but knew he could not avoid her any longer. The time for truth had come.
From his position just inside the doorway, he let his eyes skim over the creamy expanse of her skin above the blue day gown that twisted about her body.
He liked her body too well. When he ran his hands over her legs at night, he yearned for her fine skin wrapped around his bare hips. He longed to take that fatal step and become her first lover.
Yet when her legs had parted wider last night— an innocent response to his tickling— his breath had lodged in his throat. He barely caught himself in time as he leaned forward to inhale the scent of her arousal, halting his intention to spread her legs wide and taste her.
Now in the cold light of day, he berated himself for his lack of control and his stupidity in spending too much time in her company outside the hour needed to soothe her pain away. Today, he needed to explain a few simple truths about how young women had to behave in society, what society expected of them, and the care she must take with her reputation.
Giles had to make her understand and put some distance between them. Well, perhaps not understand the whole of it. He would not tell her exactly how well her body excited his, for instance. That would only complicate matters.
Once his hands touched her skin, Giles lost the ability to think and his world narrowed to the flesh under his fingertips. Lilly appeared to be his ultimate temptation and a direct path into the warmest corner of hell.
He would explain matters then leave, just as soon as her father returned from Wales. She didn’t deserve to have an unrepentant hedonist like him lusting after her. He would return to London and quench the thirst that raged through him with as many willing women as he could find. Anything to remove innocent Lilly from his mind.
Resolved, Giles stepped through the doorway and Lilly’s face turned in his direction. Although he’d like to believe the sun triggered the response, he could swear that his heart stopped beating for a full minute.
Giles stopped at her side and his fingers closed over her shoulder. He squeezed. The soft silk of her skin burned his fingers and he itched to steal his hand down into the bodice of her gown to touch those full orbs. He had not meant to touch her at all, but as usual he could not seem to help himself.
“Good afternoon, Giles.”
“Good afternoon, Miss Winter. I hope you have had a pleasant day,” he replied formally, as well as he may have done with any young lady in London.
He needed to change every mode of address given to her. After this conversation, Giles would watch his words more carefully and do more to behave like a real gentleman. Once his friends heard about this, if he could bear to confess his part in the situation, they would howl with laughter.
“Yes, thank you.” Lilly’s smile faltered. “Mrs. Osprey has been very good company, but I fear I have taken up far too much of your servant’s time. She must have other duties to attend to.”
“Her time is better served by being a companion to you.”
“I am used to being alone, Giles. I do not need to be entertained as a child might,” Lilly reminded him.
“No, you are not a child, and I do realize that far too well.” Giles had the opening he needed, but for the first time today, he feared he lacked the resolve to do this. “And that is why I want you to listen carefully to what I have to say.”
Lilly’s smile faded at his announcement, but she nodded for him to continue. Perhaps this would be more awkward than he had first thought. He slid into the adjacent chair and prayed he had not made too great an impact on her affections.
“Up until your arrival here last week, I was under the impression that you had died from the injuries of your accident.” He paused a moment to gauge her reactions, but he could see no shock. “Do you understand me? All those times our paths crossed in London, I assumed I was seeing a ghost.”
“I guessed as much.”
“You never spoke a word aloud, and no one ever saw you but me. You have to believe me when I tell you that if I had known you were real, I would not have let you remain to see the activities I was engaged in.”
Lilly’s head dropped so low he could not decide what her reaction was. He leaned forward in his chair and she pulled back. Well, at least he had a reaction of sorts.
“As you know, I lead a less than conventional life, and enjoy every minute of it. Seeing you as you were and allowing you to see me in those embraces was a gross failure on my part. Your father, if and when he learns, would be well within his rights to call me out or shoot me immediately. I wouldn’t blame him. You should not have been roaming around the halls alone in your nightgown. Where was your nurse?”
“She had gone. I was looking for Papa,” Lilly whispered. “I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“Miss Winter, gently-bred young women should not be alone with men such as me. You do realize that, don’t you?” He waited for her to nod, but she never moved and he was forced to go on.
“You cannot be left alone with me any longer. I am not to be trusted. If you had even the smallest inkling of the thoughts swirling through my head on most occasions you would run screaming. Do not trust me or ever consider me safe. I don’t have women as friends, Miss Winter. I enjoy them until they scream. You would do well to distance yourself from me.” Giles stated it harshly, perhaps cruelly, but she needed to understand him clearly, once and for all.
“I know what you do with women, Giles. I have seen evidence enough of that, haven’t I?” She turned her face away.
“As I said, that was a grave mistake on my part.”
Lilly tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and her hand trembled. His heart squeezed at the pain he inflicted, but he had no choice. Lilly had to be protected from him.
“I thought you had made an exception and decided to befriend me, but in truth I could not even raise your interest in that. Despite what you intended, I thought I was your friend. You were mine,” she returned, steel lacing her tone.
Lilly stood, then laid a hand on his shoulder. She squeezed, just as he had done to her moments ago. Her scent wrapped around him, clogging his reasoning and threatening to unman him. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her legs and pull her body into his. His decision to give up his association with Lilly troubled him and he desperately wanted to take the cold words back.
But it was best for Lilly.
When she walked away without another word or backwards glance, Giles’ chest grew tight. He wanted to call out to her, and tell her they would always be friends. But then what? Giles didn’t know what to do with a woman other than to lay her flat on her back and give her pleasure. Lilly was better off without his kind of friendship.
Giles ordered himself to believe that and prayed he could make the li
e true.
~ * ~
Lilly returned to her room in dejection, letting the door slam shut behind her. The heavy thud was a death knell for the small hopes she hadn’t realized she’d nurtured. She locked the door too, determined to hide from the bleakness of life beyond the pretty walls. But the room’s sunny aspect cut through her control like a hot knife through butter.
She was not a woman. Not really. Giles had no real interest in her and could not even be bothered to pretend about it any longer. Moving to the foot of the bed, Lilly gripped the bedpost and held on as a painful sob escaped her. She couldn’t breathe; her chest tightened tremendously.
Those mocking voices had been right all along. She was no good for anything at all in this life. Not even the most pleasure-obsessed rogue could be bothered to befriend her.
Without him explaining in so many words, Lilly knew deep down how it would go. The little woman, Mrs. Osprey, would become her only company until her papa returned.
And then what?
Would Papa drag her away to yet another house and perhaps leave her there too? Perhaps he planned to see Lilly compromise herself and finally be free of his responsibility. He might have thought that Giles, a rogue with the wickedest reputation, would be keen enough for the dubious honor.
Lilly would like to think well of her papa, but he had left her alone with one of London’s foremost pleasure-seekers. A man who would whisk away a beautiful woman if she so much as arched a brow at him.
She sat down, not on the bed but on the window seat, and gazed out at the small figures scurrying around the garden. At least they had friends, family, someone to turn to and ask questions.
Now she had no one. Another sob burst free. Furiously, Lilly wiped the tears away, tucked her heels up beneath her, and wrapped her arms around her knees to stop her shaking. When she laid her cheek on top, hot tears poured free beyond her power to control them.