by Lauren Royal
“When you’re tiny, even little spaces feel large.” Her grin widened, but she looked awkward, tracing the scars on the back of her hand as though she didn’t quite know what to do with herself.
“Come and sit by me,” he said, drawing her down beside him on the pallet. She tucked her legs beneath her, her movements graceful as a swan.
Lady Trentingham had neglected to supply any tableware, so he broke an apple slice in two and fed half to Lily, enjoying the way her eyes widened as his fingers brushed her mouth. “It sounds as though you had a happy childhood here at Trentingham.”
“I did.” She swallowed, concern darkening her eyes. “Was there no happiness in your childhood at all?”
“Oh, yes, until I was six. Then my mother died and my father changed. Or maybe he’d been that way all along, but I hadn’t noticed. Mother had always been there for me, perhaps taking my part…I was young…I don’t remember.” He shook his head. “I remember only how it felt after she was gone.”
“Lonely,” Lily said softly.
He nodded, thinking that loneliness was a feeling he’d carried with him for far too long. But now, with her, it was gone. “I don’t feel lonely now.”
Her smile was a little bit sad. “Do you never see them, then?” she asked. “Your father and your brother? Or hear from them? Ever?”
“Not in the last eight years.” He’d thought that if he forgot about them the anger would disappear, but there were others at Hawkridge he’d done an all-too-good job of ignoring as well. Like his endearing foster sister, who had followed him around with hero worship in her eyes. “But my father has a ward, a girl named Margery Maybanks who was brought to our home as an infant. She writes to me sometimes.”
Not nearly often enough, and he missed her. Of course, that was his fault. Reading news of his family made ripples in the nice calm life he’d made for himself—so much so that he often went months before answering Margery’s letters.
“Does she tell them about you, then? Does your father know you’re now a professor?”
“Oh, he knows. According to Margery, he said that just went to prove I never belonged in his privileged world.”
Her heart leapt into her eyes. “I cannot imagine what it would be like if my parents weren’t proud of my accomplishments. And my sisters and brother, too. That’s what family is all about, why we need them around us.”
“I’ve done all right without family.”
“Because you didn’t have one,” she said stoutly. “But you will now.”
Rand’s throat seemed to tighten. Her support meant the world to him. Although he’d decided long ago that his father and brother could go to the devil, he’d never realized how important it was to have someone who cared.
Lily crumbled some bread for the bird and the squirrel and broke up some cheese for the cat. “I thought you’d be deathly ill today. I was certain you’d send your regrets, and here you are, all recovered it seems.”
“I’m surprised I fell ill at all. You’ll find I’m of a strong constitution—perhaps it’s all the running.”
Rand watched warily as the animals came closer to claim their portions. When Beatrix climbed right over him, Lily laughed.
“How is Rose doing?” he asked, pouring more champagne. He dropped a strawberry into Lily’s. Watching the drink fizz, he remembered the first time he’d tried this new beverage, at Ford and Violet’s wedding.
Lily sobered and took a big gulp of the bubbly wine. “Rose is very angry with me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Violet told Ford you’d never consent to wed me, for fear of hurting your sister.” He raised his goblet in a toast. “I’m glad she was wrong.”
They drank, solemnly, gazing at each other over the goblets’ rims—and Rand’s heart seemed to swell with unaccustomed emotion. Setting down both their goblets, he gathered Lily into his arms.
She surprised him by pressing her lips to his in a kiss both sweet and seductive. He wondered if he’d ever get used to her coming to him for kisses. His heart melted as he kissed her back, thanking the Fates for sending her to him.
Rain pattered on the roof far above. “I love you,” she said quietly.
“I know,” he returned, his voice filled with husky wonder. Until now, he’d never realized that love could make him whole. Never realized a part of him had been missing.
She filled that gap, making him complete. And now he wanted to show her how very grateful he was that she’d come into his life to make that incredible difference.
He shrugged out of his surcoat before easing her back on the pallet, snuggling his body over hers. When he kissed her again, she released a blissful sigh. He kissed her mouth and her forehead and her throat, trailing his lips over her soft, fragrant skin. The scent of lilies. For the past few weeks, just a whiff of that scent had sent his pulse to racing, and now he could hardly fathom that he was here all alone in a summerhouse with his sweet Lily.
Well, nearly alone. Midkiss, he cracked open an eye to find three creatures watching. As though daring him, Lady pecked at more bread and then took flight, landing right on his head.
He jerked up, breaking the kiss and sending the bird fluttering to a bench. “Do you think we could put them outside?”
“Hmm?” Lily’s lids fluttered open, the blue of her eyes hazy, dreamy.
“Your animals.” He swept them with an uneasy glance. “Could we just…lock them outside for a while?”
She blinked. “It’s raining. They’ll get wet.”
“They’re animals, for heaven’s sake. So what if they get wet?” But she looked determined, so he added, “Never mind.”
Maybe if he closed his eyes he could ignore the fact that they were there. He did that and went back to kissing Lily. She felt so warm against him, and so soft, her curves melding to his body, her mouth tasting so right. He wished he could kiss her forever.
Or at least his head wished he could kiss her forever. Other parts were telling him that would never be enough.
“When shall we be married?” he asked the next time he came up for air.
Looking flushed and a little bit flustered, Lily levered herself back to a sitting position. “Violet and Ford were wed two weeks after they became betrothed, and—”
“Two weeks?” Still lying on his side, Rand leaned up on an elbow. He propped his head on one hand and reached to play with a lock of her hair. “It won’t be easy, but I suppose I can survive that long.”
“That long? Mum has been complaining about that rushed wedding ever since. She wishes to make a proper job of it this time. Six months, she said—”
“Six months! I cannot wait six months.”
She smiled. “Neither can I. That is why I talked her into six weeks.”
“Oh. I suppose six weeks is survivable.”
“It will pass quickly enough. I’ll be busy with wedding plans, and you with your house. We’ll be married before Michaelmas term starts in mid-October. And I hope that in the meantime Rose will come around…”
Her voice trailed off sadly.
“You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”
She took a minute to answer, a minute during which he held his breath. “No,” she said at last. “Not really.”
The words had come too slowly, too reluctantly. Rand’s heart hitched. “Lily—”
“I’m not having second thoughts,” she repeated and then launched herself at him, knocking him back to the pallet as she crushed her mouth to his.
He kissed her and laughed, sheer joy mixed with relief. But something inside him had shifted. All at once, even more than he wanted to show her how grateful he was that she’d come into his life, he wanted to make her his. Permanently.
Six weeks suddenly seemed a long, long time.
With a wistful sigh, he pulled away before things could go any further. Lily’s little sound of frustrated disappointment matched his own feelings all too well. He sat and reached for another strawberry. “Does she always hiccup
so much?” he asked, indicating the cat.
“No. Or at least she didn’t used to. It’s odd the way she’s been doing that lately.” She pulled off her shoes and reached beneath her skirts to untie a garter.
Rand blinked. “What are you doing?”
She rolled down a stocking. “Do you usually wear shoes to picnic?”
“I don’t usually picnic,” he said dryly. He’d allowed little time for idleness in his life. As her other stocking came off, he swallowed hard. “You’re not going to take anything else off, are you?”
“No,” she said quickly; then her eyes glittered. “Unless you want me to.”
Oh, he wanted her to, all right. He forced a laugh. “Your mother shouldn’t have left us here alone.”
“Perhaps not.” She looked down, then raised her lashes slowly, revealing a steadfast blue gaze that pierced him to his soul. “But I’m glad for it,” she added in a breathy whisper.
Rand was finding it hard to breathe. He sipped more champagne and watched her stretch her bare feet out before her, fluffing her skirts over her legs and allowing him a glimpse of slim ankles.
Her actions were innocent, he was sure. But innocently seductive.
She wiggled her pretty toes. “Oh, that feels so much better.” Leaning forward, she smiled. “Let me help you with your boots.”
Not sure he could stand her help, he tugged them off before she had a chance. She smiled knowingly, as though she were aware of her own allure and his resulting discomfort.
Maybe Lily wasn’t as innocent as he’d thought.
“Have a nun’s biscuit,” she said. “They’re my favorites.” She handed him one of the round treats. “You look hungry.”
He was, but not for almonds and lemon. A nun’s biscuit, of all things. Just what he needed: a vision of chaste nuns while the woman he loved was tempting him to sin.
He bit into the sweet, crisp biscuit, then tensed when she reached to wipe stray crumbs from his mouth before replacing her fingers with her lips.
Lily’s mouth was sweeter than any biscuit he’d ever tasted. It was all he could do to keep from tearing her gown off then and there. As it was, he found himself drawing her down to the pallet again.
Or maybe she drew him down. He wasn’t sure. And lost in the moment, in the pleasure of her mouth on his, he didn’t care. For several long, heady minutes, his world was he and Lily and the incredible wonder of two people made for each other.
Until he felt sandpaper rubbing his toes. “What the devil—”
She laughed, a sound of pure merriment that drowned out the rain. “Beatrix, stop licking Rand’s feet.” Leaning on an elbow, she held up a bite of cheese, and the cat wandered over to take it with its delicate pink tongue.
At least it looked delicate. “I thought it would feel wet,” he said. “And soft.”
“Has a cat never licked you?” Lily laughed again. “Beatrix seemed to find you so delicious, I’m tempted to taste your toes myself.”
That would be his undoing. Just imagining that scenario made the aforementioned toes—and other parts of him—prickle with awareness.
He sat up and shoved the rest of the nun’s biscuit into his mouth, and then, for good measure, began humming a distracting tune.
Only it wasn’t nearly distracting enough.
TWENTY-NINE
LILY SMILED to herself. That song again. She’d almost worked out how to play it, and she looked forward to the surprise.
But not right now. Now she only wanted more kisses.
Rain beat on the roof above, blending with the tune that wafted from Rand’s throat. The sounds combined to create a rhythm that went right through her, mirroring the excitement that thrummed through her body.
Despite the wetness outside, the summerhouse was warm and snug. Candles flickered all around them like stars, seemingly working magic. Although, in all honesty, she wasn’t sure whether this cozy wonderland was Rand’s doing or her mother’s, the romantic ambience worked on her all the same.
Or maybe it was just Rand. Ever since he’d first touched her, she’d burned for more. For everything. For weeks she’d denied it, but now they were going to be wed.
Everything had happened so fast. Only yesterday she’d thought of Rand as Rose’s, but now, miraculously, he was hers. And she wanted him with a fierceness she’d never even imagined. A fierceness that completely took her by surprise.
Six weeks. It seemed like forever. She moved closer again and pressed her lips to his.
The humming stopped. “Oh, Lily,” Rand said, but his words sounded more like a groan. She worried for a moment that he was angry, but he didn’t seem angry. He didn’t push her away. Instead, he curved a hand around the nape of her neck and deepened the kiss.
The lips that had been soft and gentle earlier were urgent now, more fervent. He kissed her until she felt breathless, senseless, his mouth trailing down to play in the sensitive hollow of her throat.
His lips felt so good against her skin. His tongue drew warm circles on her flesh, moving lower, delving closer to the cleavage revealed by her low neckline. Her heart raced faster as new sensations rippled through her, not only where his mouth teased her, but other places, too. An ache was building inside her, a most strange and wondrous feeling.
Wishing to make him feel the same way, she reached to unknot his white cravat.
Rand lifted his head. “You cannot do that,” he murmured.
The lace-edged fabric came untied, and she began drawing it from his neck. “I want to do to you the same thing you’re doing to me. I want to make you feel—”
“You cannot.”
She stopped, stunned by the vehemence of his words, the steely gray of his eyes. “Why?” she breathed.
“Because if you do,” he said very slowly, “I fear I may not be able to keep from doing more.”
Was that all? She smiled as the cravat slid free.
“Lily—”
“Rand.” Her mouth feeling suddenly dry, she licked her lips. Her heart pounded so loudly she feared he could hear it above the rain and her own harsh breathing. Rising to her knees to face him, she caught his silvery gaze. “I want you to do more. I want you,” she clarified, echoing his words from weeks earlier.
Now she really knew what he’d meant.
His smile looked painfully forced. “You’re going to have me. We’re going to have each other. In six weeks.”
“I want you now.” As her fingers went to loosen the lacing at his neck, she watched his eyes widen in shock. She’d never felt like this before—like a wanton, truth be told. And she was every bit as shocked as he—shocked not only at her boldness, but at the desire that raged through her, sweeping clear her resistance and all her inhibitions. She’d never imagined feeling free enough to offer herself to a man.
But then, she’d never before been in love.
He just stared, dumbfounded, while she opened the placket of his shirt and put her mouth to his skin as he had to hers, tasting him, faintly salty and musky, a heady flavor that was his alone.
“Lily.” He raised her face and touched a finger to her chin, looking wistful. When Jasper hopped from the bench to the pallet, his bushy red tail flicking up and down, Rand swallowed hard, then sighed. “Even your menagerie disapproves.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“You’re truly bent on seducing me, aren’t you? No matter what your animals think.”
“They’re not thinking, Rand. They’re just watching.”
She felt a shudder run through him. “I don’t like it.”
Under other circumstances, she might have laughed. “The animals watching?”
“Yes.” He gave her a light kiss before his face set in determined lines. “Your parents wouldn’t like it, either.”
“The animals watching?” she repeated, nonplussed.
“Yes. I mean, no.” He looked deliciously flustered. “I mean they wouldn’t like this.” He yanked her against him and kissed her agai
n, hard.
She let herself slide into the demanding caress. He plundered her mouth, tasting of strawberries and champagne and Rand. When at last he let her go, she found herself trembling with ill-contained desire.
“My parents kiss all the time,” she informed him shakily. “They would certainly like it. As a matter of fact, Mum told all us girls we should make sure to kiss a man before we marry him. To ascertain we’re well matched in that area. And she’s an accomplished matchmaker, so I’m sure she knows of what she speaks.”
Despite everything, Rand’s lips quirked in a half smile. “It isn’t the kissing they wouldn’t approve. It’s what it will lead to should you insist on going any further. Your parents certainly wouldn’t like that.”
He quite obviously didn’t know her parents.
“Violet was born seven months after they wed. And she wasn’t a particularly undersized baby.”
His forehead furrowed in confusion. “What?”
“They didn’t wait, Rand. And I don’t see why we should, either.” She watched his jaw drop open as she continued. “We’ll be married in six weeks…but I want you now.”
He shut his eyes momentarily. “If you say that enough times, I’ll begin to believe you.”
“How many times?” she wondered. “Will five or six more do? A dozen? I want you now, I want you now, I want—”
He silenced her with another kiss, a kiss so fierce she wondered if perhaps he’d given in. But when he drew back, he gazed at her, gauging her—and also gauging his own power to resist, she guessed.
Then slowly his fingers moved to unfasten her stomacher, and her heart soared. She’d won. She wanted this. She burned for him.
And besides all that, if they made love now, then later, on her wedding night, she wouldn’t have to worry about—
“Are you certain?” he asked, his voice low and earnest, his eyes more intense than ever, his fingers fumbling on the stomacher’s tabs. He glanced down, then dropped his hands. “I’m undressing you, and you’re not stopping me.”
“No.” She took his hands and brought them back to the stiff, embroidered garment. “I’m not.”