by Lydia Dare
“I have never set out to woo a woman until now. Before I met you, I just wanted to bed them.” Lily felt her heart expand.
“You don’t want to just bed me?” She felt like a ninny. But she was finally getting closer to having answers to her questions, so she wanted to take advantage of the moment.
“Oh, no,” he chuckled, his gaze sliding over her like a caress. She shivered. “I most certainly do want to bed you.”
“You know that’s not what I meant. How will I be different from any of the thousands of women you’ve been exposed with in the society rags?”
“Thousands is exaggerating just a bit, Lily.”
“Not by much.” She was finally able to yank her hand from his and stand. She stood in front of him and put her hands on her hips. “Why are you marrying me, Simon?”
Simon leaned forward and grasped her hips, pulling her to stand between his spread knees. She tried to take a step back. “No pulling away,” he said, looking into her eyes.
“Why, Simon?” she insisted.
“Because I want to protect unsuspecting yard furniture around the world from your wrath. You can simply abuse mine, and the rest of the world will be safe.” He pulled her closer, his hands snaking around her thighs to clasp just below her bottom.
“Oh, you…” she groaned. She’d never wanted to hit anyone so much in her life.
“All right,” he sighed. His hot breath stole right through her dress, he was that close. It touched her belly like a gentle rub. “One: you’re ruined. And it’s my fault. So, there’s a bit of obligation there.”
Lily felt tears choke her and tried to push them back.
He must have noticed because he said, “Wait,” and held up one finger. “That’s not all.”
Lily sniffed and swallowed hard.
“Two: you’re Oliver’s caretaker, almost a mother to him, and he’s going to live with me. So, having you live with me, too, will serve a dual purpose.”
Lily had never heard such a poor excuse for marriage. She clasped his wrists in hers and tried to pry his hands from the back of her thighs. He didn’t budge. The man had really strong arms, which infuriated her.
“Three: there’s the fact I really want to bed you,” he said quietly as he looked up at her again. He trailed slow kisses across her belly, his hands sliding up to grip her bottom through her dress.
Lily gasped and immediately felt a flip in her belly. Don’t let him distract you, Lily. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Well, of course you want to sleep with me. You want to sleep with everyone.”
“Not any more. I haven’t even thought about another woman since you walked through my door.”
Simon knew how dangerous it was to bare his soul to the woman, but he could sense she needed a bit of reassurance. Despite the fact that he truly did want to marry her, he also wanted her to be happy and feel secure in the situation. As safe as she could be with someone of his ilk.
“You haven’t thought about anyone else?” she croaked. He almost had to grin at her discomfiture.
“How could I when you’re right here, taunting me with your charms all day?” He gathered her skirts and put his hands below them, grasping the back of her thighs, pulling her closer to where he still sat on the bench.
“I don’t taunt you.”
“Oh, yes, you do.” The woman had no idea how sensual she was. He would just have to show her. “And you don’t even intend to do it, which makes me want you even more.”
“Simon, I’m almost twenty-four years old. No one has ever wanted me.”
“I want you,” he said, removing one hand from her skirts to clasp her own and bring it to press the front of his trousers. Her fingertips skittered across the fabric, testing the feel of him. He bit back a groan.
“That’s…?” she asked, a question in her voice.
“That is how much I want you.” And much, much more, he thought. “I want to be with you.” He punctuated the sentence with a kiss to her belly. “I want to be on top of you.” His hand slid beneath the legs of her drawers to knead her bottom. “And I want to be inside you.”
The scent of her arousal caught his nose, and Simon felt like he could devour her in that moment.
She broke him from his concentration when she shook his shoulder. “Simon,” she nudged. “Simon,” she whispered vehemently. “Someone is coming.”
“No. That comes later, love.”
“Simon,” she nearly shrieked, pushing his arms from beneath her dress. Or trying to. She wasn’t very successful. Thank God, she was such a little thing, he thought, or she could win by sheer strength of will.
“Simon,” his mother’s voice rang out from the edge of the garden. “I think I told you to stop treating Miss Rutledge like a harlot.”
Simon finally raised his head and looked up at Lily. “Oh, God,” he groaned, knocking his forehead gently against her belly in frustration. She smiled down at him and laid one hand on the top of his head.
“Simon,” his mother called again.
“What do you want, Mother?” he barked.
“Why, to protect Miss Rutledge’s virtue, of course. It’s amazing she has any left with you chasing her skirts all day.” The duchess motioned to Lily. “Come along, dear. We’ll leave the big, bad wolf to sort out his own misery.”
Lily extricated herself from his arms and followed his mother down the garden path. What else could possibly go wrong?
Alice Westfield linked her arm with her future daughter-in-law’s and towed her back toward the manor house. Simon would need some time to recover from his current state, which meant she could get a few uninterrupted minutes alone with Lily Rutledge. Minutes that were sorely needed.
Never, in all her years, had anyone ever considered Alice a fool, and it was in poor form that Simon did so now. He’d obviously compromised the poor girl, which was why he’d sent William on his quest for a special license. It was the honorable thing to do, after all. But did he really think he could keep her from realizing this? Alice wasn’t a fool, but Simon, apparently, was.
Lily seemed to care for Simon, which was a relief, especially considering his differences. Considering the sort of women he generally associated with, Alice had been frightened the man wouldn’t ever settle down. He had a duty to his title after all, and Alice rather thought Lily would fill the role as his duchess quite nicely.
If Simon was to have a successful marriage, he couldn’t keep one of the most important parts of himself a secret from his wife. Doing so was the fastest way to doom their relationship. She wished for the millionth time that Jonathan was still alive. He’d given their sons such excellent direction, and Simon obviously was in need of it now.
She sighed as they neared the back terrace. Men were stubborn enough creatures, but Lycans were very nearly impossible.
“Alice,” Lily’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Are you all right?”
Alice smiled at the girl. She was a sweet thing. She was certainly capable of learning the truth about Simon without running into the woods screaming like a bedlamite. At least Alice thought so. It would be best to make sure. “Indeed. I was simply thinking about you, dear.”
“Me?”
“Of course, you. Very soon, you’ll be my daughter-in-law, and if anyone understands the difficulty of dealing with a Westfield man, it’s me. I was married to one and raised three.”
Lily smiled as they climbed the steps to the terrace. “Is it more difficult than raising a York man, I wonder?”
“I believe it is much the same, dear.” Alice couldn’t help from smiling back. Oliver York was his father’s son in every way. Not only did he look like Daniel, but he’d inherited his father’s other abilities as well. She had known that instantly when she laid eyes on him the day before. With his impressive size and irritability, Oliver reminded her at once of Simon, Will, and Ben when they were his age.
It was amazing Lily had done so well with the lad all by herself. That was another reason Alice thought L
ily could handle the truth about Simon. No matter how difficult Oliver had become the night before, Lily’s love for the child had never wavered.
She led Lily to a set of table and chairs in the far corner of the terrace. From that position, she could see the grounds and know when Simon was near. Not that she could keep him from overhearing them. She’d learned early in her marriage that Jonathan could hear any word spoken even three or four rooms away. At the moment, she didn’t mind. Simon should hear what was on her mind.
“It is obvious how much you love Oliver.”
Lily’s face lit up. “I adore him. I do wish you’d seen him before now. He was the sweetest child you’d ever meet.”
“He’s different now, though,” Alice said. The change must have been difficult for her to face, not knowing what was happening. Poor girl.
“Simon and Will say it’s natural. I’ve never raised a boy before, Alice,” Lily admitted. “But it doesn’t seem natural to me. It feels as if I’m missing something.”
Alice patted her hand understandingly. “Lily, what if you’re right? What if there is something else going on with Oliver? Something you can’t understand. What if he could never be the sweet child you raised ever again?”
Lily shuddered at the thought, and Alice clutched her hand tighter.
“I don’t know how to answer that.”
“Well,” Alice prompted, “would you stop loving him? Would you turn away from him? Abandon him?”
Lily snatched her hand away, looking appalled at the suggestion. “Never. I love him more than life. I might not have given birth to him, Alice, but I feel as if he’s my child in every other way.”
Alice smiled. She was hoping Lily would say something along those lines. “No matter what?” she asked, knowing Simon hovered at the bottom of the terrace listening to every word.
Lily nodded her head, clutching her hand to her heart.
“So you are capable of unconditional love. That is good, dear. As a wife, you will need that ability. There may come a time when it is tested, and I do so hope you choose wisely.”
Lily blinked at her. Obviously the girl didn’t have any idea what she was talking about, though Alice was certain she’d find out soon enough. Simon couldn’t keep his secret forever, and he shouldn’t have to.
Twenty-Four
EARLY MORNING LIGHT POURED INTO LILY’S ROOM, and she blinked her eyes open. Why hadn’t she closed the drapes the night before? She lay quietly, staring up at the pale green canopy above her.
Strange. In almost no time at all, Westfield Hall was beginning to feel like home. She supposed that was a good thing, since it was to be her home shortly.
She sighed and then swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Almost instantly, she heard a light knock at her door. It was a little early for visitors.
Lily tightened her wrapper about herself and crossed the room to the door. She opened it and was surprised to find Simon standing on the other side. Instantly, she was worried something had happened. “Is it Oliver?”
A grin broke out on his face. “No, love. It’s Will. He returned in the dead of night.”
Will? Her eyes widened in surprise, and Simon pushed the door wide. “I’ve sent word to Mr. Bostic and expect him this morning. I thought you might want help picking out your wedding dress.”
As if she would trust his taste in that regard! Lily heaved a sigh. She was still getting accustomed to the idea that Will had returned. She would marry Simon today. Her life would never be the same.
Lily moved to shoo him from the room. He stood his ground. “I need to get dressed, Simon.” She motioned toward the door with her hand again.
“I had thought to help you with that,” he murmured, bending to kiss her cheek softly.
Lily patted her hair, smoothing the stray locks that had escaped her braid during the night. “I must look a fright.”
“The only thing I find frightening is how much I want you,” he said candidly, his eyes suddenly dark as night.
Lily shivered and drew her wrapper closer about her body.
“Simon,” a voice called from the hallway.
“Lily, if Ben ever goes missing again, I’m going to kill him. Because if she wasn’t worried about him, she never would have descended upon me.”
Lily couldn’t hold back the snicker that erupted.
“Simon!” his mother’s voice called more urgently. The sound of doors opening up and down the hallway made Lily smile even more. She was obviously opening every door, looking for her son.
“Do you want to climb in the wardrobe?” she whispered.
“If I thought you might fit in there with me, I probably would.” His gaze raked from her bare feet to the top of her head. The man was dangerous.
“Simon!” his mother called as her head poked through Lily’s open door. “Out!” She stepped behind him and pushed.
“You had better go,” Lily warned him. His mother appeared to be perfectly serious in her intent.
“I just wanted to give Lily a gift, Mother,” Simon said, planting his feet and refusing to move.
“And I can just imagine what sort of gift you want to give her, Simon,” Alice said sarcastically.
Lily couldn’t control her blush. She’d never met a family that discussed such things. But she had to admit they were adorable. They honestly loved one another.
“What kind of man do you think I am, Mother?” he said as he picked an invisible piece of string from his jacket.
“Oh, I know exactly what kind of man you are, Simon. Out!” She held up one finger and pointed toward the door.
Simon took a box from his pocket and gave it to his mother. “I did have good intentions. Even if I do get distracted easily around her.” He winked at Lily. “I’ll see you in just a bit?”
As though she would change her mind. Not a chance. He stepped across the threshold, and Alice came to stand before her. “Are you ready?”
Lily could only nod. She thought she was ready. She assumed time would tell.
“Then let’s get started.” Alice clapped her hands together, and servants immediately arrived carrying buckets of steaming water. They filled the tub and then left. Maids bustled through Lily’s wardrobe, removing clothes, undergarments, and slippers and lining them up for the duchess’ inspection.
“Into the tub, dear,” Alice directed as she began to peruse the assembled dresses.
Lily stepped into the tub, and the hot water lapped against her calves. Then she sank deeper until she was almost completely covered. While one of the maids washed her hair, another scrubbed her arms and legs. Lily felt like a child. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had bathed her.
Too soon, she was plucked from the water and wrapped in a robe, while a maid went to work drying her hair with one plush towel after another.
Finally dry, Lily opened her eyes to find Alice regarding her quietly. The duchess’s gaze was nearly as dark as Simon’s. “I have a feeling you are quite unprepared to marry my son. But I will do my best to rectify that.” She held out the box Simon had passed to her. “Let’s start with this, shall we?”
Lily opened the small satin box, and the air rushed out of her lungs. A translucent grey stone, oval in shape, lay inside. It was unusual in its color. Lily ran her fingers over the smooth surface, and then she lifted the stone to look at it closer.
“It’s beautiful. What is it?” she whispered. She laced its delicate gold chain through her fingers. As it caught the light, the stone shimmered.
“It’s moonstone,” Alice answered, touching her shoulder. “It belonged to his grandmother.”
Lily’s heart began to pound. What a sweet gesture. Not one she would have expected from Simon.
“Now,” Alice’s voice broke into her thoughts, “about your dress…”
Lily turned her attention to the line of her serviceable gowns laid out on her bed. Only one dress looked even close to what a duchess would wear. Alice ran her fingers over Lily’s new green silk.
“This one is very lovely.”
“Thank you. Prisca Hawthorne designed it for me.”
Alice smiled at that. “Such a sweet girl, and very talented.” She picked the gown from the bed and handed it to Lily. “This is the one, dear.”
Lily agreed. There wasn’t another viable choice.
“Nervous?” Will asked, handing Simon a whisky.
“Why would I be nervous?” Simon sank down in the chair behind his mahogany desk, hoping his brother didn’t notice the amber liquid tremble in his hands. He placed the tumbler on his desk. He didn’t need to imbibe this early.
“I don’t know,” Will replied, slipping into an empty chair. “I’ve often heard that some men get nervous right before their freedom is sucked away.”
“I’m fine,” Simon barked.
Will chuckled. “Yes, fine indeed.” He downed the whisky in his own glass and placed it on the edge of Simon’s desk. “In all honesty, it was probably time for you to settle down anyway.”
The last person who should tell him to settle down was Will. His brother had cut a larger swath through London than Simon had. “Well, then I suppose you’ll be next, William.”
His brother scoffed at the same time there was a scratch at the door.
“Come,” Will called, apparently not wanting to discuss his turn to find a bride.
Billings peeked inside. “Your Grace, the vicar Mr. Bostic has arrived. I put him in the blue parlor.”
“Excellent.” Simon rose from his seat. “Is he alone, Billings?”
The butler cracked a smile. “The vicar left his wife at home, Your Grace. If that is what you are asking.”
“Thank God!” Simon started for the door with Will quick on his tail. “Please inform Miss Rutledge and the duchess that we are all waiting for them, Billings.”
“Yes, of course.”
Simon and Will started down the corridor toward the blue parlor. When they stepped over the threshold, Simon was surprised to see that Mr. Bostic was not alone. Prisca Hawthorne also sat on the settee, talking to the vicar.
Will sucked in a breath beside him. “I thought Billings said he was alone,” he grumbled, only loud enough for Simon to hear.
“No. He said the man didn’t bring his wife,” Simon whispered back. Then he stepped toward the vicar. “Ah, Mr. Bostic, thank you so much for coming.”