by Lydia Dare
“Don’t ever assume that I’m not a normal man. With the same wants and desires as any other.”
“Wants and desires?” she managed to croak out.
“Those, too,” he said, shaking his head. “But listen to me, Lily.”
She nodded, the water from his body soaking the front of her gown. But she paid it no heed. The intensity in his eyes had her total attention.
“I want you to be my wife. I want to raise Oliver like he’s a son. I want you to be the mother of my children. I want to share my life with you in every way.” His lips pressed against hers quickly. “I just wish…”
“You wish what, Simon?” Oh, please talk to me. Tell me what’s in your heart.
“I just wish I were a different man for you,” he finally admitted before he turned away to pat himself dry with the towel. “Could you ring for Oliver’s valet?”
“I could help you,” she offered. She really wasn’t ready to be dismissed.
“The boy’s valet will do.” He walked away from her, apparently forgetting his earlier promise of intimacy. Lily was left with a soaked gown, wounded pride, and just as many questions as she’d had before their conversation began.
She went to the bell pull and tugged harder than was necessary. “Simon,” she began, “I asked Findley to have lunch delivered to you here. I’m certain you’re famished.”
“How thoughtful,” he replied, looking out the window with his back to her.
“I thought we might enjoy the meal together. I thought we could talk.”
She saw the muscles in his back tense at those words, which only made her more suspicious. “Simon?”
“Lily, it’s been a long day,” he said quietly.
She frowned at him, not understanding him in the least. “What secrets are you keeping from me, Simon?”
He laughed and glanced over his shoulder at her. “Secrets? Lily, you yourself said you knew them all after keeping up with my scandalous exploits through the gossip columns all these years. What else could I possibly have to hide?”
That was a very good question, but Lily was certain he was hiding something. “I am your wife. You do know I’m trustworthy, don’t you?”
Simon sighed. “I’m certain you are. If I had any secrets, Lily, I would lay them at your feet.”
At that moment someone scratched at the door. “Come,” Lily called.
When Oliver’s valet opened the door, Lily knew she had run out of time. At least with Simon. Oliver, however, might very well shed some light on the situation.
She strode purposefully down the hall and around the corner to her nephew’s room. She knocked lightly and then pushed the door open. “Oliver,” she began.
“Aunt Lily!” When Oliver leapt off the bed, a book thudded to the floor at his feet.
“What’s that?” she asked, stepping forward. Looking more guilty than she’d ever seen him, Oliver shrugged. “Just one of my father’s books. I found it in the library.”
Lily shook her head. Oliver wouldn’t feel guilty over a book. He was far from studious. She must have misinterpreted the expression. If he wanted to study some of Daniel’s old books, she’d gladly welcome the activity. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that it’s Latin.”
Oliver nodded his head vigorously. “There is some Latin text, Aunt Lily.”
Now she didn’t believe him at all. But old tomes belonging to the late Earl of Maberley were not her highest concern at the moment. “Oliver, may I ask you a question?”
“Of course,” he answered, dropping back to his spot on the bed and kicking the book under the counterpane.
Lily took a spot beside him. “Why did you run off?”
Oliver hated to lie to his aunt, but the duke had made the rules very clear. Blackmoor had told Oliver what to say, and he hoped he’d be able to carry it off.
“I was jealous,” he repeated his contrived response.
“Jealous?” Aunt Lily echoed, a crease marring her brow.
He nodded while guilt consumed him. “Well, when I arrived at Westfield Hall, Blackmoor seemed to demand all of your attention. And you seemed taken by him.”
“Oliver York,” she said quietly, “you have always been my life.”
He shrugged. “Not anymore. I’ll be going off to school, and you have the duke, and…”
Aunt Lily kissed his cheek, just like she always did when she was trying to soothe him. Oliver swallowed his guilt about deceiving her. He did want her to be happy. She deserved all the happiness in the world. Knowing what he was, what the duke was, wouldn’t bring that to her. So he squeezed her hand and continued his ruse.
“I am sorry, Aunt Lily. I shouldn’t have run off. I suppose I thought you’d be so consumed in your new life, you wouldn’t miss me.”
“Oh, Oliver!” she said, brushing tears from her cheek. “I was so worried about you. How could you think that? When you go off to Harrow, I will miss you more than you will ever know.”
He hugged her then. Fiercely. “I love you, Aunt Lily.”
Thirty-Five
LILY WAS A TAD BIT DISGRUNTLED THE NEXT MORNING when Simon shook her awake. “Time to get up, love,” he said briskly. “I thought we could travel to Harrow today and give Oliver a tour of the school. I’d like to show the boy my old stomping grounds.”
“When did you come to bed?” she asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
“It was late.” He simply shrugged. “I don’t remember the time. I did like finding you in my bed, though,” he said and winked at her.
After dinner, Simon had mentioned that he wanted to look through the steward’s reports to be sure Maberley Hall was being cared for properly. Of course, he received quarterly statements, but he wanted to tour the grounds himself and see if any issues might need his assistance. When he’d taken Oliver with him, Lily certainly hadn’t been able to complain, since he was finally spending time with the boy.
He’d kissed her quickly before he walked out the door with Oliver and said, “Back soon.”
She’d watched as the sky grew darker and darker. Then she finally put on her nightrail and went to Simon’s room to wait for him.
“What kept you out so late?”
“I wanted to show Oliver some of the places Daniel and I used to go. That’s all.” He turned away from her.
Lily was quickly learning that Simon tended to turn away from her when he wanted to avoid directly answering her questions. She slowly sat up and regarded his profile as he looked down at the lawns below.
She had two options. She could travel to Harrow with the two of them and try to figure out what was going on. Or she could let them go on without her, and she could return to Westfield Hall alone. Feeling slightly uncharitable, Lily was leaning toward the second option.
If Simon couldn’t be honest with her, if he couldn’t tell her what was in his heart, if he couldn’t even be bothered to wake her when he returned in the middle of the night, she wasn’t certain she wanted to spend a day with him.
“Well,” she began carefully, “I think the two of you will enjoy your time together tremendously. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
He spun on his heels to face her. “Why do you make it sound as if we’re going without you?”
Lily swung her legs off the bed and slowly started toward the door that connected her chamber to his. “I don’t really see why I’m needed for the excursion, Simon. The two of you will get along fine without me.”
His grey eyes darkened, and a chill raced down her spine. However, she wouldn’t let him know that, and she continued toward the connecting door.
“I want you with me,” he growled.
Lily shrugged, hoping he couldn’t tell how he affected her. “One certainly wouldn’t know it.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Simon asked, stalking toward her.
She took a calming breath and raised herself to her full height, refusing to be cowed. “Exactly what I said. Ever since we arrived in Essex, you have
found one excuse or another to abandon me. It will be much easier for you two to carry on without me being in your way.”
“Lily.” He frowned, planting himself in front of the connecting door.
“You can tell me all about Harrow when you return to Westfield Hall.”
He folded his strong arms across his chest. “I don’t find pouting to be an attractive trait.”
Lily plastered a fraudulent smile across her face. “Indeed? I find boorish behavior to be particularly distasteful, myself. You are in my way, Simon.”
“Have I behaved boorishly?”
“In more ways than I can count. Now, please remove yourself from my path.”
“Lily.”
“You and Oliver really should get a start on the day. Do excuse me.” She tried to brush behind him and escape into her own chamber, but she found him more immobile than an elephant with a mule’s disposition.
He grasped her waist and pulled her flush against him. The intensity of his stare left her nearly breathless, which was infuriating. After putting up with his ill treatment the previous day, she didn’t want her pulse to race when he held her. She didn’t want to notice how lovely and strong his lips were. She didn’t want to feel his muscles and sinew through the thin material of her nightrail.
“You are my wife, Lily.” His dark voice warmed her and settled in her belly. “And you won’t escape me.”
“Ha!” she shot back, hoping to regain her composure. “You’re the one who has been escaping me, Simon Westfield. Now unhand me.”
“I’ve not been escaping you.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “As soon as we arrived, you took off. Then yesterday you made it seem as if you wanted my attention while you bathed, but then you pushed me away. You kept yourself apart from me the remainder of the day, except for dinner, as I’m certain you couldn’t find a plausible reason to avoid me, and then…” She poked his chest with her finger. “Then you stayed away all night and didn’t even wake me when you returned.”
Simon frowned. “I’m not accustomed to having to answer to anyone, Lily.”
“I’m not just anyone, Simon. I am your wife, which I suspect you are now regretting.”
“I told you my lifestyle wasn’t conducive to marriage. You’re going to have to be patient with me.”
Lily didn’t feel like being patient. She wanted answers—and sooner rather than later. “What are you hiding from me, Simon?”
He shook his head. “Nothing, Lily. Whether you believe me or not. I don’t know how to convince you.”
“Why did you push me away?”
“I’m not accustomed to having anyone else in my life. As I said, it will take me time to adjust. Dear God, Lily, this is all new to me.”
Was that all it was? She started to second-guess herself. Was she being silly and insecure? She stared into his grey eyes and felt warmth spread across her body. “You’re not trying to avoid me?”
He shook his head.
“Why didn’t you wake me last night?”
His lips formed a lopsided smile. “Because you looked so tired. After the exhausting day we had, I couldn’t bring myself to rouse you, though I wanted nothing more than to do so. Believe me, if I’d known you’d react this way, I would have done so.”
“Truly?” she asked, her voice very small.
“If I promise to ravish you every night, will you promise to avoid histrionics every morning?”
Her cheeks warmed, and she felt like a fool. She’d never been prone to dramatics before.
“Is that a yes?” he asked, dipping his head down to hers. “I promise to keep my part of the bargain, Lily.”
“To ravish me every night?”
A wolfish grin spread across his face. “And sometimes in the morning.”
When Simon’s lips captured hers, all other thoughts left Lily’s mind. His strong hands splayed across her lower back and pressed her against his arousal.
Lily couldn’t think when he held her this close, when his eyes darkened to flint and his nostrils flared. She could only feel. And feel she did. Every inch of him pressed against her belly, hot and hard.
“Can we start with this morning?” Lily felt the heat creep up her cheeks when he raised one eyebrow. Perhaps she was being too bold. But then he picked her up and took her back to bed, and all thoughts of being too pushy fled quickly from her mind.
Simon draped his arm around Lily as the coach rocked her back to sleep. On the other side of the carriage, Oliver watched with a sad smile on his face. The boy had been quiet most of the journey, and Simon wondered what was on Oliver’s mind. “Something wrong?” he asked quietly.
Oliver shook his head. “Just thinking about Aunt Lily.”
She stirred in Simon’s arm at the sound of her name but quickly stilled. “What about her?”
Oliver shrugged. “I just don’t want her to get angry with me when she finds out.”
“She’s not going to find out.”
Oliver glanced out the window at the passing countryside. “Aunt Lily always finds out everything. I hope she forgives me for not telling her.”
Guilt niggled at Simon’s conscience. “Oliver, she’s happier not knowing. Enough about this. We should be talking about your upcoming visit to Harrow.”
Oliver straightened in his seat. “You said there are safe places for me to go when…” his voice trailed off.
Simon nodded. “My father, yours, Will, Benjamin, and I were always safe at school. You will be, too. The difficult part is controlling yourself as the moon waxes. Its pull gets stronger as the days pass. Yet you have to maintain your personality so those around you won’t notice the changes occurring within you.”
“How do I do that?”
“When you begin the term, keep to yourself as much as possible. Count the days on the calendar. Everyone is different, but most of us feel the pull of the moon four to five days before it’s completely full. When you see the dates approaching on the calendar, you should take special care to be cognizant of your emotions and reactions. When you feel like you are not in control, go somewhere safe.
“As time goes by, your control will strengthen. You will learn to manage your wildness, instead of it managing you.”
Oliver nodded, his gaze wandering to the passing scenery out his window.
“You look as though you don’t trust me.”
“No. It’s me I don’t trust,” Oliver sighed.
“It’ll come with time. Have faith in yourself. As I have faith in you.” It was obvious the boy needed a confidence primer. Wasn’t that something fathers did? He rather liked the thought of being the one to do that for Oliver. Would he be the same with his own children?
Simon looked down at Lily, who was beginning to stir again. Children. With her. He couldn’t help but smile and draw her more closely to him.
It was nearly impossible for Lily to lie completely still when she wanted to hear what they were saying so badly. She’d nearly been asleep when Simon had spoken. To hear him ask Oliver what was troubling him initially warmed her heart, but as she listened further, she simply became more and more puzzled.
Lily tried to maintain a relaxed pose, but it was difficult. Her heart really wanted to thump right out of her chest.
Why in the world would Oliver ever think she’d be disappointed in him? She’d always told him what a good boy he was. And, despite the fact that he didn’t study his Latin text, he was truly a joy to be around. Sure, over the last few months, he’d become a bit surly. And he’d gotten aggressive with her a few times. But maybe that was just normal adolescent behavior. What did she know? She’d never raised a child.
…She’s not going to find out… Find out what? Was there some manly secret that women weren’t aware of? Women pretended that their monthly courses didn’t exist and they were never spoken of, but it really wasn’t a secret. Surely, men didn’t have any ailments that couldn’t be discussed.
Lily wanted to sit up and force them to tell her th
e truth. But she had a feeling Simon would quickly and effectively change the subject. She would get more answers if she pretended to sleep.
…There are safe places to go… Why would Oliver need a safe place to go at school? To escape bullies? For personal time? To meet girls? There were no girls at Harrow, aside from the staff.
…Calendar… Control… Lily grew more and more agitated. She stirred in Simon’s arms, fully prepared to sit up and have a go at them both. She would stop the carriage and refuse to go one more inch until someone told her what these secrets were about. But Simon pulled her closer to his chest and locked his strong arms around her. She couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to.
Will knew the secrets. Oliver obviously knew them. Even Simon’s mother had alluded to facts that weren’t yet apparent.
Was there madness in the family? They all seemed quite sane most of the time. But she could think of no other explanation for wanting to keep her in the dark.
This mystery would gnaw at her like a dog with a bone until she unraveled the details. She would find out what was going on. And she would do it soon.
Thirty-Six
ST. MARY’S CHURCH IN HARROW-ON-THE-HILL WAS A remarkable medieval structure. Lily had never seen it before and was surprised that she could look down on London from her position in the churchyard. She had heard Lord Byron loved this church and spent many hours whiling away his years at school in this very courtyard. The beauty of the place made it easy to see why he’d done so.
Still, as lovely as she found the village and its quaint surroundings, Lily anxiously awaited Simon and Oliver’s return from the school grounds. She wished they’d let her go with them on their tour, but Simon had adamantly shaken his head, informing her that a woman would be a distraction on campus.
The thought made Lily frown. A distraction. That she highly doubted. More likely, he and Oliver couldn’t discuss their plans with her awake. Whatever this was about, Simon guarded his secret fiercely. He wasn’t likely to tell her what was going on even if she asked nicely or if she demanded, stomping her foot and acting the role of a fishwife.