Lillie ran her hand over the dark wood. “My dad had one exactly like this in London.” She took Swain’s hands and studied them. “The first time I met you, I was struck by how similar your hands are to his, large with long fingers.” Swain was mesmerized as Lillie turned the right hand over and traced her thumb along the rough areas. “And you both have calluses on your right hand from holding a polo mallet…at least until his hand was injured when I was still fairly young and he had to give up the sport. I still remember sitting in his lap and and opening his hand up to run my fingers over them.” Lillie looked up at her. “Play for me, Swain? Please?”
Since words seemed to be failing her, Swain slid onto the piano bench as Lillie propped open its lid. Swain drank her in—her beautiful face, dark honey eyes, silky blond curls. Then she closed her eyes and did what felt to her as natural as riding a horse. She let music speak her emotions.
It was an easy, flowing, lighthearted waltz. She imagined them dancing, moving around the room in swirling turns, dropping their heads back and laughing. That was how Lillie made her feel.
When the last notes still hung in the air, Lillie sat down next to her. “There’s a big formal benefit tomorrow night to raise money for the equestrian-rescue center. I want you to be my escort, but you have to promise not to retreat to the kitchen.”
“Lillie, I don’t know.”
“Please, Swain. Your music makes me want to dance with you in the worst way.”
Swain shook her head. “Dancing the way I’d want to dance with you—two women—would start the whole town talking.”
“We can marry and serve in the military. Why shouldn’t we be able to dance together?”
“Gays can’t marry in most states here or serve in the military.”
“Well, that’s absurd. But I won’t let that stop me from dancing with you if I want.”
“I don’t know how to dance.”
“What?”
Swain’s cheeks heated. “I don’t know how to waltz or do any formal dances.”
Lillie stood and held out her hand. “I’ll show you. You have an athlete’s natural grace and control. It should be easy.”
Swain was doubtful, but she wanted to dance with Lillie. She sucked in a deep breath and took Lillie’s hand in hers.
After walking through the basic steps several times, Lillie went to a computerized console on the wall and selected a song. As the room filled with a symphonic waltz, Lillie held out her arms. They began haltingly and with a few miscues, but Swain soon found her timing and they danced. They really danced. She twirled Lillie around the huge room until they were both laughing and breathless.
“I knew you’d be good at this,” Lillie said, beaming.
Lillie was so beautiful, so alive in her arms. She was a bright burning flame and Swain was desperate for her. She pulled Lillie close, close enough that their lips nearly touched, close enough that she could feel Lillie’s breath on her skin. Their lips brushed together and Lillie opened to her, their tongues moving in their own languid waltz.
When their kiss ended, Lillie’s eyes were dreamy. “Will you escort me to the dance, then?”
“I think you could find a better escort, but yes.” She couldn’t bear the thought of someone else dancing with Lillie.
“I couldn’t possibly make a better choice. You’re intelligent, handsome, sweet, brave, and gallant.”
She summoned a cocky smile. “You left out sexy.”
Lillie laughed softly. “You’re incredibly sexy and, according to the girls around town, an exceptional lover. But I can’t attest to that, can I?”
Swain was caught completely off guard. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She steadied her thoughts, cleared her throat, and tried again.
“I do want you. So much.” She stroked Lillie’s cheek, her hand trembling with the effort to stop there. She craved to touch every inch of Lillie, every sensitive spot. She wanted to run her hands over her bare shoulders, her smooth back, the soft curve of her hips, and the silky inside of her thighs. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “But neither of us knows what our future holds. As hard as it’ll be, we need to wait until some things are settled. Things like Abigail’s will.” And whether Lillie planned to leave her.
Lillie smiled ruefully. “You’re right, but I’m not sure I can promise to do that.”
Swain glanced at her watch. “It’s nearly midnight and I have to be up at dawn to feed horses. I need to collect Beau and head for the barn.”
“It took three of us to carry all his things up here, and I’ve gotten used to his snoring. This house is so empty, I sleep better with him here.” She looked up shyly. “Do you mind?”
Swain smiled and kissed her gently. “I don’t mind at all that you’ve stolen my dog.” And my heart.
*
Lillie climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling. It hadn’t occurred to her that Swain could be worried about the difference in their backgrounds. When she looked at Swain, she saw a Wetherington. She had forgotten that Swain still saw a poor kid who never went to college, never traveled outside the Southeast.
She smiled to herself, reliving the rapt concentration on Swain’s face as she played the piano. She could almost feel Swain’s strong shoulders under her hands and see those cornflower blue eyes holding her steady as they danced in dizzying circles until they were breathless.
They had shared several more kisses in a long good night before Swain finally disappeared into the darkness. She touched her lips, marveling at the soft warmth of Swain’s mouth. How would it feel touching, sucking her in other places?
But as their attraction, their affection was nearing full bloom, so were Lillie’s fears.
She should have told Swain the truth when she was looking at the photographs Lillie had found in Abigail’s room and set out around the house. Did Swain see her reflection in Jim Wetherington’s face?
It was perfect timing and she’d started to say it, but Swain had stopped her with a hand to her lips.
She should have confessed everything about her stalker. The man apparently knew about Swain, too. She had a right to know she was likely also in danger. Lillie’s heart lurched. The stalker could have ambushed Swain on her way to the barn. But that didn’t happen because Swain had called after she was tucked into bed, for one last murmured good night.
Lillie, what do you wear to bed?
My silk bikini panties.
(groan)
What are you wearing, Swain?
Nothing.
I’m coming down to the barn now.
(laughter) No, you’re not. Good night, Lillie.
Good night, love.
She should have persisted until Swain knew everything. But the night had turned so magical and Lillie hadn’t been willing to risk the moment she had been longing for—Swain in her arms, Swain’s lips on hers, Swain’s heart beating against her breasts.
Lillie closed her eyes. She was afraid of losing this tenuous bond between them, but the longer she withheld the truth, the angrier Swain might be.
She couldn’t be sure what the future would hold, but she was absolutely certain she wanted it to somehow include Swain. She would go to her in the morning. It was time to come clean, no matter the cost.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Lillie rose early after a restless night. The more she thought, the more certain she felt she must reveal everything. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to find out you had a dad and a stepmum who’d left you to grow up in a herd of children raised by strangers. She prayed that what they felt for each other would help soothe the hurt she knew the truth would inflict.
Beau stretched and groaned as she dressed, then followed her as she hurried downstairs and through the kitchen. When she stepped into the morning chill, the sound of shouting and galloping horses greeted her. Her breath caught as she looked out over the practice field.
Swain was pure poetry astride Black Astor. They moved as one animal, wheeling and
charging, dodging and chasing the ball. She wielded her mallet like a broadsword, swinging it high over her head, then downward with deadly accuracy.
Although the morning fog had barely burned off, the sweating ponies indicated the stick-and-ball session was well under way. On impulse, Lillie ducked back into the house and grabbed her camera. She adjusted her settings and went to work.
Swain and Rob jostled for position while Javier stood ready to defend the goal. Astor gave Rob’s pony a hard bump and whirled back toward the ball. But in mid-turn, Swain’s head jerked up at the sight of Lillie. Her distraction was enough for Rob to recover and slam the ball past Javier.
“Woot!” Rob crowed. “What is it you tell us, boss? Eyes on the ball at all times.” He waved a greeting at Lillie.
“Yeah, yeah. You got lucky.” Swain waved her mallet at the two men. “You guys go ahead. I’ll cool Astor off.”
She reined to a stop in front of Lillie and bent over, smiling. The breeze feathered and danced Swain’s disheveled hair across her forehead, her eyes blue strobes beneath the dark locks. Lillie lifted her camera and clicked off a few frames.
“You’re up early. Are you here just to shoot pictures? Want me to saddle Finesse for you to join us?” Swain asked.
“Thank you, but no. I wanted to talk when you have a chance, but I can wait.”
Swain dismounted. “We were finished with the training session and only having fun now.”
They walked toward the barn, Swain leading Astor and Beau running ahead. Lillie couldn’t stop smiling. Swain’s exuberant mood, the pheromones rolling off her were intoxicating. They gazed at each other and laughed.
“You have to stop looking at me like that,” Swain murmured.
Like what?”
“Like you want to tear my clothes off.”
Lillie shuddered and glanced away. For a moment, she was afraid Swain’s gaze, her words would make her orgasm without even being touched. “You’re partly right.”
“Partly?”
Their flirtation was calming Lillie’s fear, her nervousness. If she could hold Swain close enough as she told her, perhaps that would temper her reaction. She turned back to Swain, smiling more broadly. “I want to tear off your clothes and lick every part of that gorgeous body.”
Swain stumbled, then caught herself. “Jesus, woman. Are you trying to give me a heart attack? I never knew the British were so naughty.”
She handed Astor’s reins to a stable hand with orders to cool him out.
“Can we go upstairs and talk for a bit?” Lillie asked when the boy led Astor away.
Swain looked back at her hungrily. “Lillie, if we go upstairs, I’m pretty sure we won’t be talking.”
“You were the one who said we should wait.”
“True, but I didn’t know you’d make waiting so hard.”
“The office then.”
Swain frowned. “You really meant ‘talk,’ didn’t you? Is something wrong?”
Lillie didn’t know where to begin, but standing in the hallway of the barn with horses and stable help walking past wasn’t the place to do it. She led Swain into the barn’s office to share a long, affectionate kiss that ended in a tight hug.
“What is it, Lillie?”
“I can’t believe how much I’ve come to care about you in such a short time,” she murmured against Swain’s neck. She felt Swain relax.
“And I care about you, Lillie. More than I thought possible.”
“I need to tell you some things, love. Things that I hope won’t change how you feel about me.”
“Nothing could change how I feel about you.”
Lillie tightened her hold. “Before Grandmum died—”
The barn phone began ringing.
“Ignore it,” Swain said. “Go ahead. You were going to say—”
Lillie’s cell phone also began to ring, and the cacophony was too much to talk above. They stepped back from each other with apologetic smiles and each answered her phone. After they concluded their calls, they looked at each other.
“That was Mr. Whitney. He’s ready to read Grandmum’s will.”
“That was Bonner’s secretary calling me. I guess they want both of us there.”
This was their moment of truth, the first step toward the future—together or apart.
*
Bonner stared out the window of his plush office and ran his fingers through his hair. His firm had offices near the state capitol in Columbia, but he had grown tired of politics and shifted most of the practice there to his son and younger partners. Nowadays, he preferred the quiet, slower pace of the office his father had established in Aiken many years ago. Lately, even that was too much.
The burden of keeping and protecting the legal secrets of his clients, many of them friends, had grown heavier with the years. He had just celebrated his seventieth birthday and he was tired. The Wetherington estate was his last. After this was settled, he planned to turn the practice over to Hoyt and spend the rest of his days on the golf course.
But he had this one last confidence, the heaviest of his burdens, to unload from his shoulders. Jim Wetherington had been his closest friend since childhood. Because of their friendship, Bonner had protected Abigail and their family secret even after Jim’s death, even after that secret came to live with Abigail six years ago.
Today wouldn’t end his business with the Wetheringtons, but everything would finally be in the open. Swain’s brother might not be worth much, but she had deserved better than the lot they had dealt her in life. Today, she would finally get her due.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
They rode to the law office together in Swain’s truck. Lillie was nervous and slid her hand across the wide seat to grasp Swain’s. She was desperate to hold tight so Swain didn’t vanish again.
But Swain was already slipping away. She squeezed Lillie’s hand and released it, her expression closed, her eyes that easily displayed her emotions now shuttered. Lillie pulled back her hand that Swain had abandoned and folded it with her other in her lap. She was afraid for Swain and whatever place she was retreating to inside. She had been anxious for the truth to finally be revealed—at first so she could disappear, more recently so she and Swain could talk about their future. Now it was minutes away and terrified her.
They parked and sat for a long moment, the reverberating noise of the truck’s big diesel engine gradually fading. Swain had physically moved so far away, she was almost hugging her door. Shocked by the sudden change, Lillie had to make one last effort to pull her closer.
“Swain, please. Whatever happens, let’s face it together.” She reached out, but dropped her hand to the seat at Swain’s almost imperceptible flinch. “I know it hasn’t been long, but I—”
“Lillie.” Swain’s firm voice filled the truck. Her eyes were dull when she looked up. “Don’t make promises, plans you’ll regret an hour from now.”
“But—”
“Bonner’s waiting.” Swain opened her door and slid from the truck.
*
After turning down offers of coffee or tea, they had settled into matching wingback chairs in front of Bonner’s huge mahogany desk.
“I need to discuss several things with both of you today,” Bonner said. “Lillie, as you already know, you inherited all of your adopted father’s individual assets upon his death. Any assets held jointly with Abigail remained with her until the time of her death. The will she had me draw up after your grandfather died had left everything to Eric. But when he died before her, she had your father’s solicitor in London draw a new will. A probate judge here in South Carolina has approved that will as authentic. I’ll go over a summary of it now.”
Bonner shuffled some papers and set a pair of reading glasses on his nose. He peered over the glasses at Lillie and Swain. “I want to say this first. Abigail was generous when it came to charities, but wasn’t an extravagant spender personally. She had a keen financial mind and, at the time of her death, was extremely wealt
hy.”
He cleared his throat. “Being of sound mind and body at the time of this last will and testament, I, Abigail Grace Fletcher Wetherington, do hereby lawfully decree the distribution of my estate and holdings.” He paused. “Again, this first part is a general summary. I will give you copies that list all her extensive assets individually, so you can read those details at your leisure.” He adjusted his glasses and began to read again.
“Twenty million dollars will be used to establish a foundation dedicated to equine issues. The house and surrounding lawns of the South Carolina estate, as well as all assets and property held jointly in the names of Abigail Wetherington and Eric Wetherington, are to be transferred to the light of my life, Lillian Claire Wetherington.”
Bonner glanced up at Swain. “The South Carolina polo stables and all property outside the residence and lawns of the estate, all livestock, equipment, and other assets pertaining to the maintenance of those grounds and stables are to be transferred to the one person who will cherish them as much as I have, the person that my pride has cheated since birth, Rebecca Swain Butler.”
Swain, who had been restlessly shifting in her chair, went very still. The color drained from her face.
“Swain,” Lillie said softly. But Swain’s glare was fixed on Bonner.
“Let me finish,” Bonner said, not shrinking from Swain’s icy stare. “The remaining assets, held only in Abigail’s name, total nearly seventy million dollars and are to be split equally between the two of you.”
“No.”
Lillie jerked when Swain’s voice rang out. Swain launched from her chair, turned away from them, and paced over to stare out the window.
“No,” she said through clenched teeth. “I won’t accept it. I don’t want her ponies or her money.”
Lillie’s heart nearly broke at the pain in Swain’s voice. “Mr. Whitney, could you leave us alone for a few moments?”
“There’s more I have to discuss with you today. It can’t be put off.”
Call Me Softly Page 20