Knight turned. “Lily, are you all right?”
Lily was still on her hands and knees, looking up at him. “How did you find me?”
He merely shrugged. “You aren’t the most creative runaway. I had a feeling that you would return to the posting house you arrived at. And you did. Here, let me help you up.” He offered her his hand and she grasped it. She staggered a bit when on her feet, but Knight made no move to assist her. When she was firmly standing again, he took her arm and drew her away from the alleyway. “I would just as soon say what I have to say to you without fear of interruption from either of those two scum.”
She didn’t utter another word until they reached the hackney that waited on the other side of the inn. “My valise,” she said.
Knight didn’t pause. He gave her the coldest look. “Forget it.” He opened the door and gave her a hand up. He stepped back and said to the driver, “I want you to drive around. I will tell you when to stop.”
“Aye, governor,” said the driver and clicked his nag into motion. Knight sat himself opposite Lily. Suddenly, without warning, the hackney hit a deep rut and Lily was tossed into his lap. It was as if the dam had broken. His hands were on her upper arms and he was shaking her.
“You damned stupid woman! How could you pull such a ridiculous stunt?”
“I don’t know,” Lily said, aware that her legs were tangled with his, her breasts pressed against his chest, and that he was holding her up.
Knight cursed luridly, lifted her onto his thighs, clasped her tightly against him, and kissed her, hard.
Nine
Knight was a wild man. His tongue was probing for entrance—he wanted to taste her now—and to his besotted joy, she parted her lips to him. He felt the moment she responded to him, and her response—uninhibited, incredibly passionate—sent him over the edge. His tongue was in her mouth, delving, learning her textures, reveling in her sweet taste; then, finally, he managed to gain a semblance of control. He drew back a bit, his lips, his tongue, slowing, gentling. But he couldn’t gentle his hands and arms. He was clutching her, pushing her back against his arm, and his right hand was at her breast, kneading, learning her, and he felt her shudder and arch her back upward, giving herself to him utterly.
He heard a small moan and that brought him abruptly to his beleaguered senses. His hands dropped from her so quickly that she nearly fell. He grabbed her about her waist and put her on the opposite seat.
Then he looked at her. The light was dim but it didn’t matter, he could still see her, and it shook him to his toes. She was staring fixedly at his mouth. Her incredible eyes had darkened in color with her passion, her hunger for him still there for him to see.
It hurt him to breathe. “Lily, don’t look at me like that.”
She didn’t know what he was talking about. She wanted to tell him that she felt the oddest sort of heat deep in her belly, and an ache so insistent and wonderful that it made her press her thighs tightly together. She heard her heartbeat pounding loudly, drowning out everything. She tasted him on her lips with her tongue; her breasts swelled and ached. She felt alive, wildly alive, for the first time in her life. She stared at him, not understanding, but wanting to tell him, to have him make her feel all those things again.
“Stop doing that, dammit.”
It required all his resolution not to pounce on her again. His hands were fisted at his sides. He told them to stay there. Still she sat there just staring at him as if she didn’t comprehend what had happened, as if she hadn’t wanted him to stop kissing her, to stop touching her, caressing her—“Stop it.”
“I heard you,” she said, and her breath expelled on a soft sigh. “I’m not doing anything at all.”
He said brutally, to save himself, “You are looking at me like you want me to ravish you, to take you right here in this damned filthy hackney. Is that what you want, Lily? You want me to toss up your skirts and ram myself into you, right here, right now?”
Her wildly beating heart slowed quite suddenly to a painfully diminished pace. The coursing waves of heat receded. She tried to put his angry words together, to make meaning of them.
“The devil take you, woman. Your virgin act is ludicrous. Tris had you since you were fifteen damned years old. What is it? You miss a man? Is that it? You’re as randy for me as I am for you? Why didn’t you stay with Ugly Arnold in Yorkshire? He would have been more than willing to plow your belly whenever you wished it. Lord knows, it would have saved my sanity.”
He thrust his fist against the ceiling. In a moment, the hackney came to a stop. “Go home and go to bed. After all, you do have the headache, don’t you?”
He wrenched open the door and jumped down, then slammed it. Lily heard him give the driver directions. She said nothing, merely sat on the cracked leather seat, her hands tightly clasped in her lap. It started to rain. She listened to the rat-tat-tat on the roof of the hackney. Foolishly she hoped Knight wouldn’t be caught in it. She didn’t want him to take a chill.
Fool.
Duckett was waiting for her. He took one look at her disheveled, dirty clothing, her tangled hair, her pale face, her shocked eyes, and quickly called for Mrs. Allgood.
Mrs. Allgood immediately took charge. She gathered Lily to her side. “You just come with me, lovey. I’ll tuck you in. No, now don’t you worry about the children. Laura Beth is sound asleep. His lordship saw to that before he left to fetch you. No, no need to say anything. I understand, truly I do.”
Lily wondered how she could understand. How could anyone understand? She didn’t herself.
“Oh, dear, I fear your gown is quite ruined. But your beautiful cloak is all right. The ermine isn’t damaged.”
Within fifteen minutes, Lily was in her long flannel nightgown, in her bed, Laura Beth clasped against her side, deeply asleep.
Plow her belly. She supposed that referred to the act of possession by men. Her fingertips lightly touched her stomach, then moved slowly lower to where that wonderful throbbing ache had centered. She wasn’t stupid. Although she’d never seen a man’s body, she knew it was very different from hers, that it had a rod that stuck out from the groin when the man felt desire. One time when Tris had held her closely after her father’s death, his sex had pressed hard against her belly. She’d felt nothing except vague distaste then, but later, when she thought about it, she knew he’d wanted to come inside her body.
She’d never really dwelt on the subject of sex after that one time, and on the surface of things the entire business seemed odd in the extreme to her and horribly embarrassing for the man. But it hadn’t seemed at all distasteful while Knight had been kissing her and fondling her breast with his wild fingers, molding her against him. She’d wanted more and more and she hadn’t realized that he’d stopped wanting her until he’d pushed her away.
Lily shuddered. He’d accused her of driving him mad. Well, she could go to Bedlam with him, for what he had done to her in the hackney had certainly made her become another person, a woman who had no control over herself. She shuddered again, wondering how it would feel to have his long fingers raise her flannel nightgown and stroke her naked flesh. Stop it, you half-wit. She didn’t, though, until sleep finally claimed her.
Knight had himself firmly in hand. He realized that he’d placed himself behind his desk to give himself distance, to put her in the position of the supplicant. He didn’t care. He needed every advantage with her that he could devise.
Ten minutes later, a light rap sounded on the library door. “Come,” he called, pleased that his voice sounded as indifferent as he planned to act.
Lily slithered into the room. There was no other way to put it, he thought, watching her and feeling himself harden with instant lust. Damn her, why? This morning she was wearing a simple gray muslin gown, cut high under her breasts, sleeves long and fitted, the collar so high it nearly touched her chin. Her luxuriant hair was drawn severely back. He should tell her that such nunlike efforts only made her appear more a
lluring. It was true that she was incredibly lovely, but he’d known lovely women before, made love to them, enjoyed them, and left them eventually without regrets. What he needed to do was make love to her; then all this ridiculous aberrant behavior would disappear. But he couldn’t. She was a lady, the widow of his dead cousin, and she was so passionate that it made him tremble just to remember. He stiffened ramrod-straight in the chair.
“Do come in and sit down, Lily.” He himself didn’t rise. It was rude, but he didn’t care.
She didn’t once look at him.
That helped.
“How is your headache this morning?”
That brought her head up and she stared at him blankly.
“Ah, of a certainty that was a lie, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” she said as she eased down into a chair. She sighed. “I fear that it was. I should have been more thoughtful before I spoke.”
He frowned just a moment, then forced his features into no expression at all.
“Are the children all right?”
“Yes.”
“John Jones will be here in three hours for you to interview him. I trust you plan to remain here for that length of time?”
“I won’t leave again unless you toss me out.β
“Oh, I shan’t do that. It would doubtless make the children impossible to handle. Also, how could I make them understand that their mother is obviously a very foolish, very stupid woman, who willy-nilly leaves her offspring because of some kind of inexplicable martyrish streak?”
“You probably couldn’t. Make them understand, that is. Sam would probably hit you first, particularly if he thought you were insulting me.”
He paused. At least she was speaking to him now. Good. “All right, enough sniping. It brings me no pleasure, especially since all you do is act like a whipped dog.” He saw her cheeks gain color and knew he was getting her goat. She deserved it. He raised his hand to stop her. “I know why you left yesterday evening. I know about the lady and gentleman who accosted you in the park yesterday.”
That brought her to the edge of her chair. “But Sam and Theo promised, they—”
“Laura Beth didn’t promise. She was the one who told me. She told me she wanted to toss the lady into the Tims. She said the lady called you a harlot and a whore and accused you of causing me—a fine, upstanding man of high moral character—to be ostracized by society. My question is, why didn’t you bother to enlighten me, Lily? It is a vague possibility that I could have provided some alternative other than flight for you.”
Lily studied the globe that stood beside Knight’s huge desk on a brass stand. She said finally, ignoring his question, “It’s true. I didn’t want you to be upset. I suppose I wanted to protect you, for you don’t deserve any of the horrid talk.”
“My God, woman, I pray your form of protection is never in the hands of my enemies.”
“Also, I didn’t want you to blame the children or look at all of us and curse the day we arrived.”
“I’ve already done that, innumerable times.”
Her eyes flew to his face and he saw pain there and blank surprise.
His hand slashed through the air. “Who was the lady? And the gentleman?”
“She didn’t introduce herself. She evidently knew us, though. The gentleman didn’t say anything either until after she rode away, and then—” She stopped abruptly and began a concentrated study of the globe.
Knight’s gut tightened with cramp. “What did the gentleman say to you?”
“Nothing.”
He stood up, flattening his palms on the desktop. “Lily, I swear I’ll thrash you—”
“He simply wanted me to be his mistress instead of yours. Isn’t that what everyone thinks I am?”
“Ah,” he said. “I thought as much.”
“If you thought as much, why did you make me say it?”
“Describe them,” he said, his voice sharp.
“The young lady was beautiful, dark-haired, foreign-looking, I thought, very exotic. As for the gentleman, he was older, a rake, I believe the term is, and he was riding a pure white stallion and was dressed entirely in white as well.”
“Good God.”
“You know who they are?”
“Yes, indeed.” Then he began to laugh. He wrapped his arms around himself, his laughter deepening. Lily just watched him, completely at sea. Finally Knight got himself under control. “That lady,” he said, “wasn’t a lady at all. Her name is Daniella and she is—was—my mistress. You’re right about her foreignness. She’s very much Italian. As for the gentleman, he’s her latest protector, Lord Daw by name, and he certainly isn’t a nice man. You were right about that, too.”
“Oh.”
“You see, my dear Lily, I am such an upstanding, moral gentleman that I dismissed my mistress all of two days ago. Actually, she’d begun to bore me excessively.” That wasn’t precisely the truth, but Lily couldn’t know that. “In any case, I’d already heard that Lord Daw had been sniffing about her, and I’ve never been one to share. I suppose that Daniella wanted some revenge. On you, it appears. It seems I made the immense mistake of yelling out your name when I took my pleasure with her.”
Knight stopped. God, what was happening to him? Speaking like this to a lady, to his cousin’s widow? He watched her face. Her eyes were open to him. He saw confusion uppermost, saw her tilt her head to the side in question. He wanted to shake her for her absurd act. He wanted to kiss her until she made that siren’s sound again, until she fell on him and tore off his clothes.
“Lily,” he said, and he sounded as if he were in pain. “Forgive me for my loose tongue. It was an improper thing to say and—”
“You should hear Sam if you wish to learn about improper.”
He smiled at that, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “What you did was more than stupid. I shan’t tell the boys, you may be certain of that, but Laura Beth knows you were gone. She yelled her head off and Betty came for me.”
“I thought she was sound asleep.”
“Well, she was until something woke her and you weren’t there, nor were you to be found.”
“Mrs. Allgood said you took care of her.”
“What do you expect? That I would leave her bellowing to the rafters? Of course I took care of her.”
It was Lily’s turn to raise her hand to quiet him. “The problem still remains. Do you truly believe people will stop talking about you if the children and I are gone from London?”
“Naturally. Out of sight, out of the gossip mills, the saying goes. If you approve of John, then all of you will leave for Castle Rosse in the next couple of days.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“That people will cease their talk?” Knight shrugged. “You don’t know society the way I do. This is my particular jungle, Lily. I know the rules—Lord, I helped form some of them and I know how their minds work. You aren’t here to be ogled and you no longer exist.”
Lily rose from her chair. “All right,” she said and looked yet again at the globe.
“Do you wonder where Ceylon is? Or are you trying to locate a small island to flee to?”
“No, it’s just that I’m embarrassed about last night. I didn’t thank you, Knight, for saving me from Ugly Arnold and his awful friend.”
“You’re quite welcome.”
“I’m also embarrassed about what happened later, in the hackney. I’m sorry I upset you.”
He was stunned into silence. He’d attacked her, for mercy’s sake.
After a moment she continued, sounding genuinely confused. “I’m sorry I behaved so oddly. I don’t understand how I could have done such things. If I offended you I am truly sorry. I hope you will forget it.”
“You may be certain that I shan’t.”
She looked at him helplessly, her expression strained.
He spoke very softly. “Do you have any idea what it is like for a man to have a woman offer herself so completely, so freely, to him?
To trust him with all of herself? No, of course you don’t. Dammit, go away now or I’ll say more stupid things. You could at least demand an apology from me, Mrs. Winthrop. I wasn’t particularly a gentleman last night. Good God, I not only attacked you, I insulted you.” He sighed. “Oh, Lily, please leave now, and if you wish, take the globe with you. It is better, I think, than looking at the idiot male who stands before you.”
She moistened her lips. “I’m sorry, truly I—”
“Be quiet. Do you think me an idiot? I know it wasn’t me in particular you were responding to. God, how insanely happy Tris must have been for the past five years. To have your passion, your trust; to possess you.”
Even as he spoke, she turned on her heel, picked up her skirts, and ran toward the door. He watched her tug on the knob until finally it gave. He thought he heard her sob but couldn’t be certain. He was a bastard. He’d hurt her again. He hadn’t meant to; he’d just meant to put her in her place.
Whatever that was.
John Jones, Tilney’s younger brother, was a likable young man of slight build, wide forehead, and intelligent brown eyes. Better yet, he had a sense of humor, and more importantly, he didn’t fall, smitten dumb, at Lily’s feet. Knight didn’t leave her alone with him. He simply couldn’t bring himself to do so. If the fellow succumbed, he wanted to be there to personally boot him out.
After John, as he’d insisted Lily call him, had gone, Knight said, “So you approve, Lily?”
“Oh, yes. He is a very nice young man. The boys will get along quite well with him, I’m sure.”
“Better yet, he didn’t fall instantly in love with you.”
She merely smiled, as if he were speaking nonsense. “I wish the boys could have met him.”
“They’ll meet him on Wednesday. Sam and Theo trust your judgment.”
“And yours, of course.”
“That’s right. Oh, by the way, Theo begins his stint in my library in an hour or so. Trump will assist him to get things started. When he arrives at Castle Rosse, he will continue his work in the library there. It is smaller but, as I recall, in much worse shape.”
Night Shadow Page 13