Willoughby 03 - A Rogue's Deadly Redemption

by Jeannie Ruesch

  It was later.

  His hand landed on the small of her back, and she jumped as they entered the house. The warmth of the entry way threatened to suffocate, and she darted her gaze around.

  Empty. She breathed a small sigh of relief. She’d take every second she could.

  Blythe came walking toward them. “Perhaps you’d like to get settled, Robert? Aria has prepared a room for you.”

  Lily felt his concern in his steady gaze on her, he wasn’t an idiot. He nodded in an agreeable way that somehow made it clear he knew they needed time. Lily watched him as he walked up the stairs.

  Blythe came to stand next to her. “She isn’t here,” she said softly. “She went shopping.”

  The strings holding Lily’s body together sagged.

  “But she will return, Lily. What are—” Blythe grabbed her forearm. “Come with me.”

  Blythe dragged her into the parlor.

  Lily marveled at the way Blythe and Aria managed to achieve their goals through such different means. Aria was fire and brimstone, and Blythe was calm, forceful winds that pushed you across the room before you realized you’d moved.

  Before long, Lily was face to face with that force of nature.

  “What are you doing?” Blythe asked with soft concern.

  “I am helping him.”

  Blythe snorted. “You and I both know that isn’t true. Even putting aside the danger for a moment—and we will discuss that —I see how you look at him. I see how protective you are. You’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken all over again. You left him, remember?”

  “I left the other Robert,” Lily argued. “But he…he’s different.”

  She so wanted him to be different.

  “If he’s different, it’s because he has no frame of reference. What happens when he does?” Blythe’s words rankled Lily. She didn’t want to think about that.

  “He told me he loves me.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “I want to.” God, how she wanted to.

  “He’s injured, feeling very alone, I imagine, and my darling girl, you are the picture of the life he wants to hold on to. It’s probably a very heady feeling for him, one in which he doesn’t feel so damaged.”

  “You’re wrong.” Even as Lily said it, the doubts, uncertainties crept in. They’d never truly left. Somehow, they always edged everything she did, said.

  “Is that why you stopped Adam from even saying Cordelia’s name?” Blythe asked. “You haven’t told Robert everything, have you?”

  Lily looked away, unable to answer.

  “You’ve built something on a fantasy, Lily. It’s going to come crashing down.” Blythe straightened. “You’ll have to explain it to him soon enough. He’s here. He will meet her.”

  “But…” Lily stopped the words before the thought came out.

  “But what?”

  “If he doesn’t remember her. If he never remembers?”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” Empathy pursed Blythe’s lips. Or pity. Neither of which Lily wanted.

  It was an awful thought. One she should be ashamed to even consider.

  “Is that the life you want?” Blythe asked. “Constantly in fear of the day that might come?”

  No, it wasn’t. Lily wanted a life with a man who adored her, who loved her without reservation, without hesitation. Who would fight for her like this version of Robert had been willing to do so many times already.

  She wanted to be that important to someone. She wanted that someone to be Robert.

  Even though she knew, she knew with that ache buried deep inside, that he might never be.

  A scuffle in the entry way sent Lily’s body into tense stillness.

  Had Cordelia come home already?

  Shopping for her was an hours-long affair, and Lily had prayed for more time.

  Then Adam strode in. He went straight for the sidebar and poured himself a liberal drink.

  “None for me?” Lily joked, trying to lighten the mood as she let out a slow breath.

  He grabbed another glass and dropped it with a clink. In minutes, he’d filled them both and brought hers over.

  “What, none for me?” Blythe asked dryly.

  “This time, it isn’t your husband who has compelled me to drink,” he shot back at Blythe with a quirk of a smile.

  Adam and Blythe’s husband had taken quite some time to put aside their differences.

  Lily took the glass Adam proffered. The last time she’d partaken of her brother’s brandy had involved her husband, as well. At Blythe’s wedding, before her own, when she was watching her sister’s happiness and trying to believe that her own betrothed would even be one ounce as blissful to marry her as Michael had been to marry Blythe.

  Blissful wasn’t a word she would have used in her marriage, even when things had been good between them. Lily took a sip and let the fiery liquid heat her insides. The scorches down her throat had an oddly soothing affect.

  Adam shot down his drink and set the glass down with a thunk. “All right. Tell me all of it.”

  Warmth prickled Lily’s skin as she recalled Robert’s hands, kisses…no, she wouldn’t be sharing that. So far, Adam had yet to make good on his promise to pummel Robert and she wasn’t about to remind him of it.

  So she went back to the night of Robert’s accident and continued through the events in Robert’s office. She told him everything, including Captain Keenan’s involvement. Well, almost everything.

  Some things your brother didn’t need to know.

  Adam brought a hand up to his forehead and then ran it through his hair. “And you have no idea what the thugs were after?”

  She shook her head. “None. I don’t think Robert does either.”

  “That’s debatable.”

  She ignored him. “All we found were a number of sketches. He’s an artist, Adam. He’s good, and they mentioned something about that but what could he possibly owe them? A painting? How could that be worth such threats?” She frowned. “Why would Captain Keenan be involved?”

  “You have to be mistaken,” Blythe replied, shaking her head. “It’s been a few years since Michael has seen him, but he is as honorable as they come.”

  “I called him by name, Blythe. It was him.”

  “How?” Blythe’s brow furrowed. “I…God, this is going to devastate Michael. I need to tell him. He’ll know how to reach Keenan. We can clear this up.” She met Lily’s gaze. “Will you be all right?”

  Lily nodded, and with a quick hug and goodbye, Blythe hurried out.

  The silence dragged. Adam sat, his lips pressed together, his head tilted away. Every few seconds, he gave a quick shake of his head.

  “Ask.”

  “I can’t. Because if you tell me that you’ve forgiven the bastard, I might have to lock you up. Lily, what are you thinking?”

  The phrase of the day, apparently.

  A rush of affection for her predictable, protective, wonderful brother surprised her, and she offered a smile.

  “Stop looking so bloody cheerful, damn it. This is serious.”

  His gruffness just made her smile bigger.

  “He isn’t worth it.”

  “I know.”

  “You deserve better.”

  “I know.”

  Adam pointed a finger at her. “You should have listened to me years ago.”

  “Are you quite finished getting all your ‘I Was Rights’ out of the way?”

  Adam shot her a scowl. “Just tell me why. Why him? Forget that he’s your husband. Why him, when he isn’t good enough to shine the floor you walk on?”

  “Would anyone be good enough?” she challenged lightly. “Georgie escaped just in time.” A pang hit Lily at Georgie’s name. She missed her little sister so much.

  Adam was waiting for her answer, so she replied, “There is kindness in him.”

  He scoffed. “Where? His toes?”

  “I can’t explain every small gesture I’ve witnessed, but they happen
ed.” She’d believed there were depths she had never seen in him and that belief had been confirmed when he’d saved the little boy on the street. That had been a selfless act, a side she hadn’t seen before. Then there was his protectiveness of her, even when he had no strength or ability to fight for himself.

  Though somehow, she didn’t think that particular point would endear him to Adam.

  “Can you tell me why you love Aria?”

  “She’s fire and light, and everything in between. She is my world, and I can’t imagine her not in it.”

  “So it isn’t a list of traits you cling to?” Lily challenged. “But I have to rattle off Robert’s good qualities to convince you he’s worthy of my love?”

  “It would be nice to know he had some good qualities, that’s all.”

  “Oh, rubbish, Adam.” Irritation stiffened her spine. “I know he isn’t perfect, but neither are you and Aria loves you anyway.”

  “I am perfection every waking hour.”

  Lily snorted.

  “I worry about you. I hate to see you miserable. It took courage to walk away from that.”

  “And returning to him would make me weak? Is that what you mean?”

  “There isn’t a woman in this family who could ever be accused of being weak. Unhappy, that’s a different story. I don’t want you unhappy.”

  “You weren’t so enamored of Blythe’s husband, either. You believed the worst of him, and now look at the two of you.”

  “That’s different.”

  “How?”

  “Michael has proven himself. All I’ve seen Robert do is cause a rift in this family and hurt you enough to convince you to leave him. I don’t see evidence of anyone changed.”

  “Robert has proven himself to me,” she replied empathically, even as her heart dipped. She believed in him. She did.

  She wanted to believe. She desperately wanted to believe.

  Robert had seen her, when no one else did. Her presence never lit up a room, it barely offered the glint of candlelight. But he’d made her feel special when she found herself so very ordinary.

  She’d found that again. It felt the same as it had when he had stolen her breath away. Every second was joyous and agony at the same time. Because being in this house meant she was living on borrowed time.

  She prayed that this time, when the bubble burst, it wouldn’t destroy their lives.

  Chapter Twenty One

  The knock on the door was just loud enough for Robert to hear. He scrutinized the sketches spread out on the bed. A mix of Lily’s beautiful, expressive face, her eyes, her curves…and the harsh reality of the banknotes. It was an odd parallel of the areas of his life that kept offering more and more questions, but very little answers.

  Another knock came, an echo louder than the previous, and Robert pushed the pages into a pile, hiding the incriminating ones. He walked to the door, opened it.

  There she stood, her hands clasped in front of her, a candlelight outline around her. Her lower lip was curved in, as though she were biting it. Nervous.

  He didn’t think. He tugged her close and bent down to capture the tortured lip in his own. Gave it the loving attention it deserved.

  Her instant response, the way she leaned her whole body against his hardened him, directed any good intentions straight to his groin and Robert struggled to remember he was in hostile territory with Lily’s family waiting to yank her away.

  He scanned her up-turned face. “Have they convinced you I’m worthless?”

  Her nose scrunched, and she shook her head. “Do not say such things.”

  Robert’s gaze swerved to the bed and the evidence atop it. “There are things I need to tell you.”

  Panic lit in her eyes. “Has…being here brought back a memory?”

  He frowned. “No. Should it? I had gained the impression I didn’t spend much time here.”

  “No, you didn’t.” Lily’s head tilted down and she slipped out of his arms and moved into the room. Her gaze stopped on the bed. “Do you…did you remember drawing them?”

  Robert couldn’t shake the feeling they were dancing around what they really needed to say.

  He needed to tell her the truth. What did she need to tell him?

  “Lily.”

  Her gaze snapped to his, and he could see the swirl of emotion in her wide eyes. “Yes?”

  “We need to have a frank discussion.”

  Guilt, relief or a mix of both flooded her eyes. “We do.” She took a deep breath. “Can it be tomorrow?”

  The request surprised him. He thought she’d want everything on the table.

  And then it hit.

  Whatever she had to tell him, she was afraid would change things.

  He knew this, because it was exactly how he felt, exactly why he couldn’t find the words to tell her what Edwin had told him. To tell her who her husband really was. He wasn’t ready to lose her.

  “Tomorrow then.”

  One more day. Then tomorrow, he would tell her everything then. Or the next day. But now…

  She stepped toward him, and her need mirrored his own. Her desire was clear. This night, for a myriad of reasons, could very well be the last one they shared in this way.

  He would take any moments he could. He led her to the bed. He was careful to move the stack of papers to a chair. He wanted nothing to halt this moment.

  Words didn’t need to be said, but instead they spoke with movement. With kisses. Caresses. They spoke silently of their love, underscored by a line of desperate need to be as close as they could. Their movements became frantic, a need to touch, to be touched, to be connected.

  When finally, they came together as one, Robert felt such a rush of love for the woman in his arms. She gave him a sense of peace in his heart he never wanted to lose.

  He fitted his body to hers as their breath slowed, their heartbeats softened, and he gathered her in his arms and pulled her against his chest. Lily drew lazy circles on his chest, but didn’t speak.

  But, eventually the words not being said began to fill the room with expectation.

  “Have you tried to draw? Like those sketches?” Lily asked.

  The question jarred him. “Not yet.” Could he duplicate what he’d done before? Could he draw Lily in that way?

  Or the banknotes?

  The harsh reminder of what he had to tell her sucked the calm euphoria from him. He sat up.

  “Go ahead. Try,” Lily urged, obviously misreading his actions.

  He stared at the papers on the chair. They were one, husband and wife, together forever. He could tell her, and they could deal with it together.

  Something inside him held him back, but he fought that. He didn’t want secrets between them. He had to believe that Lily knew he wasn’t the same man who had turned to a life of crime instead of one as her husband.

  He slid from the bed, slipped on his pants and walked to the sideboard where a basin of water sat. He dipped his hands in the cold water, splashed his face.

  He had to believe he wasn’t the same man.

  “Robert?”

  At Lily’s uncertain tone, he grabbed a cloth and dried his face. Took a deep breath and turned around.

  Lily sat on the edge of the bed, the sheet wrapped around her in a deliciously evocative fashion.

  She held the sketches in her hand.

  The way her brow furrowed told him she had seen all of them. She grasped hold of one, and the others fell to her lap. “What are these?”

  “I can explain,” he said, though he didn’t think he could. He didn’t have the answers, he only knew what he’d been told.

  “Is this…” She stared at the paper, frowning. “This looks like a banknote. Why would you sketch banknotes?”

  “Lily, I—” The words felt like rocks on his tongue. His stomach constricted with knots.

  Her eyes grew wider, and she sucked in a breath. “You know what these are about. You remember.”

  “No.” His voice was a low gr
owl. “I don’t recall them, I haven’t…it isn’t that. Edwin told me.”

  “Told you what?” She set the paper down and tightened the sheet around her. “This has something to do with what those men want, doesn’t it? What did Edwin say?”

  Robert paused. He wished he could find a way to keep that look of love she’d offered him, but already it was beginning to shift in the furrow in her brow, the frightened doe set of her eyes, the thinning of her lips.

  “Robert.” Her words urged him with a quiet desperation. “Tell me.”

  “I drew them. The banknotes. I made…copies.”

  It took only seconds for the truth to set in and her mouth dropped. “Forgeries?”

  His shoulders hunched and the knots in his stomach gathered in a strangling grip. “Yes. That is what I did for those men. That is what they are looking for.”

  “You drew forged banknotes. And what, gave them to those men?”

  “I imagine I sold them. Being a criminal doesn’t make me a fool,” he said with a sarcasm completely uncalled for and utterly impossible to hold at bay.

  “Our money, what we have…the allowance you give me? That is made of…that money?” Her face had paled a few shades. “Oh dear God, my subscription library…the books I purchased…those were paid for with… The people I tried to help, and all the while you were…”

  “Your what? What library?”

  “When did Edwin tell you this?”

  Robert shut his eyes, trying to put a wall between him and the horror in her voice. “Before you came to me.”

  “You’ve known, all this time. You lied, all this time.”

  “I didn’t know what I knew! I only knew what he told me,” he countered. Anger at what he’d done, what he’d been, and what it was doing to them now festered like open wounds.

  “You and I talked about what they were looking for. I told my family we didn’t know. But you knew. Why didn’t you tell me? Why couldn’t you trust me?”

  “I can’t reconcile myself with that man, Lily.” He paced the room and stopped steps in front of her. He strived not to notice how her chest rose and fell. “The more I learn about myself, the less I like. The less I believe I have anything of value to offer.”