“People are asking where the guest of honor is,” Blythe said with a smile. “They might think we sent you off to America already.”
“I would be fine with that.” Lily gave a half laugh, though she was half-serious.
“The longer you delay,” Aria said, “the more I am forced into conversations about embroidery.”
Blythe laughed. “You are not. There isn’t a woman down there who would discuss such things with you, for fear you would yawn, cut them direct and walk away from the conversation.”
Aria looked delighted. “Nonetheless, the time has come.”
Lily glanced at the paper again.
Cordelia followed her gaze. She frowned, strode over to it and crumpled it in her hands. “Forget this rubbish. They write about our lives because they have nothing better to do. Heaven forbid they write about something useful. Something newsworthy.”
“You mean like what Robert has done?”
“Yes. I mean no. Who cares? It’s not as if it’s common knowledge, no one knows about it, and you’ll be gone in two days anyhow. Let’s go downstairs.”
That clenching in Lily’s stomach returned. Her chest felt tight. Where had all the air in the room gone? She sucked in a shallow breath.
“You two go down,” Aria ordered. “I wish a word with Lily.”
Once Cordelia and Blythe had left, Aria said, “Deep breaths, and you’ll be fine.”
“I am not that woman.” She pointed to the paper. The air was so warm.
“A feeling I am well acquainted with,” Aria said with a smile. “I had no idea how to behave when I started attending events.”
“I thought you simply didn’t care.”
“That is somewhat my point. If you allow them to, they’ll dictate everything about who you are. When I came into society, people made assumptions that I was title hunting. I allowed that rumor to go unchallenged since it helped me search for information about my father. But I never claimed it as truth, and it’s a subtle but important distinction. Rumors define you if you let them. When you confirm it or argue its untruth, you let their words become a part of who you are. Let them imagine what they will. That is more about them than it is about you.”
They had moved toward the door, and Aria put a hand on Lily’s arm. “You don’t have to pretend. Whatever they expect of you tonight, be yourself.”
“Wonderful. Then I will stay up here and read a book.”
Aria laughed. “They want to be a part of your story, and they’ll make it up with or without you. Should someone corner you, I promise to come to your aide. That is sure to put them off. They tolerate me because they don’t wish to offend our family.”
“No, Blythe was right. They’re terrified of offending you. They know you don’t care.”
Aria’s lips curved. “Precisely.”
Lily answered with her own half-terrified smile. “If only I could pretend to be you.”
“Be yourself. It’s far more fun.” She laced her arm with Lily’s and they continued down the stairs.
As the noise of the crowd grew louder, lead weighted Lily’s feet until they dragged to a stop.
“You can do this.”
“I’m the one who reads the stories,” Lily told her. “I’m not the one in them.”
Aria gave her a gentle shove. “Then it’s time you write your own. There is no time like the present.”
Write her own story.
They descended into the crowd, and the buzz around them grew stronger.
Write her own story. What would that look like? If she could choose what her life would be, where her journey would take her, where would she end up?
What did she want?
Lily hadn’t asked herself that question in years. The last time she’d considered what she wanted, it had been Robert. Then their baby.
Then she’d stopped asking.
Perhaps she should have been more specific in her wishes. Happy with Robert. That would have been a good distinction to make, to start.
“Lady Lily?”
Lily turned at the soft, nervous voice and frowned when she saw the footman. “Yes, Charlie? What is it?”
“Please forgive me, my lady, but Mr. Melrose wishes to see you. He…he implored me to come straight to you and no one else.”
Lily’s heart flew up like a frantic bird from the knotted pit of fear that her stomach had become.
She looked about the room for her brother and spied him deep in conversation with a few of his peers from the House of Lords.
“Thank you. Where is he?”
“At the mews, I believe. He came round to the servants’ entrance.”
Lily was catapulted to the last time Robert had snuck into her house. That night was stamped in her memory like a chapter from her favorite book—or had been, until Cordelia had offered an alternate perspective.
Who had he come for? After all this time, Lily couldn’t believe the memory she’d cherished might not have been real.
Tonight, though, he’d asked for her.
After everything they’d faced, that should be the least of her thoughts. Yet, it was the foremost one.
Her heart pounding in her ears, Lily followed Charlie down the corridor and through to the kitchens, where the door let out to the back of the townhouse. As she opened the door, the cold blew in and she wrapped her arms around herself.
“Robert?” she called as she stepped down the few steps onto the cold ground. The ice in the air brushed her skin as though to paint it wet.
Robert emerged from the shadows, and the sight of him filled her with that same low pull in her belly, that desire to stand closer, to feel his warmth. With it came the familiar dousing of pain and uncertainty, an ice-cold bucket of emotion to remind her where they stood.
“You came. I wasn’t sure you would.” He frowned as she approached. “Where is your cloak? You’ll freeze.” He stripped off his coat and stepped closer until the heat from his body surrounded her. He lifted his arm over her shoulders, close enough she could have placed her head upon his chest. Let him surround her. Let him comfort her. He placed his coat around her, and his hands lingered as he fussed with the lapel. “There.”
His gentleness disarmed her. “I can’t stay.”
Robert looked past her for a moment. “You have company.”
Lily stuck her chin out. “It’s a goodbye party.”
“I see.”
“For me.”
“I see.”
Frustration laced her next words. “I am leaving for America tomorrow.”
He sucked in a breath. “I know.”
“After no contact at all, you lured me out to the mews to offer two-word replies? Robert, what did you come here for?”
“It was either this or not see you at all.”
“You chose to leave this house without a word.”
“Your brother extracted a promise, one I find impossible to keep without seeing you first. There are things I need to—”
“I gave Adam your sketches.” She had to tell him. Hiding it felt like a lie, and she was tired of lies.
“I know.” He reached a hand up to her face, and she fought the urge to lean into his warmth. “I am not angry.”
His softness, his pliability confused her. This was the man who had left her without a word or explanation as to his state of mind. She took a few steps away, feeling the layers of padding winding around her heart again. It put a blessed distance between them, one that had served to protect her many times when it came to Robert. “What is it you wished to tell me?”
“I am handling my…my situation.”
“What does that mean?”
He pursed his lips. “It’s better you don’t know.”
“More secrets?” She slung his jacket off her shoulders. “I was in the dark for the better part of our marriage. Your cryptic answers aren’t enough anymore.”
“I already put you in a dangerous situation. I cannot, no, I will not let that happen again. I don’t want y
ou to be any part of this.”
“Then why did you come here?”
He closed the space she’d put between them. “Because I can’t let you leave believing I didn’t love you. No matter what happens to me, I need you to know that.”
His words echoed in her head, left her with a dizzy feeling as though she’d whirled around in one too many circles. He loved her.
He loved her?
He’d never said that, not once over the years.
Then the rest of what he said came into focus. “What do you mean, what happens to you? What is going to happen to you?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Robert!” Frustration heightened her tone.
“No. I worked very hard to keep you separate from my life.”
“Well, thank you for coming to tell me that. It has certainly improved my day.” She handed his coat back to him.
“That didn’t come out as I intended. God, why can’t I say simple things to you?”
“I’d settle for the truth. You haven’t managed that in years, and it would appear now is no different.” She looked at this man she loved and who claimed to love her, and yet kept his entire life a secret from her. He’d kept everything separate.
“You were never supposed to be involved in what I was doing. I chose to enter the organization. That meant making certain nothing I did could touch you.”
Including you. She didn’t say the words, couldn’t say them.
“So you chose another life.” The missed opportunities lay like bricks between them, a chasm she couldn’t seem to cross. “You’re doing that again.”
“I am not—” He stopped. “No, I am not choosing another life over you. I am choosing you, Lily, above everything. Your safety.”
“My safety?”
“Yes, and your happiness. That just…it can’t be with me. Not now.”
“You told me that the day I told you I was leaving. The same exact words. Everything we’ve been through—nothing has changed for you, has it? It meant nothing.”
“Everything has changed.”
“Was any of it real? Did you feel anything for me?”
“My God, Lily, I love you.” He grabbed her hands. “I am not supposed to tell you this. I shouldn’t even be here. But yes. What you gave me, what we shared was more real than you can possibly know. You were the light in a very dark place. You were everything.”
He spoke in past tense. He spoke of what she had been to him, when he’d had nothing. But now that his memory had returned, she was dismissed.
She balled her fists. “How can you be this cruel? To dangle your love and then take it away? You won’t share your secrets with me but I can know they might put you in danger? What am I supposed to do, Robert? Tell me. What am I supposed to do?”
His eyes pleaded with her. “You are to go to America.”
The simple phrase splintered her, and up from the cracks came an anger so fierce, her body shook. “I am tired of your excuses. You decided the course of our marriage when you shut me out of it. When our baby died, when your mother died, instead of turning to me, you left. I bear some responsibility for pushing you, for not seeing outside of my own pain, but there was so much I didn’t know or understand.
Then you walked away the other day, without a word, without an explanation. Now, for whatever reason, you are twisting fate to your will once again. I will not be manipulated.”
“I am not trying to—Damn it, Lily, I made a promise.”
“What promise? To whom? You made promises to me! They were called our wedding vows.”
“I am doing the only thing I know to keep you safe.”
She stepped closer. “Tell me how, Robert. Tell me what you’ve learned, tell me who you are. Don’t keep me in the dark anymore.”
His face was drawn, his blue eyes dark with regret. “I never wanted you to be a part of what, of who I’ve become. I still don’t. I don’t want it to touch you.”
“It abducted me.”
“Which is why I need you to go.” He dropped his coat and reached out to her, grabbed her arms and yanked her close. His lips descended upon hers and heat coursed through Lily’s body, making her limbs liquid, setting her insides on fire. She put her arms around his neck, felt the need pulsing inside him. The desperation there.
But she couldn’t fight the cold truth seeping in. This was a goodbye kiss.
“Fight for me.” Her heart hammered in her chest and the heavy rush of grief, of a need never fulfilled overcame her. It was a challenge she knew he would refuse.
“I am. I am fighting for you.”
Lily broke free, stepped back. Her eyes felt painfully dry, even though her heart was drowning. “No, you aren’t. You are letting me go. That isn’t good enough anymore.”
She put her hand on the door and stopped.
She turned and found him unmoved, his gaze wild and desperate to lock with hers.
“Be happy, Lily. That is all I want for you.”
Lily walked into the house, even though her heart was breaking.
***
Robert closed the door to his carriage. He was exhausted— physically, emotionally and his night had just begun.
Every bloody word that came out of his mouth had been opposite his intent. He’d gone there to assure of his love, to give her what she needed to move on with her life. So she would know, always, how much she meant to him.
Bloody hell, he’d wanted her to know it was her letter he’d answered and he hadn’t even done that.
Everything he’d said had hurt her more. The bitter taste of regret bit his tongue, and he thought of what Adam had said. He’d been right.
All Robert had done was cause her pain. The sadness on her face had hollowed out his heart.
He lifted the hatch to speak to his driver. “Lebrawn Street.”
His gaze drifted to the box next to him. He’d set up the meeting. He’d finished the plates.
He’d done his part. Now he needed to trust that Marcus and Lily’s brothers had done theirs.
The idea did not calm his nerves.
The minutes it took to cross the city, still clogged with traffic at this hour, felt like seconds, leaving him precious little time to say the prayers that might get him into heaven.
Not that he imagined the Almighty was listening to him, but it couldn’t hurt to make an attempt.
The carriage slowed and Robert stared at the empty seat across from him. The low-slung whack of grief hit with a vengeance. He missed Edwin’s calming presence. Robert had a hired footman, a brick wall of a young man, to accompany him. But this was a stranger without the loyalty that Edwin had showed, and Robert wasn’t certain he was all that safe.
He grabbed the box and pushed the door open. The night was dark, lit by a quarter moon that cast more shadows than light. In this area of town, the moon itself hid from view.
What if they failed?
This was the organization’s turf. Not his. Not one his well-dressed, well-connected Marquess brother held sway. Even the constables and runners couldn’t guarantee the outcome.
The young footman stopped at his side. No turning back now.
They walked down the alley to the familiar door of the pub. The room was near empty, expect for a small group of men who sat around a table, mugs of ale at one hand. Knives or other weapons at the ready with the other. Kane’s men.
Robert slowed as he stepped into the room. He was a blithering idiot to go along with this. Hell, he’d suggested it.
The men turned as he walked in. But Robert kept his head straight, gathered the arrogance that offered his best defense like a cloak around him and strode toward the rooms where Kane did business. He counted three men in the room. A miserly lot this night, and relief spurted through him at that.
He’d left the particulars to Marcus, assuming Marcus’s plan included a way of getting him out safely.
But dread slithered under his skin as he moved to the back room. His muscles twitched.
Robert strode to the table and set the box down. “Here. I shall deliver five more within a fortnight.”
Kane stood, which shouldn’t pose a threat given his short stature. But the movement was a signal, and the four men in the room faced in, forming a semi-circle. Kane reached out to the box, opened it, and inspected the plates Robert had finished that day.
“I should kill you,” Kane said. The casual toss of his words made the hair on Robert’s arms stand up.
“You can’t kill me.” Robert’s false bravado was far removed from his churning gut. “A dead man can’t etch a plate.”
Kane dropped the plate back into the box and nodded at one of the men, who took it. “How is your wife?”
“Leaving, thank God.” Robert had a knife in his boot. “She’s leaving the country. Can’t leave soon enough to my way of thinking.” He could kill Kane in one swift movement. Even if it cost his own life.
“Then ye won’t mind if we delay her a bit and keep her nearby, just to be certain you do as yer told.”
“Do what you want with her; it makes no difference to me.”
Kane came around the table. “Anything? She seemed ripe for the taking.”
Robert’s hand twitched and it fisted until his nails bit into his skin. “She’s a cold fish.” His blood roared in his head.
Kane watched him for a minute, then let out a cackle. “Yer a cold bastard, ain’t ya?”
Yells erupted from the other room, and a loud bang reverberated through the dulled level of noise.
“What the hell?” Kane flashed toward him, a dagger in his fist. Robert snatched the knife from his side and faced off.
Kane slashed out. Robert sprang to the side, brought his arm around at Kane. Kane jumped sideways, then lunged forward with his knife.
He couldn’t take his eyes from the small, but deadly man in front of him, but felt the rush of force that barreled into the room and surrounded them. In all directions, men came at them.
Kane slashed out again. Robert dove to the right, but the sharp sting of the blade sliced at his side. He lunged at the smaller man and tackled him to the ground, the pain from his side piercing through him as they landed. Kane shoved at Robert and then came at him. He brought his hand up, knife aimed at Robert’s heart, and Robert grabbed his wrist.
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