Gilding Lillian

by DawnMarie Richards

  “Lillian?”

  Reluctantly, she looked up over her cup to find her friend considering her most carefully.

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you go to Italy, marry the man there?”

  “I was unable to make the commitment he needed.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I was distracted.”

  “By what?”

  “Please.” Lillian willed herself to relax as she sipped her tea. “These questions are becoming tedious.”

  “Humor me,” Morgan insisted. “Who distracted you?”

  Lillian did not miss the change in subject from what to who. “Why ask the question if you already know the answer?”

  “Because I think you need to hear the answer.” She sighed before repeating, “Who distracted you, Lillian?”

  “Griffin Bennett.”

  “How did he distract you?”

  Lillian looked at her friend-turned-tormentor sharply, her patience depleted. “In every way—the way he looks at me, talks to me, touches me, occupies my thoughts. He is a constant intolerable distraction. He made it impossible for me to think. He made me question my purpose, my decisions. I had to get away from him. I had no choice. Can you not understand?” When Morgan didn’t respond, she continued, struggling against her rising irritation, “You have nothing to say? You’re just going to sit there staring at me with that strange expression on your face?”

  “I’m sorry, Lillian.” Morgan lifted her cup, obscuring her face. “Have you considered…” She took a sip before revealing her uneasy grin. “Have you considered the possibility you’re in love with him?”

  “Sorella,” Lillian scoffed, huffing into the steam rising from her mug. “I have no use for an emotion which defies logic.”

  “You may have no use for it, but that doesn’t make you immune.”

  “I am not a romantic like you. I am not in love with Griffin Bennett.”

  “You really do have an awful lot in common with my husband,” Morgan muttered under her breath, a secret smile plying her lips. “Fine, Lillian. Call it what you like. Whatever this…phenomenon …is, you can’t deny its effect. You’ve turned away a suitor. You’ve hidden yourself away. You’ve lied to your friends. You have had some time to think, so tell me. What is your plan? Because you have to do something. The situation is obviously not going to resolve itself. Unless, of course, you plan to live out the rest of your days incognito at the Copley.”

  Before she could respond, a cry from above drew both women’s gazes as if they could see through the ceiling into the bedrooms where the children stirred. Morgan rose from her seat, pushing in her chair but standing behind it, her hands folded over the cresting rail.

  “For what it’s worth, I’m not sure it’s such a terrible thing your feelings for Griffin have you considering new possibilities. Are you?”

  “Momma!”

  “Please think about it,” Morgan implored as she backed out of the room, turning at the last to trot out of sight.

  Lillian doubted she would be able to think about much else. But it hardly seemed to matter since she had left Griffin after he had declared his love for her. After such a rejection, he would never have her back. No, she’d made her decision. Better to leave things as they were—a clean break for both of them.

  Chapter 23

  “Mrs. Bennett?”

  “Ephie, dear, how are you?”

  “Fine. Missing you.”

  “How sweet you are. Might I come in for a moment?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” After a nervous laugh, Ephie moved to the side. “It was just…Please.” She waved Lillian in and then turned, closing the door behind her. “You’re supposed to be in Italy.”

  “My plans changed.”

  “Well, obviously. Are you staying?”

  “No,” Lillian rushed to tell her. “No. I happened to be in town, and I’d realized I’d left behind a couple of items and thought, since I was near…if I could just slip upstairs, I shouldn’t be more than a moment or two.”

  “Of course. Everything should be where you left it. Mr. Bennett hasn’t done anything with the room yet.”

  “He must be very busy with work.”

  “Something like that…”

  It seemed she wanted to say more, but distraction stole over her face. She reached into her pants pocket and pulled out her cell phone. Glancing at the screen, she frowned.

  “I’m sorry. I have to take this. You know the way.” She swept at the face of the device and lifted it to her ear. “This is Ephie Jones. Thank you for returning my call.” She smiled at Lillian as she listened to whoever was on her phone and then mouthed, take your time, before turning away.

  Lillian watched her former personal assistant saunter down the hall and into the kitchen. She missed the young woman as she missed most everything about her time as a Bennett. She sighed and moved toward the stairs.

  Standing in front of the door to the bedroom she had shared with Leonard for eleven years, she put her hand flat against the white painted wood and thought of the woman she had been then. Her place in the world had been as clear to her as her conscience. In a short time, it had all become a muddled mess. Taking a deep breath, she turned the knob and opened the door.

  The room appeared exactly the same as the day she had left it. She had imagined Griffin sleeping in here, and it had comforted her in some strange way. But it was quite obvious it had been a wishful thought. For whatever reason, he had avoided the space.

  Turning to her left, she looked across the expanse of the king-size bed and saw the item she had come for in its place on the bedside table. She trailed her fingertips over the familiar duvet as she walked around the bed. She sat on the edge of the mattress and reached for the framed photograph.

  She and Leonard stood together. He had been confined to a wheelchair most of the time by then, but he’d insisted on getting to his feet to have the picture taken. It had been their seventh anniversary and Lillian had wanted to make it an affair for him to remember. She’d been glad she’d made the effort. Not long after, his health had begun the inexorable decline which would lead to his death in a little over four years. She traced her fingers over the smiling faces in the cut crystal frame.

  They had been a good match, the two people in the photo. They had accomplished a lot in the years they’d been together. Leonard had mentored her in the complexities of running one of the country’s largest distribution businesses. As chairman, he’d demonstrated the considerable skill necessary to act as liaison between a diverse board of directors and the dynamic executive management team of BDI. She’d been a competent and quick study, earning his trust and admiration. In the end, his faith in her had been so complete he’d commended into her care not only his plans for the future of the company but, also, the sensitive task of convincing his estranged son to take his rightful place as the head of two great family’s legacies. She had managed both, never doubting her ability, but she had not foreseen the price she would pay.

  Somewhere, she had lost herself. Griffin had turned her world upside down, triggered a cataclysmic shift which had brought elements to the surface she had not been aware existed. What had Morgan told her? Love allows you to see the possibilities beyond reason. Lillian couldn’t deny there had been a change in her priorities. She’d never had a vision like she’d had watching Morgan with her children. The wish to know her friend’s obvious joy, no matter how fleeting, was as powerful as it was strange. And Lillian could not dismiss her relationship with Griffin as being instrumental in her broadening perspective.

  She thought back to the first time she had seen him, angry, grief-stricken and shockingly sexy. There had been an undeniable draw from the very beginning. She doubted even if she had known the terrible power he would ultimately wield over her she would have been able to resist their first ill-fated kiss. The attraction between them had been too primal, too elemental, to have been denied. It seemed their encounter had been fated, unavoidable.
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  She had no idea how to recover the woman she had been. More terrifying was the growing suspicion she didn’t want her back. Perhaps Morgan had been right. Perhaps it was time to give up fighting for what had seemed right in the past and start considering the potential of the future.

  Chapter 24

  The yellow cab in the driveway made Griffin wonder where Ephie might be headed. By the time he pulled into the garage and silenced the rumble of the Jaguar’s motor, his thoughts had returned to what he’d learned from Dylan over lunch.

  Lillian had never left. She’d been holed up in a hotel downtown, hiding from everyone including her two best friends, the Drumlins. Morgan discovered the secret when she’d bumped into Lillian in a boutique on Newbury Street. Suspecting her friend had stayed in town for more than the shopping, Mrs. Drumlin had come up with the brainstorm of having her over for tea while the boys went golfing.

  Griffin seriously had considered following Drumlin home. The knowledge Lillian was less than an hour’s drive away tormented him. He’d managed to suppress the impulse by remembering he’d already rendered himself prostrate and vulnerable, heedlessly offering his love to a woman who claimed to have no use for it. And for what? She’d left, regardless. He’d vowed, without malice or heat, he would only consider letting her back into his life if she came to him on her own. He’d done everything he could to convince her to stay. Hadn’t he?

  With an impatient grunt at the dizzying circle of his doubts, he got out of the car and headed into the house. The kitchen was empty, but he heard Ephie’s voice. He walked toward the sound and then knocked softly on her partially open office door.

  The look of panic on her face, when she turned and saw him standing there, told Griffin all he needed to know.

  “I…I’ll have to call you back,” she stammered, dropping her phone onto the top of her desk before rising to her feet.

  “Where is she?”

  “Master bedroom. She said she’d forgotten something. I’m sorry, I thought she’d be gone befo…”

  “It doesn’t matter.” He brushed off her apology as he headed for the rear staircase. “Get rid of the cab out front.”

  He took the stairs two at a time, adrenaline shooting through his veins. His fight or flight response had been triggered, and when he reached the landing he found himself pivoting between the hall and the stairwell. Part of him wanted to run, retrace his steps, get in his car, and drive until he was certain she was gone for good. The other part wanted to barge into the bedroom and, finally, break her down until she was as wracked and miserable as him. He leaned into the wall, his palms flat against the plaster, preventing his agitated oscillating. When his breathing calmed and his heart rate slowed, he pushed off and made his way down the hall.

  He opened the door, careful to be quiet. She sat on the far side of the bed, her back to him, her head lowered over a framed photo she held between her hands. It could be what she’d come for—the real reason she’d come back—though he didn’t want to believe it. Just in case, he drank in the sight of her, filled his lungs with her scent and let himself be intoxicated before revealing his presence.

  “Why are you here?”

  She stiffened, clutching the picture to her chest. After a moment, she rose to face him, the bed a barrier between them.

  “For this.” She held the frame out to him.

  He skirted the bed with controlled strides, halting an arm’s length away from her. He took the picture from her fingers, careful not to touch her.

  The photograph showed Lillian in a gorgeous, red satin dress. The bodice was pleated, a bust-shelf halter showcasing the burnished curves of her breasts. The skirt fit snug to her hips and flirted with the tops of her knees. Flower blossoms, stems, and leaves outlined in black embroidery twined over the fabric. A smattering of accent pearls and crystals reflected the light of the camera’s flash. And, of course, there were the shoes, the same ruby patent leather pumps she had worn to Leonard’s funeral. Her hair was styled in big, bouncy curls in a spot-on impression of a 1950s pin-up girl, complete with burgeoning crimson lips and dark-fringed eyes.

  She angled along her husband’s side, a solicitous hand on his chest. His father, in black tie and tails, had his arm around his beautiful wife, an arthritic hand on her hip. They looked expensive and well suited and—goddamn—happy. Whatever else she may or may not have done, Lillian had made his father happy, had made sure he was content and comfortable in his final days.

  “It was our anniversary. I threw a party for Leonard. He’d told me he missed the parties when he was a young man, when people would dress.” Her nervous rambling, so uncharacteristic, pained Griffin. “It was a harbor cruise. It was lovely. We had over two hundred guests. A perfect evening…one of the last times, well, it was lovely.”

  “I can see why you came back for it,” he told her calmly, handing back the frame and catching her gaze with his. “You both look happy. You made him happy, Lillian. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that.” He tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. “Thank you.”

  An uncomfortable silence stole around them as they stood considering one another.

  “How are you?” She looked surprised to hear her voice.

  “The same.” He paused, waiting to see if she would turn from his pain. When she didn’t, he softened his tone. “If you came here for reassurance—”

  “I didn’t.”

  He nodded. “Then, if there’s nothing else…”

  He turned sideways, pressing his body to the wall to give her enough room to pass. He looked at the floor, his throat aching with the crush of words he wanted to say but wouldn’t. His body pulsed with repressed desire he longed to vent but couldn’t. There was only one way they would ever have a chance, and it had to come from her.

  He sensed her coming near, heard each clipped step like a death knell. He almost groaned aloud when she walked passed him, but the next footfall never came. She stood somewhere to his left. He was certain if he reached out he would touch her, but he held his place.

  A subtle disturbance in the air had him lifting his head. He felt her palms on his cheeks before seeing the daring gamble in her gaze. He closed his eyes, afraid to believe, and then she was pressed against him, her lips whispering over his.

  He wrapped her in his arms, as much to keep himself from sinking to his knees with relief as for any other reason, and then deepened the kiss. She melted into him, her fingers traveling to meet at the back of his head and thread through his hair. Her lips parted on a sigh and he slid his tongue between them, eager to taste her. His senses overwhelmed, he lifted her and, taking two steps forward, tumbled her onto the bed.

  A frantic need consumed him. With shaking hands, he pushed her skirt up over her hips. He had a moment of satisfied amusement when he discovered the pair of filmy panties she wore beneath her dress. She may have left him, but his influences had not entirely left her. He carefully slid the delicate material over her hips and down her legs, dropping it off the end of the bed.

  He couldn’t get into her fast enough and cursed his fumbling fingers as he reached into his back pocket for his wallet and the “emergency” condom he hoped to hell was still there.

  “I’ve been with no one,” she said quietly.

  “Neither have I.” He looked down at her questioningly and then, at her subtle nod, tossed his unopened wallet onto the bedside table.

  Unable to be away from her even for the few seconds it would have taken him to strip out of his clothes, he simply unbuckled his belt and undid his fly. His erection free of its confines, he buried himself inside her.

  She closed her eyes, wrapping her legs around his waist as he slid his hands beneath her and hooked his fingers over her shoulders. He buried his face in her neck, wishing for time to quit, for this to be the end, to suffocate in her. Then the hunger took hold and he began to move, bringing them both toward the precipice they would inevitably tumble over.

  An insistent objective seized his
frenzied brain. Telling her hadn’t worked, but perhaps there was a way to express, with his body, what she meant to him. He had to find a way. She couldn’t leave him again. He loved her too desperately.

  But as the dark night sky became the cold, clear periwinkle of early morning, Griffin began to lose hope. It seemed impossible to speak of love with someone unable to hear.

  Chapter 25

  She didn’t know when the tears had begun. When Lillian had woken, her temples were already wet with their tracks, her pillow damp. She felt no grief or sadness but, try as she might, she could not cease their steady flow.

  Griffin slept deeply beside her. He’d succumbed to exhaustion as the first rays of sunlight had slanted across the bedroom walls. Abandoning words, he’d made love to her through the night. Instead of begging, he’d kissed her senseless. Instead of convincing, he’d compelled her with his tongue, his fingers, and his sex, propelling her from one glorious orgasm to another. When he had allowed her to rest, he’d kept her close, never allowing more than a few inches of distance between them as if worried she would slip from his careful embrace.

  His fearless vulnerability humbled her. She couldn’t, for the life of her, understand why he had chosen her for such a gift. She didn’t deserve it and had no idea how to honor it.

  “Lillian?”

  She turned away, squeezing her eyes shut against the damnable tears.

  He shifted beside her, cupping her damp cheek before she could prevent it.

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice thick. “I can’t seem to stop.”

  He turned her to face him. Whatever he saw had him pulling her tight. He rolled onto his back bringing her to lay over him. He held her face tenderly between his hands, wiping at her senseless tears with the pads of his thumbs.