“I beg to differ, Miss Lancaster.” The steely, deep voice that came from behind her caused her to gasp.
She whirled around, and the shock of seeing Lord Edgeworth leaning negligently in her doorway made her sway. She gripped the desk once more. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to hear you say your childhood dreams aren’t important.”
Cringing, Lillian stared across the small room at Lord Edgeworth. His state of dress was nothing short of shocking. He lacked a coat and cravat, and his white shirt, which stretched across his broad shoulders in a way that made her stomach flip, was open at the collar and rolled up at the sleeves to display incredibly muscular forearms. The tan breeches he wore molded against his well-built thighs and made her wonder if he would feel as hard as he looked. A blush seared her cheeks, and she trembled where she stood. “They aren’t.”
“Let me be the judge of that,” he said, pushing off from the door frame, his long-legged stride echoing in the silent room.
He stopped directly in front of her, the scent of leather and―she sniffed and frowned―the man smelled of spirits. “Have you been drinking?”
A bark of laughter escaped him. “No. The physician doused my arm in alcohol before he sewed me up.
“I’ll just leave you two alone,” Beatrice squeaked rushing out of the room quicker than Lillian had seen her move in years.
Lillian frowned and faced Lord Edgeworth. “Why did you need to be sewn up?”
“I shot a man,” he said without emotion.
“Yet you needed care? I’d like the rest of the story, please.” There always was more, with men.
Lord Edgeworth shrugged, though his gaze was intense. “He shot me too. End of tale.”
A terrible suspicion took hold of her. “Please tell me you didn’t shoot Lord Derwent.”
Lord Edgeworth’s jaw hardened as he looked down at her. “You put me in a precarious position.”
“I what?” Was the man daft? “How have I put you in any position?” Her tone was high and shrill. Good Lord, it was as if they were already married.
“You told me not to tell you I’d shot Lord Derwent, yet I very specifically vowed never to lie to you. So do you want the truth, or shall I lie and break my promise?” He cocked his head to the side, waiting on her answer.
She searched his face, sure he must be joking, but he appeared serious. Good Lord. The man had defended her honor because of the story she’d told him. For a moment, gratitude flooded through her, making her lightheaded, but fast on the heels of appreciation came fear. Not for Lord Derwent. The man deserved to be shot, possibly killed so he would never do to another woman what he’d done to her. Yet she did feel bad wishing anyone, even someone as vile as Lord Derwent, dead. More concerning than her bad wishes for Lord Derwent was how her heart felt as if it had just been cracked open and Lord Edgeworth had slipped inside.
She swallowed. “Is Lord Derwent dead?” Her voice wobbled. She prayed Lord Edgeworth didn’t notice.
He touched her cheek very briefly and so lightly she wasn’t entirely certain after his hand dropped away if she had simply imagined he’d touched her. He shook his head as he stared intently at her. “He’s alive, but I’m told it’s likely he’ll never have full use of his right leg again. He may even lose it to infection. And you can be sure he won’t repeat a word about your shared past. I explained to him that I’d be back to shoot him in the heart if I heard a peep of impropriety from him.”
Lillian squeezed her eyes shut in shame and shock. Lord Edgeworth knew she was soiled, yet didn’t seem to find her lacking. He appeared to find her worth defending. She swallowed the need to cry or throw herself into his arms. It was a good thing he never wanted to live as man and wife, because she suspected too much time around him would weaken her defenses and make her long for a love she didn’t think she was capable of giving or receiving. When he pulled her into his embrace, she opened her eyes and cocked her head. “Thank you.”
“No thanks are necessary.” His voice was husky.
Standing so close to him, she couldn’t think what else to say. Her mind spun with one thought. In this moment, she didn’t fear him or his touch, and she couldn’t decide whether it was a good or bad thing.
He pulled back and looked at her. His green eyes darkened and hardened. “When I think of what he did to you, I want to kill him.”
The fury in her husband-to-be’s voice amazed her. Why, it was as if―no. Surely, Lord Edgeworth didn’t care about her. He didn’t even know her. And she didn’t want him to care. Did she? This was nonsense. “I’m glad you didn’t,” she said flippantly. I could never marry a murderer.”
“What else could you never do?” Lord Edgeworth’s voice held a seductive quality.
Lillian didn’t like the way he suddenly looked as if wanted to ravish her. She scrambled back a step while he moved forward leaving a hairbreadth space between them. All the same, the smoldering flame in his gaze worried her.
He leaned closer, so his heat enveloped her. She sucked in a breath when his unshaven cheek brushed against hers.
“What are you doing?” Her pulse thundered.
He turned his head, their gazes meeting. “I find I desperately want to kiss you. May I?”
She gulped. “Before the wedding?”
He nodded. “I know you’re scared, but I swear on my honor I won’t hurt you. I’ll stop the moment you want me to.”
Her stomach flipped. “I thought you said you misplaced your honor a long time ago?”
“Yes, but you assured me, I hadn’t. Remember?” His words were tinged with humor.
She had said that. Lord Edgeworth was not Lord Derwent. She had to get control of herself. This man was to be her husband. She could allow him a single kiss. “Very well, Lord Edgeworth.”
He laughed low and throaty. “Your enthusiasm heartens me.”
She glared and squeezed her eyes shut. “Get on with it.”
Her scalp tingled as he slid his fingertips into her hair and gently tilted her head back. She expected his mouth to come crushing over hers, but when his lips brushed the tender flesh of her ear, shock caused her to open her eyes. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead and then cupped her face as he moved his mouth over hers. His kiss was unlike anything she’d ever experienced―a coaxing whisper that caused her to whimper for more. She swayed towards him until her chest was crushed against his hard body. He moved his lips urgently over hers, his tongue pressing at her teeth until with a ragged sigh, she opened for him.
He tasted of whiskey she'd never known she wanted but now longed to drink. She reached up and plunged her hands into his hair to draw him even closer. He sucked her tongue with long, lavish pulls that made the fluttering in her stomach turn to a battering she feared would cause her knees to give. She locked them in place to stop the shaking.
The seductive assault on her mouth lessened. Was he ending the embrace? Suddenly, he kissed a searing path across her neck. The feather soft touches promised something tender she’d never known. She moaned and threw her head back. All at once, the bodice of her dress was tugged down, and Lord Edgeworth’s thick hair tickled her chin as he lowered his head and kissed the top of her chest. Desire made her sway, but just when she started to lose her balance his hand came roughly around her waist to hold her up. A memory she’d shoved to the dark recesses of her mind reared and stiffened her limbs.
Abruptly, everything wonderful was replaced by the vivid recollection of when Lord Derwent took her innocence on that first day with him. He’d pressed her against a wall, locking her in place with his thick arm. She’d never had a chance against him. Tears stung her eyes. She shoved at Lord Edgeworth. “Stop it. Stop it. Please, release me.”
Underneath her fingertips, the muscles of his biceps jumped as he jerked up and freed her. Wincing, he tugged his hands through his hair. “Lillian, I’m sorry. I meant only to kiss you.” His breath was ragged and tight.
He’d called he
r Lillian as if he had the right. Of course he did. They were to be married. She pulled her bodice into place with shaking hands. “I’m sorry as well. I knew I would disappoint you. I promise not to be such a ninny on our wedding night. I’ll do my duty by you.”
Lord Edgeworth covered her hands gently and stilled the trembling. “There’s nothing I want less than a wife who simply lays there and does her duty because she must and not because she desires me.”
Lillian’s breath caught. “I thought you didn’t want a wife. Ours will not be a real marriage. Remember?” The idea he’d changed his mind sent an icy tendril of fear sliding over her skin. As long as he kept his word and they stuck to the bargain they’d struck, she could continue in her safe, albeit lonely, existence. The thought depressed her more than usual.
He ran a finger down her cheek. “I’ve hardly forgotten how I feel about marriage. Still…that doesn’t mean I want to bed a woman who fears the act.”
Lillian tensed. “Quit speaking in riddles. Are you saying you don’t want to marry me because of my fear of intimacy?”
“Au contraire, Lillian, my dear. I’m saying I won’t bed you until you beg me to.”
The word “beg” made her skin crawl. It was something Lord Derwent would have said to her. “I’ll never be forced to beg another man for anything again, Lord Edgeworth.”
His gaze narrowed. “Call me Nick, please.”
She clenched her teeth, but after a moment forced herself to relax enough to speak. “Nick, I will never beg you to bed me. Ever.”
His face turned savage. “I should’ve killed Lord Derwent. What did that bastard do to you?”
She circled her arms around her waist, wishing she could hide. She hated feeling exposed. “I’ll never recount that time with you simply so you can examine what I already know. The particulars of what Lord Derwent did to me no longer matter. All I can tell you is he killed a part of me. You can marry me as I am or you are free to go. I’ll survive somehow. I always do.” She squelched the bitter laugh that wanted to escape. She was strong enough to carry on but not to forget and move on from the bad memories.
His gaze softened. “I’ll marry you as you are. And I’m going to teach you the difference in begging to be bedded because of fear and begging to be bedded out of longing.” The determination in his eyes frightened her. What if he succeeded? Letting down her defenses was something she’d vowed to never do. She notched up her chin. “You can try and teach me whatever you like as long as our bargain remains intact. We live separately and you give me the theatre and my money before we are married. Oh, and you promise to use preventive measures when we’re together.”
He smiled a slow smile that made her heart skip a beat. “I’ve already had the marriage contract drawn up. The special license from the Archbishop of Canterbury should be delivered to my house tomorrow. Rest assured I’ll take care of all your other requirements.”
Relief made her dizzy. Gripping the side of the desk, she spoke. “Wonderful. Then all you need to tell me is when and where to show up and I’ll see you there.”
A mischievous look glittered in his eyes. “There are a few more things I’d like discuss before I go.”
“Such as?”
“Tell me, what sort of wedding did you dream of as a child?”
His question stunned her. He really had been listening at the door earlier. His concern for her sensibilities touched her. “I really couldn’t say.” She looked down because that wasn’t entirely true.
“Come now.” He spoke softly. “I know you had some wishes for your wedding day. I’m begging you to share them with me, and I vow I’ve never pleaded with a woman for anything. You’re the first.”
She glanced up and blinked at his earnest gaze. Something inside of her softened, and she sighed. “When I was young, and still a silly girl, I fantasized I would one day have a wedding where I would actually have a new dress to wear, and a family member who loved me standing as my witness and I would dance.”
“Dance? At your wedding breakfast?” He quirked his eyebrows up.
Her face grew hot with embarrassment. “As I said, it was a silly girl’s ridiculous longings. I never owned anything new. I never had any family that loved me. And I’ve never been asked to dance.” She shrugged. “I’m older and much wiser now. Tell me where to go to marry you, and I will.”
He grinned and proffered his elbow to her.
“Are you leaving?” She gripped his arm and fell into step beside him.
“I’m taking you to get a new dress.”
“What?” Shock stilled her step. “No, no. You mustn’t do that. We have a bargain.”
His mouth twitched into a smile. “I’m not breaking our bargain. We will enter into a marriage of convenience in two days. Nothing more, rest assured.”
“Oh.” For some inane reason his words hurt her feelings. “Then why do you want to take me to buy a dress?”
He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Just because we aren’t in love doesn’t mean I don’t want my future wife to look nice. I have appearances to keep, you know.”
What he said made perfect sense, but he had a mischievous look in his eyes. Yet, if he was telling the truth, she certainly didn’t want to embarrass him by appearing in an old gown. “I suppose one dress won’t change our bargain.”
“Wonderful.” He released her hand and slipped his arm around her waist. With a squeeze he said, “You won’t regret this.”
She followed him down the hall silently. Already, she was lamenting her capitulation. His hand remained on her waist and the confusing thing was she rather liked it there.
Nick held the door of the theatre open for Lillian. Uncertainty bombarded him. What had possessed him to offer to take Lillian to purchase a new dress? He glanced at her. Her hips swayed suggestively as she walked ahead of him down the thirty odd steps and onto the sidewalk. His groin tightened watching her. It was rather ironic that he’d not desired a woman in ages, and when his lust did finally reawaken it was for a woman wary to be touched. That was problematic enough, but compounding his unease was the idea that he wanted his future wife so much he was willing to take her dress shopping.
He’d meant what he said about marriage. After what he’d done to Amelia, he didn’t deserve to fall in love. He jerked a hand through his hair. This was preposterous. He didn’t love Lillian. He didn’t know her. This was lust―pure and simple.
At the sight of a filthy beggar man and a child striding up to Lillian, Nick shoved the troubling thoughts aside and strode down the steps. By the time he reached the street, Lillian was kneeling down to pick up the dirty child. What the devil? No telling what sort of sickness those two vagabonds carried. “Lillian,” he called sharply as he rushed across the space to her side.
She swung around to face him, the dirt-smeared child resting on her hip. “Yes?”
“Set the child down.”
She frowned. “Don’t be silly. This little girl was just telling me about her papa and how he’s looking for work.”
Nick’s chest tightened at her utter lack of snobbery and the protective way she held the little girl. Lillian was a special woman. Damnation. He was a fool. He wasn’t taking Lillian dress shopping because he desired her. Well, he did want her, but that wasn’t what had provoked him to open his mouth and offer this little trip. He genuinely liked her. That was worse than wanting to bed her.
Earlier when he’d heard her admit the childhood dreams of the things she’d longed for on her wedding day he’d ached for her and the life she’d led. A yearning to make her dreams come true had taken hold of him. Lillian laughed at something the child said. The silver bell sound made Nick smile. How long had it been since he’d smiled and felt this light inside? This woman did strange things to him.
He pulled out some coins and held them toward the man. “To help you get by.”
The man shook his head and Lillian gave Nick a peculiar look. Was she shocked he’d offered to help? Did she think so little of h
im? He hoped not. Wait, no. He wasn’t supposed to care what Lillian thought of him. She set the child to the ground and stood. “Mr. Lister is going to work for me at the theatre cleaning up after the shows.”
“Oh, I see.” Pride swelled inside of Nick, which perplexed him. He had no right nor did he want to feel that way about Lillian, yet he did. The thing to do was keep his guard up around her and not try and seduce her as he’d previously considered. He took a step away. “I’ll just wait in the carriage while you conduct your business.”
Lillian gave him another odd look then nodded. “I should only be a moment.”
True to her word, Lillian climbed into the carriage not more than a few minutes after he did. As she settled in, Nick couldn’t help but stare at her. Though he’d told himself he wouldn’t draw her into conversation he found he wanted to. And why not? He had to make sure his future wife made wise choices, didn’t he? Even if it was just a marriage of convenience ensuring Lillian didn’t endanger herself by hiring a man she barely knew was Nick’s responsibility. Lillian had her face turned to the window. Nick cleared his throat to get her attention, but when she remained turned away he spoke. “Lillian.”
She looked at him with her vibrant green gaze, and his chest did that odd tightening again. Absently, he rubbed it. “Do you think it’s wise to hire a man you barely know?”
“He’ll be sweeping floors, not dealing with my money or anything really pertaining to the theatre, so I don’t see the harm. Besides, he needs to earn a living to care for his daughter. If I don’t give him this chance mayhap he’ll try to sell the child or abandon her.”
Glancing back out the window, Lillian shuddered and Nick forced himself not to move across the carriage to her seat and wrap his arms around her. She had to be thinking of her past and what her father had done to her. His throat constricted with foreign emotions. He admired Lillian’s strength and how she’d managed to pick herself up and keep going after all that had happened to her.
Season For Surrender (A Danby Family Novella Book 2) Page 4