Mr. Sanderson had aged since she’d last seen him. He’d been a happy-go-lucky fellow, quick to smile and laugh, the perfect complement to Willa. Tonight, his expression was dark and brooding. He stared into a tumbler of amber liquid, not contributing to the conversation around him. His dark hair was neat and pulled back from his face, and he struck a commanding figure in his red uniform. But the misery etched into every line of his body spoke volumes.
If Willa noticed his foul mood, it didn’t lessen her enthusiasm. With a tight grip on her sister’s arm, Lily led the way to the hosts. “We must greet Lord and Lady Breeding first.”
Something akin to pain flittered across Willa’s expression, buried the second after it was released. “Quickly,” she bit off.
Didn’t she notice how he had changed? Lily swallowed hard, struggling to hide her unease.
Lord and Lady Breeding stood by the window, playing the gracious hosts. The couple had twenty years between them, the lord gray and fat next to his thin, youthful wife. Despite the late hour, the drapes were drawn to show the street beyond, and Lady Breeding snuck a glance outside. Was she waiting for someone of import? When Lily and Willa approached within speaking distance, the austere woman greeted them solemnly. “Mrs. Darling, Miss Bancroft. How good of you to come.”
Lily dipped in a shallow curtsy, just deep enough to be polite. When Willa remained rigid at her side, half turned to stare over her shoulder, Lily elbowed her in the ribs. Willa gasped and sank into a far less graceful curtsy. She ruined the gesture by glaring at Lily afterward.
Thankfully, Lady Breeding didn’t appear to be paying the least bit of attention to Willa. Her focus was divided between the window and Lily.
“Thank you for the invitation. It’s our pleasure to attend.”
A dainty furrow formed in Lady Breeding’s forehead. “Yes, well, I was astonished to hear that it would only be the two of you. Was your husband not at his leisure to accept?”
Lily had known she was rubbing salt into her wound by openly coming here as a married chaperone. Although everyone undoubtedly recalled that she was married, if she did not point to the fact, they often forgot that her husband existed. After all, for all intents and purposes, he hadn’t existed for the past four years. From the moment he’d walked out of her life, she had been on her own. And with her family to care for, no less.
She swallowed thickly as the excuse she gave everyone bubbled to her lips. “I’m afraid he had business. He sends his regrets.”
Adam Darling did not regret what he did to her nearly as much as he ought to. Anger burned beneath her skin like buried embers, but Lily held herself in check. Tonight was not about Adam. It was not about her. It was about Willa.
“Miss Bancroft, I see you’re eager to speak with Cindy. Don’t be shy. I’ll speak with your sister a moment longer.”
Willa didn’t hear the edge of danger in the hostess’s voice, but Lily did. She stiffened like a shield, ready to rebuff whatever the older woman had in store for her.
With a bright smile, Willa gave a far more graceful curtsy before she hurried off.
Lily’s nerves cracked like a chestnut shell. She clasped her hands hard in front of her stomach, fighting the tumult that swept through her. Nothing a peer could do to her could possibly be worse than the hardships she faced every day.
Lady Breeding fixed her attention on Lily with a hawkish, predatory expression. “Your dear sister has been joining us in Hyde Park often, of late.”
“Willa has delighted in these visits. I believe she’s grown very close to your daughter. I appreciate you taking her under your wing. It’s very kind of you.”
“Of course,” the lady said, drawing out the two words with venom. “I could not fathom acting in any other way. I was so taken aback to discover her walking there unchaperoned the first time. Why, if my daughter and I had not been there, who knows what ill might have befallen her.”
The accusation sank its hooks beneath Lily’s skin and threatened to pull away the cool mask she had in place. Willa was a woman grown. She ought to have thought of her own reputation before leaving the house. Not to mention her safety.
I speak with men alone every day.
As an artisan, a shopkeeper. Lily’s gender and marital status mattered less when le bon ton wasn’t looming in the shadows. Men of the rich families and of the peerage thought themselves entitled to take liberties, as though it were their due. Lily had always abhorred the devil-may-care demeanors they presented, hiding the monsters within.
Adam had hated them, too, which was why he’d had no qualms about targeting their families. Or had he only used their behaviors as an excuse to justify his own? He might even be one of them, for all Lily knew. He had been able to blend among High Society as though born to it, a chameleon lying in wait for his prey.
Lily pushed Adam from her mind and focused on the viper attacking her family name. Through gritted teeth, she managed, “We thank you for saving her from such a horrendous fate.”
No matter what, Lily couldn’t make excuses. The ton knew of the family business, of course. However, knowing the family made jewelry and openly admitting that her time was monopolized by the shop were two very different things. Lady Breeding needed no further fodder to turn them into a spectacle. Lily’s chest ached as she realized that Sophie had been correct. Willa had been invited tonight as entertainment.
Her sister deserved better.
“If you’ll excuse me, my lady, I should return to my sister. As you know, she does have the tendency to wander off.”
Lady Breeding, who had clearly delighted in the conversation, nodded a sour-faced dismissal. Her husband, on the other hand, wasn’t as easily swayed. Although Lily hadn’t thought him attendant upon the conversation, as she rose from her curtsy and turned to leave, he caught her by the hand. Despite his infirm appearance, his grip was tight. Towing her closer, he enclosed their conjoined hands with his free one, effectively trapping her.
Thank heavens for gloves.
Lord Breeding wasn’t much taller than she, but she was altogether too aware of his bulk when standing so near. She reflexively curled her fingers and tested his grasp, to no avail. The whispers eddying around her seemed to isolate her further. If she didn’t extricate herself from him soon, his wife might notice and bring her censure down upon both Bancroft women. The rumors, should she draw attention to herself, were every bit as likely to ruin them.
Willa relied upon her. However, with the bitter Madeira on Lord Breeding’s breath, Lily couldn’t think straight. When coupled with the gleam in his eye as his gaze followed the curve of her neck to her décolletage, she battled outright revulsion. Surely she was misreading the situation. Zeus, his wife stood next to them!
“So good for you to come tonight, Mrs. Darling. Will you allow me the honor of escorting you to dinner?”
Her breath whistled through her teeth. That dubious honor was reserved for the highest in rank at the dinner party. Lily was so far from that woman that they might have lived a continent apart. “You flatter me, my lord. What would Lady Perry think if you were to spurn her company?” The edges of Lily’s mouth quivered with the effort of maintaining her smile. The palm of her glove dampened with her sweat.
Lord Breeding harrumphed. “That old biddy? If you can call her company. If it were up to me, she would not have been invited.”
Lily nearly gasped in relief as he released her hand in order to wag his finger.
“You save your hand for me at dinner.”
The arrogant finality of his tone brooked no argument. Free, Lily curtsied again, this time out of arm’s reach. Praying that he was going senile and would soon forget the conversation, she acquiesced with a mumbled promise.
If Lady Breeding noticed, she was too far absorbed in squinting through the window pane to intervene.
Lily escaped without another word. The thick o
riental rugs muffled her footsteps as she navigated the modest gathering, skirting along the panoramic wallpaper encircling the room as she searched for her sister. As she walked the perimeter, she seemed to walk the world— Here, the hosts had arranged tribal masks from Africa; here, delicate painted china; here, small ivory statues of elephants with their trunks raised. It was all arranged to effect, not a flaw in the polished shelves housing their treasures, not a stain on the rich furniture. As far as Lily could tell, Lady Breeding might have purchased the entire room on a whim before holding the dinner party. However extravagant the cost.
In the far corner of the room, Miss Breeding entertained a circle of two men and three women, all fawning over her words as she related a droll tale. Although she resembled the delicacy of her mother, she shared Willa’s vibrancy.
Not, unfortunately, Willa’s company. No, despite her excuse to the hostess, Willa had crossed directly to the stool in front of Mr. Sanderson, where she perched next to his ankle. Both wore expressions of pain, his directed at the wall.
Stepping past two older women twittering behind their fans and eyeing Willa with disdain, Lily clenched her fists. Her chest burned, though with anger or embarrassment she couldn’t decide. Most of all, she wanted to cry at the look on her sister’s face.
More so when she stepped within earshot.
“You have my answer, Miss Bancroft. I cannot keep your company any longer.”
Willa wrapped one arm around her waist as though she were about to turn out her lunch. She pressed the other to her lips, turning her face down. Although Lily’s imagination conjured immeasurable pain in her sister’s posture, Mr. Sanderson’s emotions were etched entirely too vividly on his face. Not a shred of warm feeling lived in his expression. He looked as though he would rather be in the middle of the battlefield than speaking to Willa at that moment.
“Why? Because of your injury? I don’t give a—”
“Because you’re a standing joke,” he bit out.
Willa recoiled as if slapped. She sat rigidly still, not even the rise and fall of her shoulders betraying her breaths.
Mr. Sanderson grimaced. “Don’t paint me to be the villain, Willa. We never had an understanding. I left to make my place in the world and you lost yours. That’s all there is to it, and I’ve higher prospects now.”
Willa jumped to her feet, balling her fists. “What prospects? No one wants to speak with a miser like you.” She turned, her eyes glimmering with tears that threatened to spill from her eyelashes. Lily intercepted her before she took two steps.
She should have known. They hovered a kiss away from poverty. She should have known that Mr. Sanderson would learn of their circumstance and spurn her sister. He hadn’t offered for her years ago because he hadn’t had the blunt to give her the life she deserved. And now, she had nothing to supplement his income.
If not him, who would take Willa to the altar? No one. No one would deliver them from the fate haunting their doorstep.
No one but Lily. Reid had offered her an impossible proposal. Now, she had no choice but to do his bidding.
The notion sickened her. Shoving aside her moral quandaries, she clasped Willa’s shoulders in her hands instead. “We don’t have to stay. We can leave.”
Willa recoiled, wiping her damp cheek. “No. I will not give him the satisfaction. Give me a moment in the withdrawing room to recover. I’ll survive the evening with my head held high.”
Lily heart twisted in her chest like a wrung rag. When had Willa grown so strong? She used to turn into a watering pot at the least slight. Lily held out her hand with a proud smile. “Come.” Heedless to the whispers she roused, she whisked her sister from the parlor.
At the door to the withdrawing room, Willa urged her to leave with the flutter of her hands. “Please, Lily. I’d prefer to be alone. If you stay, I’ll start to cry and—” She sucked an audible breath and stepped backward into the room, shutting the door with force.
Lily wasn’t the only one with tears blurring her vision. She breathed in the choking scent of potpourri and rested her back against the door. How could he? If Sanderson had ever loved her sister, how could that vile man rip out her heart in front of the entire room? He was hailed a war hero, but there was nothing heroic in him. In fact, the only person she abhorred more was Adam.
At least he had had the decency to break her heart without witnesses.
Lily wanted nothing more than to wring Mr. Sanderson’s neck and demand he make recompense. However, her sister wanted to face this rejection with dignity, and Lily…
Hell and damnation. With Willa’s marriage prospect turning tail, Lily had no recourse but to descend to Adam’s level. As of this moment, she must begin planning the heist of an item she could not care less for, in order to deliver it to a man who had become little better than a stranger. If it saved her sisters… As Machiavelli had said, the ends justified the means, didn’t they? Lily wiped her hands on her dress and braced herself to return to the gathering.
Someone attending tonight must be mad for Egyptian antiquities. Once she found them, it was Lily’s duty to charm herself into their good graces. That—and a healthy dollop of research—had always been Adam’s first step.
If she’d gained nothing else from their association, at least Lily had learned from the best.
And now she had work to accomplish.
Chapter Four
Adam overstepped himself. Every minute he stayed in London, every whisper of Lily’s name, pressed that fundamental fact deeper into his skin. And, knowing a great many people in London, he heard a great many whispers.
One of them from Lord Breeding at the club, expressing his pleasure that Adam’s wife had accepted an invitation to their dinner party. If the old lecher had not proceeded to ask a series of increasingly inappropriate questions about Adam’s rein on his wife and whether theirs was a happy and fulfilling marriage, Adam might not have given the soiree a second thought. However much she hated him, he would not abandon her to the disrespect of this reprobate. Lily deserved better. From the distasteful lord and from Adam.
Now, if only he lasted the night without upending his drink on Lord Breeding’s vile head. Despite his history in the navy, Adam was not a violent man. He’d witnessed enough carnage for one lifetime. However, if that cad touched his wife, he’d make an exception. Or he’d revert to his usual method of revenge when dealing with the rubbish who mistreated those under their care. A word in the right ears and Lord Breeding’s investments would fail overnight.
Adam didn’t do that sort of thing anymore. Before he’d offered for Lily, he’d squared away enough blunt to hold them for life—at least, until it had been claimed along with her dowry by her so-called friend Chatterley. However, for Lily, he’d resolved to retire and he’d held to that unspoken vow, working honest jobs over the four years it had taken to scrounge the money together to purchase the estate he would use to make amends to the only woman he had ever loved. He didn’t regret the menial labor, nor the backbreaking work to build Lily’s future. With her, he lacked for nothing.
“Mr. Adam Darling,” the butler announced.
The chatter of the two dozen occupants of Lord Breeding’s sitting room ceased abruptly. Adam feigned confidence as he swaggered into the room. He scanned the guests, his mouth as dry as chalk. Where is she?
There. Lily stood between two older women, the pair pressing her for information. Her complexion blanched, her freckles like pepper against her snow-white cheeks. Even from across the room, he was enraptured by the emerald of her eyes. She had always been unforgettable. And she looked near fainting. Their eyes locked for an impossibly long moment as the stirrings of conversation resumed. Her lips parted around his name. The sound didn’t reach his ears, but he felt it in his bones. Lily. He swallowed hard and turned away.
Lady Breeding laid her gloved hand on his sleeve. “Mr. Darling, how splendid of
you to join us! I thought you were held up on business.”
Was that the excuse Lily had delivered on his behalf? He should be thankful she hadn’t pronounced him dead. He met Lady Breeding’s predatory curiosity with a practiced smile and bowed over her hand. “And miss one of your famed dinner parties, my lady? I could not possibly.”
Lady Breeding towed him away by the arm like an errant toddler. When he cast a glance over his shoulder toward Lily, betrayal burned in her eyes. That look promised retribution.
He should have warned her. Now, unless he wanted to cause a stir, it was far too late.
Turning his back on the woman he had vowed to protect tonight, he applied himself to charming the hosts—and keeping Lord Breeding far away from his wife. Nevertheless, despite the banal conversation he carried on with half an ear, he couldn’t push Lily far enough from his thoughts to focus on the people in front of him. What he wouldn’t give for a moment alone with her.
“Mr. Darling, are you listening?”
He blinked, returning to the moment and attending to the woman on the hostess’s far side. How had Lady Breeding introduced her? He’d been too preoccupied by the garish yellow of her dress and the plume extending proudly from the crest of her turban to take note.
“Forgive me, madam, I was woolgathering.”
The woman snapped her fan open and shut, clearly perturbed that her wardrobe alone wasn’t enough to hold his attention. “Don’t tell me business consumes you even now.”
He gave her his most devilish smile, the one that used to charm investors into lining his pockets. “’Tis an unfortunate reality, and why I haven’t had time of late to attend these delightful evenings.”
Lady Breeding tsked under her breath. “What a pity. I haven’t seen you in so long I was beginning to think you’d left poor Mrs. Darling a widow.”
He placed his hand over his heart, a convenient movement that pulled his arm out from her clutches. “I assure you, I would never leave my wife so bereft.”
The Price of Temptation Page 5