My Fair Lily

by Meara Platt

  Jasper let out a howl, a long wrooolf, wrooolf, as though to proclaim that meeting Lily was the best thing to ever happen to him as well.

  “Quiet, ye looby,” Ewan said. “I know you love her. I—”

  He stopped himself, realizing what he’d been about to say. Bollix. He couldn’t tell her, not here with that insane bastard lying unconscious at his feet and Bow Street runners chasing down the other culprits who’d abducted her.

  No, whatever he planned to say to Lily would have to wait. And hell, he wasn’t sure what he would say to her. He’d figure it out once she was safely out of Ashton’s reach.

  “I had Ashton’s report at home,” Lily said, her voice heartbreakingly soft. “I would have given it to him, let him put his name on it. I was willing to give him all the credit. Why did he take me captive? What could he gain by it?”

  The thought of Lily bound in chains for the rest of her life and forced to do Ashton’s bidding made him ill. Writing science articles for that madman was the least of it. Lily was a beautiful girl. He refused to think of what else the bastard had planned for her. “I don’t know, lass.”

  Though she was now huddled in his jacket, he doubted it was enough to keep her warm. He had to get her back to London as soon as possible, but she needed food and a change of clothes first. The air was an unappealing mix of cold and damp. He’d noticed a cozy inn about an hour’s ride north of here, a good place to stop and allow Lily some time to rest. “The Bow Street men will question him when he awakens.”

  She nodded, and then her gaze fell upon the sleeve of his shirt. “Oh, Ewan! You’re hurt.”

  He’d forgotten about the blood seeping down his arm, purposely ignored the burning pain. “It’s just a flesh wound. I’m fine, lass. More important, you’re safe, and I mean to keep you that way. I’ll get you out of this bloody place as soon as I can.”

  “I’m not scared any more. Not with you beside me.”

  He let out a soft laugh. “I’m the one who should be thanking you. You came out of your hiding spot to save me, didn’t you?”

  She nodded. “He had the pistol aimed at your back. I didn’t think about it, just shoved at him with all my might. He still struck you, though.”

  “As I said, a mere flesh wound. Thank you, lass. You saved my life.”

  She burrowed more deeply against him, rested her cheek against his chest. “As you saved mine. And I didn’t even need my hat pin.” Her fingers fumbled into the stained sash of her gown and drew out the long, thin metal for his inspection. “Look, it’s right here.”

  “Hold on to it. You may still need it. I’m not sure if the Bow Street runners have secured his accomplices.”

  He needn’t have worried. Homer and his men did their jobs, capturing all five accomplices, two of whom were shot and seriously injured. The other three were trussed up like Christmas geese about to be roasted over a fire. Homer had moved their prisoners into the house and George was working on the two wounded culprits as Ewan marched in. “Jasper’s guarding Ashton. He’s in the woods.”

  Mick, a burly man with a leathery face that reflected the wear and tear of a hard life, moved to the door. “I’ll take care of that fancy cove.”

  For a moment, Ewan wasn’t quite certain what Mick meant to do, but these were trained Bow Street runners and not heartless killers. “Here, take this rope,” Homer said. “Tie him up like the others. We’ll haul his dismal arse to London along with them other knaves. Don’t want to be dealin’ with no Maidstone magistrate beholden to the Mortimer family.”

  Ewan told Mick where to find him, silently praying that Jasper hadn’t let the bastard slip away. The dog was a playful beast used to herding harmless sheep, not deranged blackguards.

  George shot Lily a smile filled with relief.

  Ewan could see that George wanted to drop his medical instruments and swallow his niece in his arms, but he had blood all over his hands and was still working on one of those injured men. “Lily, are you hurt?”

  “No, Uncle George. I’m fine. Just a little cold and hungry, that’s all.”

  He nodded. “Can you stand on your own?”

  She wrapped her arms securely around Ewan’s neck. “Yes, but I’m quite comfortable just where I am.”

  Ewan laughed. “Good, because I’m not putting you down until I have you safely back with your family.”

  And he didn’t. He held her while Homer and Mick prepared to ride off with Ashton and his knaves, and while he made arrangements for George and Bert to remain behind with the injured men. Holding Lily felt so right, as though she’d become a part of him... as though something important would be missing in his life without her. The feeling went beyond mere physical pleasure, though her body perfectly molded to the planes of his body. It was as though they were two pieces of a puzzle perfectly fitting together to complete it.

  Within hours, Homer would report to the Farthingale family and bring reinforcements to assist George and Bert with those injured men. Within hours, he’d be facing the Farthingale family as well. That left him little time to figure out what to do about Lily. She was a forever sort of girl. He wasn’t thinking beyond the next two months. She felt perfect and right just now. Would he feel this way forever?

  He gazed at Lily. Though she put on a brave face for her uncle, he knew she was still scared and shivering, not to mention exhausted and hungry. She’d never make it to London in her present state even if the weather turned warm and sunny, which it wasn’t going to if the red sky at dawn was any indication. Noticing her frown, he told Lily of the inn they’d passed about an hour’s ride north of Maidstone.

  “A hot meal, warm bath, and a few hours’ rest? Sounds heavenly.” She let out a breathy sigh that lit him up like a furnace.

  He’d be alone with her at the inn. A stupid, dangerous idea. Anything could happen. Something would happen, because she was a lit match to his tinder. She set him on fire with a mere glance. She was doing it right now, looking fragile and beautiful, swallowed up in his jacket and her small hand still gripping the hat pin. “Ewan, there’s something I must show you before we leave this awful place.” Her lips were pursed and her brow adorably furrowed in the way it furrowed whenever she concentrated her attention on something complicated. Never him. He wasn’t that complicated for her.

  She was one hell of a complication for him.

  Reluctantly, he set her down and followed her to the cellar, but made certain to keep hold of her. She was still weak and wobbling on her feet. That he wanted to touch her, needed to touch her was of no moment. He was thinking only of her. Not of his damn male urges.

  She pointed to a row of crates stacked along one of the cellar walls. “Some of these are filled with gunpowder. What use would Ashton have for such a large store?”

  “I don’t know.” He opened a few of them and let out a long, low whistle. “There’s enough powder here to level an entire building.”

  “Look, there are numbers stamped on each crate. Four, five, six, seven.” Her lips pursed again.

  “What’s troubling you, lass?”

  She looked up to meet his gaze. “Where are crates one, two, and three?”

  ***

  Ewan wasn’t going to think about anything other than getting Lily safely home. After that, he’d deal with the crates of gunpowder. Likely they’d been stolen from a local armory. Those numbered one, two, and three were probably still there, safely under lock and key. “I’ll ask Edgeware to investigate the matter once we’re back in London. This is the sort of inquiry best left to his discreet efficiency.”

  “I suppose. Even if Ashton did steal them, he’s safely in Mr. Barrow’s custody and unable to cause more mischief.”

  Ewan could see the matter still troubled her despite his assurances that it would be resolved. That’s how Lily’s brain worked, noticing problems and dwelling on them until she’d worked them out. Not just small problems, but the great unknowns of life. Had she always been this way? Even as a little girl? Would their
children be just like Lily?

  He took a deep breath. Bloody hell. Marriage and children. He wasn’t ready for any of it. Were all dominant male baboons this cowardly? Did baboons think this hard about commitment and procreation? Or did the dominant male just stick his pole wherever he found an opening, giving no thought to the consequences?

  He led Lily back upstairs. As he closed the cellar door behind them, Jasper came bounding down the hall, heading straight for Lily in a great, furry ball of excitement, his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth and tail wagging furiously. Having been relieved of guarding Ashton, the dog’s first thought was to find Lily. Not that Ewan blamed him. Lily had a way of getting into one’s heart... or under one’s fur, in Jasper’s case.

  Lily let out a squeal of delight and knelt down to greet him. She gave him a fierce hug, burying herself in his damp fur. “My hero! I knew you’d find me. I never doubted for a moment.”

  “Wrooolf! Wrawooolf!”

  “Oh, you missed me?” She scratched Jasper behind the ears, and he went from mere dog happiness to dog-in-ecstasy happy. “You were worried about me? Worried that the bad man would hurt me before you reached me? What a good, brave dog!”

  Ewan was jealous. Pathetic. Jealous of his own, damn dog. But Lily’s hands were all over that furry beast, her breasts pressed against his thick coat, and all Ewan could think of was having Lily’s hands all over him, and having his hands all over Lily’s breasts. Right. He wasn’t complicated.

  He wanted Lily.

  ***

  The two of them left Sparrow Hall the moment George finished patching up his shoulder. The damage turned out to be a flesh wound after all, the bullet merely grazing him so there was nothing to dig out. Within the rain-drenched hour, they reached the inn he’d noticed on his way to Maidstone. It looked cozier and more charming by daylight, or what passed for daylight amid the gloom of rain and black, rolling thunderclouds. The innkeeper ran out to greet them, fussing over them as they hurried inside. “We ran into a little trouble,” Ewan said, not quite a lie. “I’m Lord Carnach.”

  “We’re honored to have ye with us, m’lord. Look at ye, all cold and wet. I’ve got a fire started. Come into the parlor and keep yerselves warm while the maids ready yer chamber. Ye’ll have our finest.”

  “We’ll be needing food. And a hot bath for—”

  “Aye, poor dear. We’ll take good care of yer lovely wife.” The innkeeper glanced at Lily, who had her chin up and was doing her best to smile, but her lips were blue and she was noticeably shivering. She had dark circles under her eyes which she had trouble keeping open because she was so obviously exhausted.

  Had she heard the innkeeper refer to her as his wife?

  Probably not, he decided when she made no move to correct his mistake. All the better. He had no intention of leaving her side, not even for a moment. He carried Lily into the parlor. Jasper settled himself beside the hearth and immediately fell asleep. Ewan didn’t have the heart to wake him. He ordered water and a juicy bone for him to chew on once the big lump awoke. That would keep him content for a while. He also arranged for a messenger to deliver a note to Lily’s father assuring him of Lily’s safety and telling him where they were. Lily was in desperate shape. She needed food, warmth, and sleep. A few hours delay in reaching London wouldn’t matter.

  The creak of floorboards overhead meant the inn was coming to life. The other guests were beginning to stir, and Ewan didn’t want Lily seen. Fortunately, their room was quickly made ready, and he and Lily were settled in before any prying eyes fell upon them. Within moments, the efficient staff had delivered warm bread, jam, tea, additional blankets, a lavender soap, and a tub that they quickly filled with buckets of heated water.

  One of the maids asked if she should stay to assist Lily. Ewan was about to accept the offer when Lily shot him a desperate glance. “No, my husband will take care of me.”

  He thanked the maid, dismissed her, and latched the door before turning to Lily, his body once again on fire at the thought of what would come next. Lily had heard his exchange with the innkeeper after all. Did she understand the import of her words? They’d be alone while she stripped out of her clothes, while she stepped naked into the tub and rubbed soap all over her soft, silken body. He let out a tortured groan. “I’ll turn my back while you undress and get into the tub.”

  She nodded, but didn’t move.

  “Lass, do you want me to leave the room?”

  “No,” she said in a ragged whisper. “I need you, Ewan. Right here, with me. I feel safe when I’m with you.”

  But not safe from him. She stirred his blood. She roused his hunger. He wanted to feel her skin against his palms, taste her against his mouth. He turned away. This was a bad idea. He was no gentleman. Lily was every inch a lady. “Lass, I should go.”

  “Ewan, my hands are shaking. I can’t feel my fingers. I can’t undress myself. You’ll have to do it for me. You don’t have to close your eyes. I don’t wish to hide anything from you.” He heard her sniffle. More tears? “I thought I was going to die in that cellar... or worse, that those men would do something so horrible to me that I’d wish to die.”

  He turned to face her. In two strides, he had her in his arms. “Come, sweetheart. No nasty thoughts. I’m here for you. I’ll take care of you.” He held her until her tears subsided, dying a little inside each time she gazed at him with a lingering fear in her eyes. Not of him. It was fear from her ordeal.

  When she’d calmed a little, he helped her out of her damp gown. The silk slid softly down her body as she stepped out of it.

  He knelt beside her and rolled the stockings off her legs. First the right, then the left, all the while his fingers on her skin. A very bad idea. It took all his control to keep from sliding his hands between her shapely thighs and claiming her with his mouth. All that now stood between him and her naked body was a thin camisole. She didn’t stop him as he slipped it off her slender frame.

  He understood how she felt, knew what she was feeling. It was as though no one else existed in the world but the two of them. Not two strangers thrown together by circumstance. They were two missing parts of a whole, meant for each other. Unable to exist without each other. “Lily, lass.” His voice was a raw, raspy whisper. “You’re so beautiful.”

  “So are you, Ewan.” She moved out of his arms. He heard the gentle lap of water as she eased into the tub. “Oh, the soap is on the table.”

  She was killing him. He let out a ragged breath. “I’ll get it for you.”

  He tried not to look at her naked body. Failed miserably. Couldn’t take his eyes off her. He handed her the soap. Still looking at her. Eyeballs practically pasted to her breasts. She didn’t reach for the soap. “Will you help me, Ewan?”

  She was killing him slowly and painfully. “If you wish.”

  “I do.” She lifted her long, dark curls off her pale, white shoulders. “I like the way you look at me.”

  Your father won’t.

  He rolled up his sleeves and slowly began to rub the soap over her hands. Waited for her to take it from him and ask him to turn away. She didn’t. She wasn’t going to. He was her missing half. He rubbed the soap up her arms. He lathered her shoulders. Lathered her breasts. Was very thorough with her breasts. He cupped one in his hand and slowly slid his thumb across its taut nipple. Lily let out a soft gasp. “Do that again.”

  He did, this time with his tongue.

  “Crumpets! I had no idea it could ever be like this.” She demanded more, closing her eyes and allowing him access to every inch of her beautiful, pink body, driving him over the edge with her breathy moans and innocence. He lathered her everywhere, rinsed her off, and lathered her again. He licked and tasted, ate about half of that soap lather because men were stupid that way, never stopping to think about anything but sex, and a hot, lavender-scented Lily tasted better than anything he’d ever tasted in his entire life.

  He dropped the soap and dipped his finger between the junc
tion of her thighs. “Ewan!” She arched her back and gazed at him in wondrous confusion. He kissed her, parting her lips with his tongue and gently plundering her warm, inviting mouth as his finger plundered her nether lips, gently stroking her swollen essence, encouraging her to move against the pressure, and watching her beautiful face, the graceful arch of her body, the glorious peak of her nipples as her body exploded in pleasure. She clung to his shoulders, called his name in achingly sweet ecstasy. “Ewan. Ewan.”

  When she’d calmed, she was his Lily again, the beautiful bluestocking with trusting blue eyes and a smile as bright as sunshine. “I never knew baths could be quite so... interesting.”

  He grinned despite the rock-hard pain between his thighs. “Are you hungry?”

  She nodded, her smile so sweet and radiant, he wanted to swallow her up in his arms, haul her to the large, neatly made up bed, and bury himself inside of her again and again, as often as possible before his heart gave out from the intense excitement of repeated ecstasy. Death by sexual frenzy. He wondered how many male baboons died that way.

  Lily licked her lips. “In truth, I’m famished. But also curious.”

  When was she not?

  “Do you know any interesting sexual tricks with food?”

  He hauled her out of the tub, grabbed a cloth to dry off her perfect, pink body, wrapped the large cloth around her, and carried her to the small table where the maid had set out their food. He kicked out the stool beside it. “Sit down and eat while I wash up. No damn tricks with food.”

  She looked disappointed.

  He set her on the stool more urgently than intended and took a step back. He wasn’t merely hot and hard. He was on fire and about to erupt with the force of a volcano. “Lily—”

  “Before you lecture me about what we should and should not be doing, I want you to know that I liked it.”

  “I know, lass. I liked watching you.” His throat constricted, an effect of the heat radiating from his loins. “But I’m not made of stone.”

  She glanced at the hard, throbbing bulge of his groin against his trousers.