My Fair Lily

by Meara Platt

  “And I’m sure he will.” She nudged her toward the harp. “Do your best.”

  “I’ll try.” It wasn’t only that she had no musicality in her bones—which she didn’t—but her hands were sore, and if it weren’t for the gloves she wore, everyone would have noticed the little cuts on her palms. She’d have to take the gloves off when she played, but her injuries would be sufficiently hidden from everyone’s view while she ran her fingers across the harp strings. In any event, most guests would be turned away and wincing as she played.

  “Uh-oh. There’s Corky MacCorkstopper,” Dillie whispered. “Bet she’s surprised to find you here.”

  Lily tried to tamp down her alarm. Goodness, she’d managed to hold her own against some nasty-looking blackguards. But none of them was the woman Ewan had almost married. “Crumpets, what shall I do? She’s coming straight toward us.”

  “Straight toward you, to be precise, with Lady Finchley on her heels. Now everyone’s gawking. They’ve all heard the rumors, of course.” Dillie grinned. “When she stops in front of you, punch her in the nose. Draw blood. If you won’t do it, I will.”

  “No wonder you’re the evil twin. You’re not helping.” Though the idea had merit. She had a better one, an idea that would take care of two problems. She would smash the harp over Caledonia’s head, hopefully breaking it—the harp, that is, not Caledonia’s head. She wasn’t that bloodthirsty.

  “You leave that harp alone.” Dillie put a hand on her elbow. “I know what you’re thinking, and you can put it from your mind immediately. We’re going through with this recital.”

  “What trick is this?” Caledonia said with a hiss, or so it sounded to Lily. The girl was a viper, after all. A wicked Scottish viper.

  Lily drew in a breath, trying to remain as calm as possible in this awkward situation. “Good evening, Lady Finchley. I’m sorry, but I don’t know what trick your friend is referring to.”

  “Of course you don’t, you sweet girl. The rumors of your ruination at the hands of Lord Mortimer’s son are a bit of malicious gossip obviously started by a callow, calculating individual who’s simply jealous of you.” She stared pointedly at Caledonia as she spoke. “I was assured you would not appear. Yet here you are, looking quite lovely.”

  “Why, thank you.” Lily tossed her an innocent smile, relieved that Callie had made such a monumental mistake, a novice debater’s mistake. It was one thing to claim she’d been ruined—that juicy tidbit was readily devoured by the elite of society. But to also predict she would miss this evening, clearly proved false by her presence here, undermined all of Callie’s previous assertions.

  “I never believed those ridiculous rumors,” Lady Finchley continued. “No doubt, this callow person will soon be leaving London, hopefully never to be heard from again. Don’t you heartily agree, Miss MacCorkindale?”

  “I do not. She was taken. Abducted and ruined! I don’t know how she got back here, but I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  “I don’t think so,” a stern voice said from behind Caledonia.

  Lily had been too distraught to notice Ewan’s appearance, but there he was, as magnificent as ever, freshly shaven and impeccably attired in black tie and tails. The perfect, proper English gentleman, except for that gleam in his eyes and the Scottish swagger in his stance. He was better than an English gentleman. He was Ewan. “Good evening, Miss Farthingale. I look forward to your harp recital. I hear your talent is quite... er, unusual.” Lily melted at his smile.

  Their brief but intimate exchange only served to rile Callie. “You’re trying to protect her. It won’t work. I’ll make sure everyone learns the truth.”

  “Enough, Callie,” he said, the ice in his tone obvious to all. “I can assure you, if there ever was a scheme afoot to ruin Lily’s reputation, and you were involved in any way, the consequences will be severe.”

  Lady Finchley thought it important to express her opinion as well. “The Farthingales have close connections to the Prince Regent. I’m sure he’d personally mete out the punishment.”

  “Can’t you see he’s lying? They’re all lying!”

  Caledonia’s uncle joined them. “Enough, Callie. You’re only getting yourself into deeper trouble. As Laird Carnach said, anyone involved in such a scheme will have their heads hung on Traitor’s Gate for the ravens to scavenge. I wouldn’t like to see yours up there, and it will most certainly end up there if you persist.”

  Caledonia blanched.

  He cast Lily a tender glance. “Glad to see the rumors are completely unfounded, lass.” Then he led his niece away.

  Lily let out the breath she’d been holding.

  “Horrid creature,” Lady Finchley whispered once the pair were out of earshot.

  “Indeed,” Ewan muttered. “I wonder that we were ever friends. Archie’s a good chap, though.”

  “The best,” Lily said with enthusiasm, for he’d obviously known the truth and kept it to himself.

  Ewan arched an eyebrow. “Not better than me, I hope.”

  “What do you mean?” Lily was uncertain what he wished to hear from her. At the inn, she had told him that she loved him, and he’d said nothing in return. She wasn’t going to say it again in front of others. No, she’d had enough public humiliation for one evening. She wanted to run to Lady Finchley’s library and hide out there all evening. Those musty books were looking better and better. Lady Finchley had hundreds in her library.

  Dillie squealed. “He’s trying to tell you that he loves you.”

  “But he doesn’t.” She let out a pained laugh. “Ewan, stop this now. Tell my sister that you don’t love me.”

  All eyes turned to him. Lady Finchley’s were as wide as eyes could possibly be without popping out of one’s head.

  One. Two. Three. Four. Ewan said nothing, just grinned.

  Lady Finchley gasped and took off at a sprint, neither her advanced age nor impractical evening slippers holding her back.

  “No! He’s jesting. Please don’t—” But it was too late. Their hostess was busy spreading this latest embarrassing rumor through the crowd. “You see, this is why I hate these functions.” She frowned at Ewan. “Why didn’t you deny it?”

  “Because it’s time I stopped acting like a Scottish baboon. Lass, I’d like a private word with you after the recital. Afterward, if you’ve found it in your heart to forgive me for what I did to you at the inn—or rather, what I failed to say to you at the inn—I’d like a word with your parents.” He kissed her softly on the cheek, and then turned and walked away to take a seat beside his grandfather in the front row.

  “Holy crumpets,” Dillie muttered, “what happened at the inn?”

  Something magical. They had never held back secrets from each other, but she couldn’t reveal this one yet, not even to Dillie. “Never mind. The guests are taking their seats. Let’s just muddle through this evening.”

  CHAPTER 19

  EWAN SAT BESIDE his grandfather and Meggie, eager for the recital to begin. Not that he wished to hear the insipid pieces that passed for music in refined society. He didn’t. Nor was he eager to hear Lily’s harp playing since everyone had warned him she was execrable. William Farthingale sat on the other side of Meggie, leaning too close to her for Ewan’s liking, but he said nothing. Who was he to admonish the Farthingale lad for sitting too close to Meggie?

  He, arrogant Scot that he was, had ruined Lily.

  William leaned over to grin at him. “To think, a cat gave up its guts for those harp strings.”

  Meggie giggled. “That’s an awful thing to say about your cousin.”

  William shrugged. “Lily knows I’m only teasing. She’s perfect in every other way.”

  Ewan had been warned, but he wasn’t prepared for how truly awful her playing was. Dillie deserved a medal for her patience. In truth, Dillie seemed not in the least perturbed by her sister’s missteps. She smiled at every missed note. Ewan never realized there were so many notes to miss.

  He didn’t
care. Lily was alive. Lily was back to her cringe worthy, imperfect harp-playing form. All was right with the world... he hoped. She hadn’t agreed yet to marry him. He’d work on that problem tonight.

  When she’d finished and taken a bow to polite applause, Ewan drew her aside. She smiled at him, that warm, open-hearted smile he didn’t deserve. “I was horrid, wasn’t I? Are your ears bleeding?”

  “Numb and bleeding,” he replied with a feigned shudder. “I’m not complaining. Your sister’s quite accomplished.”

  “I know, but she hates to perform on her own. She’s a coward at heart.”

  So was he, but not anymore. He led her past the crowd and was about to draw her into Lady Finchley’s library when the Duke of Edgeware intercepted them. He looked worried. “Those crates of gunpowder are missing,” he said, following them into the library where they could all speak without being overheard.

  Ewan would have sorely liked to have had this time alone with Lily, but knew Edgeware’s news was important. “The ones numbered one, two, and three?”

  Edgeware nodded. “They were stolen with the others. I stopped by Lord Mortimer’s house to question him further, and—”

  Ewan’s arm tightened around Lily’s waist, not liking that pause one bit. “And?”

  “Ashton’s father is also missing.”

  Lily gasped, took a step back to burrow against Ewan’s chest. “Has he been abducted? Your Grace, what’s happened to him?”

  “I think he ran off on his own. His staff appears to be genuinely concerned about his disappearance, but they don’t suspect foul play. They say he was distraught and raging about Lily and the Royal Society. How was he when you and George spoke to him yesterday?”

  Ewan shook his head. “Odd. He acted as if he thought Lily had eloped with Ashton, but he was eager to end our discussion and go back to bed. I haven’t spoken to him since. No one has. George and the Bow Street runners only made it back to London a short while ago. They’re making arrangements to hand Ashton and his villains over to the authorities as we speak.”

  “Somehow, the old man got wind of what was happening. The truth about what his son has done must have set him off.” Edgeware ran a hand through his hair. “Or perhaps he isn’t as innocent as we first believed.”

  Lily glanced at Ewan. “He’s a frail, old man. What harm can he do?”

  Ewan could think of a dozen dangerous possibilities, but didn’t wish to alarm Lily any more than she was already. Every way he figured it, Lily ended up the one in danger. “I don’t know, but I’m not leaving your side until he’s found.”

  “I’ll watch Dillie,” Edgeware said. “She’s your identical twin, easily mistaken for you. In truth, I think Ashton must have been shadowing her the other night. She was wearing your spectacles, pretending to be you. When I approached, she seemed relieved.” He winced. “She’s never happy to see me. She thinks I’m an idiot. However, she asked me to stay close because she had an uneasy feeling that someone was watching her. It went away once you appeared and made the spectacles switch.”

  Lily put a hand to her throat. “I put Dillie at risk.”

  Ewan let out a soft growl. “You didn’t. Ashton’s to blame. He’s deranged, and so it seems, is his father. I mean it, Lily. I’m not letting you out of my sight. Not ever.”

  “Is that your arrogant way of asking me to marry you?”

  She was frowning again. At him. “I’ve already asked you. I’ve been waiting for your answer.”

  “You never asked. You simply assumed.”

  Edgeware’s eyes widened. He began to back out of the room. “I’ve heard more of this conversation than I ought to have. In any event, your family must be warned of the continuing danger. I’ll take care of it.” He left the library, closing the door behind him.

  “Damn it, Lily.” Ewan raked a hand through his hair.

  She held him back when he started to turn away, but he only meant to peer out the window to see if the old bastard was lurking outside. “Honestly, Ewan. You can’t expect him to be hiding among Lady Finchley’s bluebells and primroses. He’s old and frail, and moves with the speed of a snail. You’re using him as an excuse to avoid facing the truth about us. I need my answers. You never asked me to marry you.”

  His collar suddenly felt as if it had grown too tight. What was wrong with him? This was Lily, the woman who’d conquered his heart. “You know how I feel about you.”

  “You’re right. I do. But perhaps you don’t. You’re still afraid to admit it.”

  “This isn’t the conversation I planned to have with you.”

  She took a deep breath and sighed. “Then tell me what you intended to say.”

  He thought of his grandfather, that old man crying in his arms, afraid he was going to die sad and alone. Ewan was much like him, and about to make the same prideful mistake that would cost him Lily. No, not if he could help it. He drew her into his arms. “What I wished to say to you is that I want to spend the rest of my days with you. I can’t imagine my days without you in my life, or my nights without you in my arms. I know our marriage won’t be easy for you, for I’ll be taking you far from your family. But we’ll work it out. I promise. Your family is welcome to visit us whenever they like, and welcome to stay as long as they wish.”

  “Heaven forbid,” she said with a jovial grimace. “That’s the longest speech I’ve ever heard you give.”

  “There’s more. We have scientific societies, geographical societies, a slew of historical societies in Scotland, mainly in Edinburgh, but you can start as many as you like in the Highlands. I’ll sponsor every damn one of them.” Smiling, he tipped a finger under her chin and drew her gaze to his. The soft blue of her eyes met the determined green of his. “Lily, lass. My sweet lass. My fair Lily. Will you marry me?”

  “Of course I will. I love you so much, Ewan. I’m so relieved. I thought you’d never ask me straight out. I was afraid you’d return to Scotland and leave me behind.”

  “Och, I’d never do that.” He kissed her on the mouth, determined to take gentle possession of her heart and soul. He didn’t hold back either, needing Lily to know that he was hers forever, that he treasured her and couldn’t exist without her.

  “Am I dreaming? Or did I just feel the earth move?” Lily whispered, her eyes closed and lips swollen with passion.

  “Bollix, I felt it too.” The windows began to rattle. “Those missing crates of explosives!”

  Lily gasped, and her gaze turned anguished. His arms were still around her, so he felt the violent shudder that ran through her body. “Lass, it’s all right.”

  “No, it isn’t. The Royal Society!” She let out a heaving sob. “He’s destroyed it.”

  ***

  Ewan was in his unrepentant, dominant Scottish male baboon temper once again, holding Lily back when she sought to leave Lady Finchley’s townhouse. “You don’t understand! The Society’s library—”

  “Lass, ye’re to stay close to your-r-r par-r-rents.” Though he was spouting orders in full Highlander brogue and rolling his r’s, Lily knew by his expression that he was exasperated and concerned. He wasn’t angry with her. After all, he couldn’t be angry with her for wanting to save the precious books and artifacts on display within the Royal Society’s imposing halls.

  Or had Ashton’s father blown up only the building’s new wing, the one to be named after Ewan’s grandfather? His grandfather’s birthday celebration had been scheduled to take place there next week. “Don’t leave yer-r-r father’s side. I’ll see what’s happened.”

  She shot him an indignant scowl. “You just promised never to leave my side.”

  “I’m only trying to protect you.” He kissed her on the lips with hot determination, one of those divine Ewan kisses filled with hunger and longing that spoke to her heart and turned her legs to jelly. No doubt, he’d kissed her to stop her protests.

  Well, it wasn’t going to work. “I’m going with you.”

  He clenched his teeth. “No, th
e place may be on fire. Ashton’s father—”

  “All the more reason why I should be with you. More important, I know which books and artifacts are valuable. We may yet be able to save some of them. There’s a private room filled with ancient maps and manuscripts.”

  “Where?”

  “Hidden behind one of the bookshelves. You’ll never find it on your own. I’ll have to show you.” She tried to shove out of his arms. He wouldn’t let her go.

  “Och, lass. Don’t look at me that way.”

  She didn’t mean to be angry with him, but so much time had already been lost standing here arguing. “How am I looking at you?”

  “There’s so much pain in your eyes, as though a precious part of you were trapped inside that building, buried under all that marble. It’s just a building. The artifacts are just objects, no matter how important you think they are. They’re not living, breathing things. But you are. I almost lost you once. I won’t lose you again.”

  “So you’ll break your promise to me, just like that?”

  He clenched his teeth again. “I said it and I meant it. I want you by my side. In my bed. In my arms. Not ripping my heart to tatters worrying about you while battling a raging fire.”

  “You’re wonderful, Ewan. I sincerely mean it. But you know you’ve lost this argument. I’m safer with you than without you. And your grandfather will need you to go with him to the Royal Society. He’s probably looking for you as we speak.”

  He sighed and dropped his hands to his sides. “So help me, if you take a step from my side, I’ll—”

  “As you’ve promised never to leave my side, I promise never to leave yours.” She smiled at him. “Still eager to marry a Sassenach bluestocking?”

  He ran a finger lovingly across her cheek and groaned. “Never more eager for anything in my life.”

  They hurried out of the library in search of Ewan’s grandfather and found him in the entry hall, donning his cloak. Relief washed over him as he spotted them. “There you are! I thought you might have gone off without me. I don’t know what the hell just happened, but the rafters shook and now there’s a red glow in the distance. It’s the Royal Society, isn’t it?”