by Wendy Vella
She wasn't scared of him, Dev realized, only of what he may learn.
“I am nothing to you.”
“Not quite true, but I take your point. However, after saving you from certain
death—”
“Neither Leo nor I would have died from falling on the road,” she scoffed.
“You are certainly as ungrateful as my sisters.”
He saw the small twitch of her lips, and with it came a flash of two dimples he had not known she had. It was yet another glimpse into the woman society knew nothing of.
“Should someone chance upon us, Lord Sinclair, the results would not please either of us; therefore I would ask you to let me pass.”
He knew her words for the truth and yet he could not draw away. Lifting a hand, he traced the bruise marring the pale skin of her jaw. She felt warm to touch and the effect on his body was instant. Every nerve end stood, every pulse thrummed.
“Can we be friends, Miss Braithwaite?”
“No.”
The word made her pout. Just a taste, a small brush of his mouth against hers, and this madness inside him would ease.
“No.” She shook her head as he lowered his. “I don't—”
He swallowed the rest of her words. Dev was gentle, placing small kisses on her lips, each one opening them bit by bit, until she gave him what he wanted. She had the most kissable lips, full against his and shaped to perfection, and in seconds all thought of this being a brief interlude fled from his head.
Had someone doused him in fire he would not have moved. The immediate and powerful reaction he suddenly felt shocked him to his toes. It was as if she touched him everywhere, yet in truth the only skin he could access was her face and lips. It was enough to tell him that when he got this woman undressed and beneath him, theirs would be a fierce passion.
Lilly had never been properly kissed before. There been several pathetic attempts by men who had drunk too much or declared they were enamored by her, which was of course untrue. She’d soon taught them the error of their ways, but this.... Dear God, this was a slow seduction of the senses.
His mouth, which she had previously believed hard, was soft and wicked as it kissed and nibbled hers. She could do nothing to stop the shameful flood of heat that filled her body. It was as if she had relinquished control of herself to him, as if her body were now his to command.
Of their own volition, her arms moved up his body and her fingers dug into the hard muscles on his shoulders. For a brief moment, she almost wished she did not wear gloves, so she could explore the soft hair at his nape.
“Open for me, Lilliana.”
The deep rasp of his words brushed her lips, and she found herself doing as he asked. Felt herself arch into his body, press her breasts against his chest as she sought more from him. More contact, more kisses.
One of his hands cupped her head and angled it so the kiss deepened; the other he kept around her waist, holding her close.
“Lilliana.”
“Yes,” she whispered against his lips, uncertain what he asked for or what she needed.
His mouth moved to her jaw, kissing the length to her ear, and then he pressed his lips to that place just beneath, where her neck started, and the fire inside her grew. Such a small place, and yet when touched in the right way, by the right man, it was alarmingly sensitive. Lilly managed to swallow her cry of regret when he lifted his head.
She drew in an unsteady breath as he stepped back and away from her.
“Please forgive me. I-I had no right to do that, Miss Braithwaite.”
His breathing was as heavy as hers, and she saw that he was as disturbed by the kiss as she.
“I-I don't know what to say to you,” she whispered truthfully. “This, it should not have happened, and I'm not sure why it did.”
Lilly braced herself as he closed the distance between them once more.
“You are a beautiful woman.” He cupped her cheek.
Lilly shook her head. “No, I am not. I'm ugly. Just ask any man in that ballroom.”
“But you are not ugly, are you, Lilliana? In fact you are beautiful, and yet you take great pains that no one sees that beauty.”
No, no, no. How did he know she took great pains to hide from society?
“I have no idea to what you allude, Lord Sinclair. This entire situation has gotten completely out of hand, and it must stop. What happened the other night was the catalyst, and let me say once more that I have no wish to speak of it further, and this”—Lilly waved her hand between them—”is momentary madness, which will pass.”
Before he could speak, she placed a hand on his chest and pushed. He moved, but only, she suspected, because he wished to. Then she was walking from the room. Lilly wanted to run, but made herself walk.
Reaching the door to the ballroom minutes later, she slipped inside, now composed. Well, outwardly at least.
“Miss Braithwaite, how wonderful, I have been looking everywhere for you. Come, we will go to supper together as we have both missed the supper dance, and quite frankly there is not one person I wish to converse with who will aid my digestion.”
Of course the last person she wanted to sit with was one of his sisters, and yet she could find no way to escape Essex Sinclair.
“Thank you, that would be lovely.”
“We shall find somewhere quiet. I have some questions about the knitting I am doing, as I believe you also knit for the children. Different styles that I think will help the children through the winter months.”
Lilly drew in a deep breath as Essex started chattering about the children. She nodded and smiled when appropriate, and tried to ignore the tingling in her breasts and heat that flushed her body. Essex had no idea that minutes ago Lilly had been locked in a heated embrace in the arms of her eldest brother. In fact, she doubted anyone would believe it, even if she climbed onto the supper table and yelled the words to every guest. She was struggling with it herself.
It had been madness; nothing else could explain that frenzied need inside her to be consumed by the man. She'd never felt such raw emotion before. Lilly had never thought of herself as passionate-natured, but right at that moment, there on the cold stone floor, she would have allowed that man any liberties he wished with her person.
“Hello, Cam.”
“Essex, Miss Braithwaite.”
Lilly nodded to the Sinclair male as they took seats close to where he sat with a young lady.
“I shall get us some food, if you will sit here, Miss Braithwaite.”
“Oh, I can get mine.”
“Yes, I know, but then someone may take our seats,” Essex said before walking off.
The family, Lilly thought, were all quite authoritative in their own way.
Had she responded with such abandon simply because he was handsome, and no handsome man had ever paid her any attention? Not that she wanted attention. But yes, surely that was it, Lilly reasoned, relieved to have worked through why she had behaved in such a way. Feeling better, she even smiled as Essex Sinclair arrived back at her side with a plate of food.
“I was wondering if perhaps I could drop some more things around to Temple Street one day, Miss Braithwaite?”
Suddenly the food tasted like ashes in her mouth.
She looked at Essex Sinclair. The green eyes were not as vibrant as her brother’s, and the hair not quite as dark, but there was little doubting the blood tie.
“I—ah, Temple Street?”
“I saw you entering there when last I had some things to deliver. I took them myself as I was heading that way. I thought that perhaps you were in some way involved? Perhaps your family owns the house?”
“Oh, yes of course.”
“Forgive me. You seem uncomfortable with my questions.”
Stay calm, Lilly. Because one person knows you visit Temple Street, does not mean anyone else does.
“I am involved, yes, but prefer to keep my involvement a secret.”
Why was her life sudden
ly so complicated? First this business with Lord Sinclair, and then with his sister. She had managed to keep her secrets close until these people entered her life.
“Oh, of course, and your secret is safe with me, I assure you. Indeed, I have several secrets I have no wish for anyone to hear.”
Lilly couldn't imagine what this woman could possibly have to hide.
“Excellent. I would be most grateful if you would do so.”
“I assume the house is for the children in some capacity?”
“Yes, we treat any sick children there and offer beds and food for those in need.”
“How wonderful.” Essex looked genuinely interested. “Is there a possibility that I may call around there sometime, and drop off the things I have for the children? I would also like to offer my help if a child is sick or injured. I have quite a bit of knowledge in that direction.”
Lilly wondered if this was what it was like being stomped over by a herd of cats. These Sinclairs did not seem to understand the word no, and gently but forcefully persisted until they got the answers they sought. However, she was surprised that a woman of noble birth knew about healing, and while she had no wish for Essex Sinclair to know too much about her life, she was not one to look away from such an opportunity. The children were often sick enough to warrant calling for a doctor, and yet most doctors had no wish to treat children like the ones who frequented Temple Street.
“Yes, well, if you wish.”
“Excellent. I shall await word from you as to what day suits you best.”
Biting into a savory, Lilly contemplated how she was to bring her life back under control and eradicate Lord Sinclair from it. Many hours later, when she was lying in her bed, she was no closer to finding the answer.
CHAPTER FIVE
Dev could hear the laughter as he walked down the long hallway of his uncle's home three mornings after the night he had kissed Lilliana Braithwaite. The nursery was on the top floor and rightly so, considering the noise coming from inside it. Reaching the doorway, he leaned on the frame and looked inside.
“If seventeen frogs hopped seventeen miles and they covered five miles per hour, then how long would it take them to reach Ambrosia Pond? Which I happen to know is the biggest pond in Europe.”
His younger siblings were seated around a table; Somerset perched with one leg beneath her. Warwickshire sprawled, looking like Cambridge, long legs taking up the majority of room under the table. Dorset, who rarely sat still, bounced in her chair. Each was silent as they thought through what their tutor, Mr. Linues, had asked them.
Dev had always believed his sisters should be schooled as thoroughly as his brother, and until they had arrived in London and accepted their aunt and uncle's support, he and his elder siblings had undertaken that task. He also knew his views were very different from the rest of society’s. His uncle surprisingly had followed them and employed Mr. Linues, a young man with a solemn demeanor behind which sat a wry sense of humor.
“How many frogs are there, and is the road often used?”
“There will be no delaying tactics to put your sisters off, thank you, Master Warwick.”
Dev laughed silently. His younger siblings, like their elder brothers and sisters, had lively intelligence. It was only recently he, Cam, Essie, and Eden had found out that they also shared their heightened senses. It had been a blow, as they'd believed them untouched; now, however, they had to teach them how to live with the gifts they had.
Nodding to Mr. Linues, Dev quietly withdrew and went to hunt out his sister. He and Cam lived next door in the other house their uncle owned on the street. They spent most of their time here, especially now their aunt and uncle were away traveling the countryside. It was a beautiful home filled with rich colors and lush furnishings, but more importantly it had plenty of food, and growing up this had not always been the case.
“Breakfast has just been served, my lord.”
“Pennyroll.” Dev nodded to his uncle's butler as he appeared before him. “Do you know the location of Miss Sinclair?”
“She is in the breakfast parlor, my lord.”
Excellent; he could eat and talk to his sister at the same time. He hadn't slept well again, his dreams plagued with visions of Lilly in his arms, her lips pressed to his. Lilliana naked beneath him as he made slow sensual love to her. Lilliana sitting draped across his thighs while he kissed her breasts.
“I shall have another place set for you at once, my lord.”
Nodding, Dev kept walking. Bloody woman. He’d been better off thinking her a simpleton; at least then he had known peace. Since finding out she was not who he had originally thought, she had taken up residence in his head. Then there was the matter of that night he had found her on the street.
He thought he had everything straight in his head about that, but then, he wished she would confirm it.
“Surely the hour is too early for such a scowl, brother?”
“Morning, Essie.” Dev walked around the table to kiss his sister and then picked up the plate the maid had just placed on the table. Heading to the sideboard, he began to lift covers. Once his plate was full, he seated himself across from his sister.
Essie was the gentlest of the Sinclairs and the most comfortable to be with, in Dev's opinion. He’d amended that to usually, after their conversation three nights ago. She rarely raised her voice and could actually sit still and silent for longer than two minutes at a time. They ate in companionable silence until Dev had cleaned his plate and rose to refill it. He then watched his sister savor a mouthful of food before swallowing.
Her heightened sense was taste. She could tell any ingredient with just a mouthful. She could also taste fear, anger, and other emotions, especially if they were being experienced by one of her siblings.
“What plans do you have for the day, Essie?”
She looked better with each week that passed since that bastard had broken her heart. The dark purple bruises beneath her eyes had faded and the strain in her pretty face had eased. The sadness was still there, Dev could see it in her eyes, but her color was stronger, healthier. He checked his siblings over at least once a month, had done so since he was old enough to understand his gift. He knew what color they should be and knew if they were sick or troubled. Essie was a bright pink, but for a while, some of her color had lost its strength.
“I'm going out, Dev.”
“An enjoyable entertainment, depending on where it is you go to.”
He watched Essie as she put jam on a piece of toast, pushing it to the corners slowly, avoiding his eyes.
“Oh, I thought to purchase some new gloves.”
She was still not looking at him, and he knew her well enough to know she was not telling him the truth. He just needed to push a little harder. Like Cam, Essie could not lie worth a damn.
“Gloves, now that is an exciting prospect. Is that all you plan to purchase?”
“P-perhaps a bonnet.”
“For which occasion?”
Her knife landed on her plate with a clatter as finally she looked up at him.
“I cannot tell you where I'm going, so don't ask.”
“Are you in danger?”
“No, of course not!”
Relieved, he continued, “Are you meeting someone I have no wish for you to meet?”
“Um... well, as to that, I am not entirely sure.”
“Even more intriguing.”
“Could we discuss the weather instead?”
She gave him a pleading look that failed to move him.
“Just tell me, Essie, you know I'll get the information eventually.” Which he would. She could never keep anything from him.
“No.” She shook her head. “I cannot, as I have promised.”
“Then I shall simply forbid you from leaving the house, or follow you, and you know with my sight I will find you.”
“You cannot forbid me from leaving the house,” she scoffed. “I will simply ignore you and leave anyway. Besides, yo
u do not usually need to know what I do during the day.”
“Not entirely true,” Dev said. Since she'd had her heart broken, he'd been much more diligent.
She picked up her toast and proceeded to break it into bits on her plate.
“It is not that I do not want to tell you, but that I have promised not to speak of it to anyone.”
“Because it will put someone at risk?”
She nodded, and a small kernel of thought entered his head.
“Risk of exposure to society or another kind of risk?”
“The first.”
“So it is a person of noble birth that you are protecting?”
“I have no wish to discuss it further.”
“However, you will.”
Her sigh was loud.
“It is a good deed this person is doing, and I simply wish to help her. I assure you there is nothing nefarious at foot here, Dev.”
“You don't have a nefarious bone in your body; however, there are plenty of people who do. Now, as, if my hunch is accurate, this outing concerns Miss Braithwaite, then let me assure you I would not feel comfortable if you are visiting somewhere that houses her children,” he lied.
He had no problem with his sister seeing Lilliana; the problem lay in the fact that he wanted to see her too.
His sister chewed her lip.
“Let's hear it.”
“I am going to drop some things to her, and as I know of her house, I am taking them there.”
“Her house?”
“Well, she did not directly tell me of her involvement, other than acknowledging that she visits there, but I believe there is more to it than that. She certainly seemed knowledgeable about it when we spoke on the matter.”
“And where is this house, and what will you and Miss Braithwaite be doing there?”
He was subjected to a very frank appraisal from his sister, her green eyes telling him his casual question was anything but. However, she chose not to needle him, a heroic gesture for a Sinclair.
“It is in Temple Street, the house I told you I saw her at. It is a place for sick or injured children who have nowhere else to go. I told her I knew of it and she was not pleased. But after I explained I wished to help in any capacity, she organized for me to visit today.”