Dreams of Desire (41 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Holt

BOOK: Dreams of Desire
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Since she’d spurned Penworth’s marriage proposal, she’d been prepared to vacate the premises, without having any idea where she intended to go. Barbara had intervened and given her a job.
Barbara was extremely busy with managing Penworth’s affairs and serving as his hostess, and she’d needed a competent assistant. Lily probably should have refused the post, but Barbara had offered an exorbitant salary, plus a fine bedroom suite facing out over the rear garden.
The opportunity was too good to pass up, but when she’d accepted, she hadn’t understood that Barbara would throw her into social situations with Penworth. Or that she would require Lily to dress as if she was a member of the exalted group.
Without her being informed, a wardrobe had been purchased. Her bedchamber was filled to overflowing with clothes and accessories. She’d attempted to decline the generous gift, but Barbara had scoffed at her reluctance.
Do you suppose,
Barbara had scolded,
that you can be employed by me, the earl’s mother, and gad about like a pauper? I won’t have you embarrassing John in those old rags.
So Lily was in the front drawing room, awaiting the butler’s summons to supper, and she was so fashionably attired that she might have been a duke’s daughter. Violet Howard could hardly have had a gown that would compete with Lily’s, and she felt conspicuous and out of place, as if she was putting on airs.
Vividly, she recollected the consequences in Scotland when she’d tried to rise above her station, and she wouldn’t behave so foolishly ever again.
She gazed about, assessing the dignitaries who were Penworth’s acquaintances. His school chum, Jordan Winthrop, Viscount Redvers, was there, with his bride, Mary. Penworth’s neighbor, Michael Seymour, Earl of Hastings, was there, too, with his bride, Jane. They were chatting with Jane’s sister, Helen, who had just wed Captain Odell, the notorious mariner in whose Scottish house the Dudleys were living.
It was an illustrious crowd to which Lily didn’t and could never belong, and she wanted to slink to her bedchamber and hide.
She’d been so wrapped up in her miserable rumination that she didn’t notice she’d emptied her glass. Barbara provided a second, stirring it as she had the first.
“How was your wine?” she asked.
“Sour.”
“Try this vintage. You’ll like the taste a bit more.”
“Is it hot in here?”
“No.”
For some reason, Lily was very warm, and her senses were enlivened. Her pulse was elevated, her cheeks flushed. Colors were very bright; noises magnified. She could hear what everyone was saying, and they were talking about her and Penworth, as if they knew a secret she didn’t.
“Lily, are you all right?” Barbara’s grin was full of mischief.
“I’m dizzy. It must be the alcohol; I don’t drink that much.”
“Have some more.”
Barbara tipped the glass to Lily’s mouth, urging her to finish.
Gradually, she noted that people were going into the dining room. Had the butler called for them to enter? She couldn’t remember.
Barbara clutched her arm and led her in. When they stepped inside, Penworth was seated at the head of the table. The other spots were taken, except for the one at the opposite end, where his countess would have sat—had he already wed his countess.
A footman pulled out the chair as if it was meant for Lily. Barbara shoved her into it before Lily could point out that there had been a mistake in the seating chart.
She stared past the bejeweled, beautiful women and the handsome, dynamic men to where Penworth was studying her with an inscrutable smile. He lifted his brandy, tipping it toward her as if making a private toast, then he downed the contents.
Lily frowned and furtively glanced at the guests, worried that they’d observed his inappropriate gesture, but no one had.
She was shaking, so she drank more of her wine. As she did, the strangest thing happened. The world faded away so she was peering down a tunnel at Penworth. There was no sound, no activity. Time had ceased its ticking.
“Look at what Mr. Dudley has arranged for us to see,” he told her, but his lips didn’t move.
Her frown increased. Had she heard his comment in her mind?
Slowly, her view shifted, and a myriad of occasions drifted by. She recognized that they were moments in her future with John. There was her wedding day, the birth of their first child, a son. A second son followed, then two girls.
The decades surged by, their children growing, having children of their own. She and John were elderly, still together and blissfully happy.
“It’s exactly what you’ve always wanted.” He spoke in her mind again. “Say you love me, and you can have your heart’s desire.”
“I love you,” she mumbled.
At her voicing the declaration, the peculiar episode abruptly concluded, and she felt as if she was being sucked from the tunnel. She was falling and falling, and she landed—with no gracefulness at all—in a rumpled heap in her chair.
The guests gaped at her, and her cheeks heated with horror. She must have spouted aloud her improper affection for the earl. Ah! How humiliating!
The gossip about them had to stop, but if she insisted on making a public spectacle of herself, how would the scandal ever abate?
Penworth stood, and he tapped a spoon on a plate to get the crowd’s attention. All eyes whipped from her to him.
“Most of you have known me since I was a boy”—there was a general nod of agreement around the table—“so you’re aware of the changes I’ve weathered lately. I was engaged—then I wasn’t.” His friends laughed. “I finally had enough of Esther and Edward and sent them away.” A smattering of applause rang out, evidence that the pair hadn’t been liked. “My mother came back, which has been a huge pain in the rear.”
“You’re delighted I’m here,” Barbara chided. “Don’t you dare deny it.”
“Yes, I’m delighted. Who could ever have imagined I would be?”
“Anyone who knows me could imagine it, you oaf.”
“I’ve always been a stuffed shirt. I was the one in school who demanded we play by the rules. I was the one who wouldn’t cheat at exams.”
“You were an absolute boor about it,” Lord Redvers teased.
“Yes, I was, because I was terrified that if I misbehaved, I might enjoy it too much. Esther often warned me that I carried too much of my mother’s blood, and if I wasn’t careful, I’d turn out just like her.”
“Perish the thought.” Barbara gave a mock shudder that produced hoots of glee.
“I never rocked a boat,” Penworth continued, “or flouted a convention, and I was the biggest snob who ever lived. It was drilled into me that I was elevated above others simply because of who my father had been, but recently, I learned an interesting lesson.”
“What is that?” Lady Hastings asked.
“I possess all of my mother’s worst traits, and I’m sick of being cautious and doing the right thing. I’m ready to do a few things that are reckless and unexpected.”
“Like what?” Mrs. Odell inquired.
“Just watch me.”
He left his perch at the head of the table, and he started down the side, marching directly toward Lily. His gaze was locked on hers.
She blanched. What was he thinking? What was his intent?
She pushed back her chair, prepared to jump up and flee, but Barbara put a hand on her arm, halting her.
“Last summer,” Penworth said, “I met Miss Lily Lambert. I hired her to work for me, and I quickly found that I couldn’t resist her. I was determined to commence an affair, and I chased her till she caught me.”
“I never had anything to do with him,” Lily vehemently asserted.
“She’s lying.” He was practically preening over the illicit liaison. “She’s pretty and smart and funny. And sexy as hell.”
“Would you be silent?” she fumed.
He was getting closer and closer.
“We spent a delicious week trapped underground in the hot springs at Penworth Castle. Every bit of the salacious story is true.”
“It is not!”
“The interval was extremely decadent. Let your imagination run wild, and our carnal encounter was somewhere far beyond that.”
“Ssh! You’re embarrassing me!”
“I haven’t begun to embarrass you, my darling Lily.”
He skirted the end of the table, and he swooped in and fell to his knees in front of her. She didn’t like to have him so near. When she was around him, she couldn’t control herself. He overwhelmed her good sense so that she made stupid decisions.
She leaned away, needing to have more space between them, but she couldn’t escape.
“I am madly, passionately in love with her,” he announced.
The men smirked, while the ladies sighed with romantic pleasure.
“No, he’s not,” Lily scoffed.
“Can you believe it? I tell her I love her, and she says I’m a lunatic. I propose marriage, and she tells me no
.

“I bet she’s the first woman who’s ever refused you,” Lord Redvers guffawed.
“I’ve told her that I changed, that I no longer care about lineage or heritage, so her status doesn’t matter to me. I want her to be my bride, so I had to do something drastic, something so out of character she would see my words are sincere.”
He reached into the pocket of his coat and withdrew the engagement ring he’d previously shown her. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry, with a huge emerald in the center, surrounded by tiny diamonds. The candles in the chandelier enhanced the color so it glowed. It was like a talisman, luring her in, tempting her to grab for it.
She started to tremble.
“This silly, silly female—” he began.
“Is there any other kind?” Captain Odell inquired, and his wife elbowed him in the ribs.
“This silly female thinks I don’t love her, that if she weds me, I will grow weary with regret.”
He’d been staring at the guests, and he turned to face her. He was smiling, warm affection shining in his eyes.
“So I have created a spectacle. I have stirred gossip and fomented rumor, for she knows me well and can affirm that there is nothing I detest more. Before all of you, my lifelong companions, I make a fool of myself. For her.”
“Don’t do this,” she begged. “You don’t want this. You
can’t
want this.”
“I am Earl of Penworth, Lily. How many times must I tell you that I can do whatever I wish?”
He slid the ring onto her finger, and the odd sensation swept over her again. The room faded until there was only him. Her heart swelled inside her chest till it seemed too large, as if it might burst out of her skin.
A hundred scenes flashed through her mind: their first meeting, their first kiss, their first carnal tryst. She remembered the splendid autumn she’d passed with him, how happy she’d been, how alive she’d felt.
Why had she let such strident sentiment slip away? Could she get it back?
“Lily,” he murmured, yanking her from her riveting reverie, “I have a confession to make.”
“What is it?”
“I bought a love potion from Mr. Dudley.”
“You did?”
“My mother mixed it into your wine for me.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
No wonder Lily felt so strange. One of Dudley’s potions was raging in her veins.
“I bought one for myself, too,” he claimed. “It was in the brandy I just finished.”
“You’re joking.”
“No, I’m not,” he said. “There are a few people here who have had their own experience with Dudley and his magic.” He peered down the table. “How many of you ladies drank his Spinster’s Cure?”
Lady Redvers and Mrs. Odell raised their hands, and they were grinning.
“Lily drank it, too—while staring at me. She actually did it twice. What are her chances of evading its power?”
“None,” they agreed.
“What are
my
chances of evading the fate it set in motion for me?”
“None,” they replied even louder, chuckling.
“Lily, on bended knee, before my mother and all of my friends, I ask you to marry me.”
“Oh . . . oh ...”
“I swear to you that I will always love you, that I will always keep and protect you, that I will be faithful and kind and loyal till my dying day.” He took a deep breath, then swallowed. “Will you have me?”
“You mean it. You’re serious.” She was shaking so violently that she could hardly stay seated in her chair.
“Of course I’m serious. Do you think I go around proposing to women at the drop of a hat?”
“Well, you were betrothed to someone else just last month.”
The room exploded with peals of laughter.
“A minor mistake on my part.”
“It certainly was.”
“Say yes, Lily,” he urged. “Make our dreams come true.”
She gazed at him, then at Barbara, then down the table, settling on each person, one by one. These were the people who knew him best. They were nodding encouragement, as if they had specifically joined with him, a phalanx of family and friends standing as witnesses to his promise and guarantors to his pledge.
How could she refuse to believe him? How could she rebuff him again?
“I . . . I love you,” she shyly divulged, embarrassed to have so many others listening in.
“You finally admit it, you scamp!” He leaned in and stole a wild, torrid kiss that had the onlookers clapping and exclaiming. “Don’t be afraid. Say yes.”
“I’m not afraid.” Tears flooded her eyes.
“Trust me, Lily. Take a chance. Do it for me. Do it for yourself.”
The weight of the ring felt heavy on her finger, and after they had watched him put it on, she could never remove it.
“I want it all,” she murmured. “I want it so badly.”
“And you shall have it.”
“I’ve always been alone.”
“I know you have.”
“I’ve had to work and struggle and toil.”

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