Her Secret Fantasy (12 page)

There seemed to be reason for hope. After all, he had said nothing to incriminate her back at Edward’s house, when he very easily could have. Indeed, he had looked as shocked at finding her there as she had been upon seeing him step out of the carriage. Perhaps she need not fear him, after all. But she was not taking any chances.

It was bad enough that she had put herself at his mercy this way. The old Balfour luck—all bad—had clearly struck again.

In the meantime,
Lord,
she could not believe the blackguard had managed to get himself invited to the garden party! Now that day was going to be all the more unpleasant.

“What did you think of the major, dear?” Mrs. Clearwell asked oh-so-casually.

Lily hadn’t noticed her eagle-eyed chaperone watching her all the while, studying the play of emotions on her face, but now she looked over and saw Mrs. Clearwell’s canny observation, almost as though the woman could hear the reckless thunder of her pulse.

Lily paled and dropped her gaze, trying to summon up an innocent tone. “He seems—pleasant enough.”

“Pleasant? I thought he was perfectly charming. Honestly, I don’t know why you can’t find a man like that instead of Edward. Brave, well bred, and
so
impossibly handsome—”

“Mrs. Clearwell,” Lily interrupted, finding her recitation of his virtues intolerable, “don’t you know he has the most wicked reputation?”

Her chaperone’s frown gave way to a chuckle. “As well he might, my dear. As well he might.”

Lily looked at her, appalled. “Mrs. Clearwell, I fear you have been taken in by a rake’s charm,” she said severely.

“Haven’t you heard, gel? It’s a known fact. Reformed rakes make the best husbands.”

Lily harrumphed. “Ridiculous cliché,” she muttered as Mrs. Clearwell’s carriage gained the genteel environs of Mayfair.

Airy laughter was her godmother’s response.

Upon reaching Mrs. Clearwell’s house, Lily hurried up to her bedchamber and leaned before the vanity, taking a hard look in the mirror. Well, she thought, meeting her own grim gaze in the reflection, he had unmasked her now.

There was no point in denying that she was attracted to him, but it did not signify. She only wished that she were not quite so eager to run off and see Derek Knight again.

It was nearly time for their meeting. She would have to hurry or she would be late.

Trying to tell herself that her urgency was born merely of her keen desire to rescue her poor earring from being held hostage by that barbarian, she smoothed her hair, pinched her cheeks to brighten their color, then ran back downstairs on slightly wobbly legs.

Mrs. Clearwell looked over in surprise. “Where are you off to, dear?”

“I should like to take my daily constitutional,” she lied, ignoring a familiar jab of guilt for her lack of honesty. “I ate too many biscuits at the Lundys’. A bit of exercise would do me good.”

“Ah, the energy of youth. For my part, I shall take a nap. That Mrs. Lundy is a dear thing, but she quite talked me senseless.” Mrs. Clearwell offered her cheek, which Lily dutifully kissed. “Don’t forget to take Eliza with you,” her chaperone ordered. “This is not the countryside where you can walk alone.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

When Mrs. Clearwell retired to her chamber, Lily summoned the freckled housemaid, Eliza, who had been assigned to attend her.

Before long, she and her maid were in Hyde Park, awash in all the hustle and bustle of the Ring, though it was not yet as crowded as it would be by five. They stopped at the railing to watch the smartly dressed bucks and beauties pass in their fine equipages.

Lily scanned the park in search of Derek Knight.

Within a few moments, she spotted him. He came riding out from around a curve in the lane astride a glossy black stallion. The trace of a wistful smile touched her lips in spite of herself as she watched him. The consummate cavalry officer looked as proud as that high-stepping bit-of-blood that he sat with such splendor. The horse seemed to dance beneath him.

Ah, but she did not need a hero in shiny knee-boots and gold epaulets. The only kind of rescue she desired was of her family’s dwindling bank account, and since she highly doubted that mighty Zeus was going to come raining down on her in a shower of gold, Edward Lundy was going to have to do.

“Lor,’ look at ’im!” the maid uttered as the magnificent pair came closer. “He’s beautiful, Miss.”

“Yes,” Lily murmured, thrusting aside a quiver of desire, vexed anew by her unwanted attraction to the man. She turned away to stop herself from staring at him. “Actually, Eliza, I’m afraid he is the real reason we are here.”

“To ’ave a look at ’im, you mean?”

“More than that. I have to talk to him.”

Eliza tore her gaze away from the major and turned to Lily in wide-eyed apprehension. “Is that quite proper, Miss?”

Lily looked at her in silent distress.

Eliza reconsidered, ducking her head with a humble glance that seemed to express her recollection that none of the staff had ever known Miss Balfour to do anything improper. “Well,” she conceded at length, “if you
must
speak to that gent’l’man, then I’m sure you’ve got a good reason for it.”

“Thank you, Eliza,” Lily said softly. “I shan’t be long.”

With another wary glance in his direction, Lily saw that Derek Knight had spotted her. Just like in the ballroom, his watchful stare had picked her out of the crowd in the park and now homed in on her.

Her heart beat faster.

Sending her a forceful look from across the green, he turned the horse around and rode off at a handsome trot toward the graveled promenade that girded the Serpentine.

Lily noted the place he selected for their meeting. Tall bushes and stands of trees obscured parts of the walking path around the man-made lake. It was not as secluded as the pineapple folly, but then again, there would not be any kissing going on.

Pity,
a cheeky part of her remarked. She repressed it with a twinge of self-directed shock. “Right,” Lily said at length, her manner turning businesslike. She drew a deep breath and braced herself for the meeting.

While Eliza hung back obediently, Lily walked on toward the Serpentine to do battle with Derek Knight.

CHAPTER

         
SEVEN
         

“W
ell, well, Miss Lily Balfour,” Derek greeted her, savoring her name now that he finally knew it. “We meet again.” Smoothing his reins to the side, he leaned forward slightly in the saddle and surveyed her with an appreciative gaze as she marched toward him.

Having recovered from his initial shock of finding “Mary Nonesuch” at Edward Lundy’s house, Derek paused to reassess his earlier suspicion that Lily Balfour might have something to do with the committee’s missing funds. Sinclair’s strange behavior and Lundy’s shocking revelations must have made him a bit paranoid for a while there, but now he was in a much clearer frame of mind.

Looking at her now, seeing her for what she was—an impoverished aristocratic miss on the marriage mart—he realized his prior suspicion of her was absurd. What did well-bred young ladies know about embezzlement?

Besides, the whimsical girl he had flirted with last night at the garden folly was too much of an innocent to be involved in anything so nefarious.

No, she was merely a fortune hunter, he thought sardonically.
Little fool.
A garden-variety schemer, armed only with her feminine wiles.

She was making a big mistake, of course, throwing herself away on that clod, but Derek now dismissed the idea that Miss Balfour might know anything about committee business. He decided on the spot not to mention it to her. If he broached the subject, it would very likely yield nothing. It would only give her cause to go to her dear Edward and ask questions, and that, in turn, would make Lundy more suspicious of
him.

Best to keep her out of it.

“Dare I hope you’ve come looking for another kiss?” he taunted with a guarded smile.

“Hardly.” The two clipped syllables were terse, no-nonsense. She stopped a few feet away from where he was seated on his horse and looked up at him. “I’ve come to get my earring back, as you well know.”

“You shall have it,” he assured her as he swung down off the horse, then turned to her, looking deeply into her eyes. “Just as soon as we’ve had a little chat.”

She stiffened. “Major, please. Those earrings belonged to my great-great-grandmother.”

“Patience, darling. Don’t you trust me?”

She eyed him skeptically. “How do I know you really have it?”

Derek fished it out of his pocket and showed it to her. Relief flickered in her lavender-blue eyes as she stared at the diamond sparkling between his finger and thumb, but then she lifted her chin and merely let out a prim, “Humph.”

He fought back a smile. “Come. Let us take a promenade.” He offered his arm, but she did not accept it.

She hung back when he started to walk. “I cannot go far,” she warned. “My maid is waiting. She’ll report back to my chaperone if I’m gone too long.”

“Oh, I don’t think Mrs. Clearwell will mind,” he said with a knowing half-smile.

Lily Balfour scowled at him.

Derek laughed. “You worry too much.” With a gentle tug on his horse’s bridle, he began strolling down the graveled lane, exasperating his companion but leaving her no choice but to follow.

When Miss Balfour fell into step beside him, Derek did not look at her, keeping his gaze fixed straight ahead. He spoke in a measured tone. “So, you have set your cap at the encroaching toadstool, Mr. Lundy.”

“Don’t call him that.” she shot back defensively. “I thought you were his friend.”

Derek made no comment.

“Besides, whether I’ve set my cap at anyone or not, I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“Of course it is. It became my business last night.”

She dropped her gaze with a chastened look. In the fleeting silence, he could feel the heated awareness between them fairly vibrating on the air.

“At least now I know why you tried so hard to keep your identity a secret,” he remarked.

“You claim to be an honest man, Major, so why don’t you just come out and tell me what you want?” she demanded, stopping their forward progress and turning to him in exasperation.

He shrugged. “Merely to understand.”

“Understand
what
?” she exclaimed, stealing a nervous glance about at the other people in the park.

“You, Miss Balfour.”

“What about me?”

“I have the strangest feeling that the girl I saw at the Lundys’ today was your usual disguise, so prim and proper. Last night, though you were masked, you showed me your true face, didn’t you? A rare privilege, I suspect.”

“Major, I have no idea what you are talking about,” she replied in a withering tone.

“I think you do,” he whispered with a wicked smile. “Naughty little liar.”

She pulled back and drew herself up in regal indignation. “Did you summon me here just so you could insult me?”

“If anyone here has the right to be insulted, it is I,” he retorted.

“What?”

“You used me,” he accused her.

“You started it! I never asked you to sneak up behind me and grab me.”

“Well, no, but you did ask me to kiss you.”

She looked away, turning beet red. “Can I please have my diamond back?”

“Why are you marrying Lundy?”

“Why are you going back to India?” she countered, slanting him a scornful glance.

“India’s where I belong.”

“Well, I belong with Edward!”

“Oh, come, that’s rubbish and you know it. You left the ballroom last night to get away from him, didn’t you? That’s why I found you out in the garden.”

“Look, I’m not going to discuss this with you. I just want the truth. Are you going to tell Edward what happened last night or not?”

“You think I’d do that?” he asked softly, gazing into her eyes. “Do you distrust all men, or is it just me?”

When he saw how she faltered, he realized he might have pushed her too hard. “You have nothing to fear from me,” he murmured. “I’d just hate to see you make a massive mistake.”

“What mistake?” she asked warily. “What do you mean?”

“Your choice of husbands,” he exclaimed. “The girl who charmed the hell out of me last night was no callous fortune hunter. Is your family forcing you to do this? For I cannot bring myself to believe that such a sordid scheme could ever come from you.”

“Sordid?”

“Miss Balfour, I know your family’s bankrupt. Lundy himself told me so just this morning. I gather that’s partly why this diamond of yours means so much. But you had better know he’s onto you. You’re not fooling him a whit. He knows you’re only after him for his gold, and frankly, he did not appear overly sympathetic to your plight. He is using you for his own advantage.”

She was silent for a long moment, staring at the lake; then she looked at him. “You think I don’t know that?”

“I see. But that’s all right with you because you’re also taking advantage of him.”

“There is no cause to cast it all in such an unsavory light, Major. Surely you understand the way of the world.”

He shook his head at her—a mere chit of a girl telling him about the way of the world.

She furrowed her brow when she noted his cynical stare. “For your information, Mr. Lundy happens to be a—a very agreeable man!” she burst out. Her frustration was rising visibly, probably because she was not convincing herself any more than she was convincing Derek. “He’s a good man! A solid man. He has cause to be proud of himself. Look at all he’s accomplished in life, and he’s barely forty. Edward is a survivor, and that is a quality that I greatly admire.”

“Well, that much may be true.” Derek looked her over. “But I doubt you’ve ever kissed him the way you did me.”

She let out an unladylike curse under her breath and turned away.

“Have I unmasked you again?” he whispered, studying her delicate profile. “Last night, you know, I enjoyed it. A great deal, actually. You left me wanting more.”

“Why are you torturing me?”

“I want to know what we’re going to do about this.”

“About
what
?”

“This,” he whispered, and when he ran the back of one finger along a section of her arm, she quivered violently, then looked at him in fear and backed away, as if she knew that her response to him only underscored the fact that she wanted Lundy as much as she wanted a hole in her head.

She could not hide the fact that she wanted Derek.

And he wanted her.

“You don’t care about Lundy and he doesn’t care about you,” Derek told her. “That’s not a situation that a smart girl like you ought to put herself in. I am sorry for your family’s hardships, but can it really be so bad that you must sell yourself to the likes of him?”

“I beg your pardon,” she forced out bitterly to put him in his place, but he was not so easily deterred.

“You’re better than this, Lily Balfour. Don’t sell yourself for gold. Someone as lovely as you should never join the ugly ranks of cutthroat fortune hunters.”

“How dare you?”
she uttered, taking a step back and glaring at him. She looked truly shaken by his words. Her face was white. “Who do you think you are, to judge me? You, of all people! A—a militaristic adventurer!” she flung out. “As if you can talk! Perhaps I am willing to
marry
to secure my future, but at least I don’t make my living
killing
people!”

Derek’s jaw dropped at her counterattack. He stared at her in astonishment.

“You think you’re better than me?” she charged on. I know why men join up to go and fight in India! Believe me, I know it better than most, so you can get off your moral high horse, Major. Greed, that’s why! Fortune and glory! No doubt you’ll claim it’s for King and country, but the real reason all you foolish males go storming around that horrid place is to try to get your hands on Hindu gold and plunder!”

The moment she said it, Lily realized she had pushed him too far, but so be it! It was true.

Besides, he had overstepped his bounds, too, calling her a fortune hunter, making her feel like an out-and-out harlot for sale at some brothel. The nerve he’d touched was more raw than even she had realized. She had spent too many years submerged in shame to endure this chiding, this load of guilt from him.

But he was not happy with her, that much was plain, and when he spoke, his tone was ice. “Would you prefer that England go bankrupt? Become easy prey for her enemies? In the grand scheme of things, darling, if I kill, it is for England—and for you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t
want
to believe me, no doubt, for then all that blood would be on your hands, too, instead of just mine and my men’s. Civilians,” he said in disgust, shaking his head at her as though it were a name for some loathsome, useless thing.

His eyes had hardened, their expression as closed as silvery-blue mirrors to her now. “Before you accuse me of being some sort of hired mercenary, keep in mind it was the wealth of India that sustained our country through the war against Napoleon. Our nation has a right, indeed, a duty, to do what it must to survive.”

“And so do I,” she answered fiercely.

“Miss Balfour,” he said in a strangled tone, his face taut with rage, “you are very lucky that I am a gentleman.”

He grasped her hand, thrust her earring into her palm, and swung up onto his horse without further ado.

The look he shot her as he gathered the reins could have ground her down into the dust.

Her heart pounding, Lily watched him wheel his horse around with smooth expertise, urging the animal into motion with a click of his tongue and a light squeeze of his legs.

He rode off at a restless canter, leaving her alone.

Lily clutched her earring with such a hard grip that the sharp post on the back of it pricked her palm. The little jab of pain brought her back to the here-and-now, and the grim reality that they had laid bare for each other chased away the idle fantasies that had danced like wisps of smoke at the back of her mind ever since their brief encounter at the garden folly.

The whisper of a happiness that she had just barely glimpsed dissipated like dreams as she stood there. Her body trembled, but she refused to regret this angry break with Derek Knight. They had no business, really, even speaking to each other.