Not Wicked Enough (38 page)

She pushed away from him and spread her arms wide. “Imagine the clothes I could have if I were a nobleman’s wife.”

“You have those clothes now.”

“Yes.” Her eyes sparkled. “But I wouldn’t be spending my money on them. There are economies I would not feel compelled to make. I could have a dress entirely of silver cloth without feeling a moment’s guilt. I should look perfectly stunning in a gown of silver cloth.”

He grinned because he couldn’t help it. “You wouldn’t feel guilty if you had one now.”

“True.” They remained standing quite close. “But I feel I ought to. If I were Lady Fenris, I would feel it my duty to wear only the most fashionable and tasteful gowns and slippers.
And jewels. I don’t see how I could get by without quite a lot of jewels. Ruinously expensive jewels.” She touched her head. “I’ve always wanted a tiara.”

“Is that your sole criteria for marriage? Clothes and jewels? Then by all means tell him yes. When you’ve confirmed he’s the money to keep you in the style to which you wish to be accustomed.”

“If I did say yes, would I have your blessing?”

“No.” The word burst from him, hard as a diamond.

She stepped back, but he followed. “Why not?”

“Because you would not be happy.”

“A casket or two of fabulous jewels would make me quite happy.”

“Buy your own jewels.” He clenched his hands. “You have the money.”

“They’re so much prettier when someone else buys them.” She drew her cloak around her and headed for the bridge. He followed. Of course he followed. When he caught up, she said, “I don’t get many gifts, you know. And that’s an argument in favor of marriage I hadn’t considered. My husband would be obliged to buy me a gift from time to time. Don’t you think?” She touched the medallion around her neck. “Do you know, Mountjoy, that this is the first gift I’ve had these dozen or more years at least?”

“A dozen years?”

“That was when my father stopped speaking to me.”

“What?”

“Well, he did now and then, that couldn’t be helped. It would have been awkward to refuse to speak to one’s daughter in front of the vicar or one’s neighbor. But I recall he once went five months without saying a word to me. Thank goodness for our housekeeper or I might have been as silent as him.” She waved a hand, as if to say it no longer mattered. They were at the bridge and neither of them spoke until they reached the other side. He didn’t know what to say to her. What could he say to her that would not reveal his outrage on her behalf? Her bedamned father had much to answer for.

Back on the path, she faced him while he stood at the end of the stone bridge. “It has occurred to me, Mountjoy, that perhaps the medallion is working as the Gypsy king said it would.”

“It is?”

“Consider the matter.” She crossed her arms beneath her bosom. “Fenris showed up here, didn’t he? Completely unexpected. And he has proposed to me knowing his father will never approve. Why, it must be the medallion. No other explanation makes sense.”

“You can’t be serious.”

She tilted her chin. “Why can’t I be?”

“Because it’s absurd to think magic has anything to do with Fenris pursuing you.”

“Perhaps we’re fated lovers, Fenris and I. Why else would he come all this way to make an offer of marriage to a woman he does not know and of whom his father disapproves?”

He’d never felt as powerless as he did right now. The world was slipping away from him and he did not know how to stop it.

“A dozen reasons.”

“Name three.”

“The estate is bankrupt.”

“It isn’t.”

“You asked for three likely reasons. I’m suggesting the obvious ones. You’re rich. He needs money. He means to anger his father; he sincerely wishes to mend the break between your family and his. He finds you beautiful.”

“That’s five.”

“I can give you five more if you like.”

“That would only be ten, not a dozen.”

“My point, my dear Wellstone, is that any of those are more likely than a bit of metal having the power to draw your lover to you.”

“You, sir, do not possess a poet’s soul.”

“A poet’s soul?” He swept his arms wide, to indicate that
she should examine his attire. “You’ve been here all this time, Lily. Why the devil would you think I have anything like a soul, poetic or otherwise?”

“If I have to explain it to you there’s no hope for either of us.” She turned around and walked away.

“That’s absurd,” he called to her back. Were they having their first argument? He watched the sway of her backside and then followed. “Wellstone.”

“Stop calling me that.” She kept walking.

He caught up and put a hand on her shoulder. Lily turned. “What?” she said.

“This.”

He kissed her. He kissed her with all his heart and soul.

W
HEN THEIR MOUTHS PARTED
, L
ILY STUDIED HIM IN
a way that made the world smaller than it was. He hadn’t meant to kiss her, not like that, but he had and he wasn’t sorry.

His belly tightened. “Lily,” he said softly. “Whatever are you thinking?”

“I could not possibly tell you,” she said, without a trace of a blush.

“Would you if you had sufficient inducement?”

“Doubtful.”

Mountjoy tightened his arms around her, and she did not push away from the closer embrace. “Perhaps if I guessed?”

Her smile turned liquid. “How amusing that might be if you did. Do try.”

“You are a beautiful woman,” he said. “You know that’s so.”

She shook her head. “Not what I was thinking. But thank you.”

He was off-kilter where she was concerned. He’d only met her a short time ago, and they had embarked on an affair with the understanding that their relations would end when
she departed Bitterward. No emotions were to be involved. Part of him knew that this was different, that his feelings for Lily were considerably more complicated than lust. But that did not warrant declarations from him. Hell, he wasn’t certain what he would declare to her and was even less sure she would welcome a declaration of any sort from him.

Tomorrow, she might agree to marry someone else.

“I would risk a great deal for you. You know that.” He didn’t know where those words came from, but he’d said them and neither could nor would take them back. The words were true, and yet he felt he was deceiving himself, that there was more to this for him.

She gave him a pert smile. “Also not what I was thinking.”

He ran a finger underneath her lower lip and tried again. And failed, he knew as the words came out. “We’re lovers, you and I. Lovers such as more poetic souls than I can express.”

Her smile faded, and now she looked as uncertain as he felt. “Are we?”

“We can at least admit that to each other.”

“I admit absolutely nothing.”

“Why should we give that up when it suits us so well?” Again, true words, and yet they also deceived. He was at a private impasse, unable to find words that would convey his true sentiments. How could he when he wasn’t sure himself what he felt? “What reason is there for you to marry your prig of a cousin without love and at the risk of your independence?”

She lifted her chin, and he repeated the touch of his finger along her mouth. “We’d grow to love one another. That’s a reason.”

“No. It’s not, and well you know it.” Lord, she was quick to see beneath his words. Quicker than anyone he knew. “He was a soldier, your Greer was, going off to war. And you loved him.” He touched her cheek, a caress, a plea for her to stay close. “I know you loved him; Lily, my love, I wish you had not lost him. But there’s me now, to touch you like
this and show you that you are adored and desired, and to wish for so much more between us.” He stared into her eyes, thinking he might never sound the depths there. He slid his finger along the line of her cheek. “Will Fenris understand that about you?”

She did not move her head, but placed her palm lightly over his hand. “I knew,” she whispered. “I knew Greer would not return. But I would not change a thing.”

“Passion, once awakened, is not forgotten. Nor love. We never forget that we have loved.”

“No.”

“Lily,” he said. He cajoled. He entreated. “Lily, come to bed with me again. And again. Whenever we so desire it. Don’t leave here until you are well and tired of me.”

She shook her head, but she was not telling him no. “You should not have kissed me like that.” She bit her lower lip. “That wasn’t fair of you at all.”

“I will take you under my protection.” The words came in a rush of desperation. “I am generous, you know I would be. If it’s jewels you want, you may have them. All the gowns you could possibly wear. Ten of silver lace and another ten in gold. I promise you discretion. I promise you your privacy. In bed, you shall have all the passion you desire. No entanglements, no need to give up your independence.” He touched his forehead to hers. “Hell, take me under your protection, if you like.”

She kissed his chin. “And what gifts should I shower upon you in that case?”

“All the waistcoats, coats, and pantaloons you’d like.” He kept his head near hers. His desperation stayed, took up residence in his chest. In his heart. “A set of enameled dueling pistols, if you’re set on indulging my whims. A horse to ride when I am in Town. A carriage. Well sprung.”

She laughed.

Mountjoy continued caressing her. “Are you insulted I’ve asked?”

“I ought to be, but I’m not.” She frowned, but stayed in
his arms. “I suppose that is due to my nature. You’re right. I don’t wish to give up my independence, and Fenris would expect that of me.”

“You have the means to assure your future whoever you take as a lover. For as long as you like.”

“I can’t leave my father on his own.”

“I’ll come to Exeter.”

She lifted her eyes, very quickly, to his. “Would you?”

“I’ve just told you so. I can manage my properties from there.”

“And if there are consequences, Mountjoy? If we remain lovers, what if there are consequences?”

A gentleman took care of his bastards, that went without saying, but Lily wasn’t one of the demimonde, nor a woman used to such arrangements. “We’ll do what we can to prevent that, of course, but if that should come to pass, I won’t abandon you.” His heart raced in his chest, his pulse drummed in his ears. He wanted Lily with him on whatever terms she would accept. “It happens sometimes, you must know that. Even when a man is careful. Even when the woman is careful.”

She chewed on her lower lip.

“I’ll find a home near Syton House and buy you a town house in London. You can come to Town when the Sessions are on. Or we’ll chose someplace halfway between Syton House and Bitterward and see each other there. Say yes, Lily. Say yes.”

“You’ve given me a great deal to think about.”

“So long as your answer is not no out of hand.”

“It’s not.” She put her hand on his arm and they returned to the house. They didn’t speak again until they were in the corridor that led to her room. She faced him and said, “May I ask you a question?”

“You know you may.”

She frowned. “I know why Ginny dislikes Fenris, but why do you?”

“When I was new to the title, hardly a man and rough
about the edges, he was of the opinion, freely shared, that I still stank of dirt and manure. I confess that did not endear him to me.”

“I don’t imagine it would.”

“I was offended, as anyone might be when they discover they are disliked for themselves.”

She patted his hand. “I’m sure he’d say different now.”

“If I were wearing my new clothes, yes.”

“So you admit I was right.”