He looked around for her once more with the unpleasant feeling that he was lost at sea in this crowd without her at his side.
She made him feel as though he were home.
He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed that—how much he’d missed her—until he’d had her back in his life these past few days.
He no longer cared what his family wanted, he knew what he yearned for for the first time in years. Lily was right. It was liberating.
He headed toward the doors to the veranda, knowing it would be the first place she would head when she joined the party. His Lily hated the constraints of moving within the crush of the crowd.
He passed Daisy and Griff on his way out, but they did not notice him passing. Merrick grinned and shook his head.
If what he felt for Lily was lunacy, then perhaps it was contagious.
He was so far gone in this new affliction of the heart that he did not notice Abigail until she was at his side.
“Lord Merrick, how lovely to see you.” Her sweet, soft, high-pitched voice was like a splash of cold water on this warm summer eve.
He stiffened. He’d been facing the gardens, daydreaming about how he would ask Lily to be his bride and now he tumbled back to reality with a jolt.
Summoning every ounce of decorum he possessed, he turned to face the woman he’d been foolish enough to believe ought to be his wife. “Lady Abigail,” he murmured.
He could not quite bring himself to return the sentiment. Perhaps it was from spending so much time with Lily lately but that small fib that indicated social grace stuck in his mouth. “It’s nice to see you too”—would not leave his lips.
“How have you been? How is your dear mother?” That was how her litany of questions began. No hint of acknowledgement that the last time she’d seen his mother was the last time she’d seen him. When she’d made it quite clear that his suit was no longer wanted once his brother had shown an interest.
He answered her questions mildly, but all the time he watched her. He studied her.
And he kicked himself for ever having been fooled by her.
Here, now, after his time with Lily and his past with Abigail...it was all so painfully obvious. Her beauty was so superficial, her kindness only skin-deep. She knew how to say all the pretty words, and she said them with a charming smile.
But right now, he felt nothing. No sense of regret at what they might have had. If anything, all he could feel was relief that she’d shown her true nature before he’d asked for her hand.
“And how is your brother?” she asked when he failed to make any attempts at leading this conversation.
“Fine.” He could only marvel at her skills, really. He tilted his head to the side as he studied her. Not even a hint of embarrassment or shame at having tossed him over for a chance with his brother. No sign of heartbreak or regret that the future marquess had chosen another.
Clearly Abigail wished to turn back time. She was acting as if none of that had ever happened.
He noticed that the crowd around them had dwindled, only a few couples remained now that the breeze was picking up and clouds rolled overhead.
A storm was coming. He could feel it in the air.
His gaze dropped when her hand landed on his arm. He stared at her small, gloved hand for a full second in something akin to horror.
“Merrick,” Abigail murmured, her voice softening along with her gaze. “There is so much I’ve been meaning to say to you…”
He blinked. Was this really happening?
“I know I have made mistakes, but I wish for us to start over.”
He stared at her. She did nothing so gauche as blush. She did not even fidget beneath his stare. Her smile grew, her gaze turned knowing. “We made a good fit, the two of us. Your mother approved, I know. And your father has spoken to mine about how much he wishes for our families to align.”
His mother. His father. Her smile was so smug beneath that sweet facade.
She knew exactly what she was doing. In the time they spent together he’d let it slip, his desire to live up to their expectations. His overwhelming need to make them happy.
Not because he was such a thoughtful and considerate son but because…
He let out a sharp exhale as he realized the truth of it.
Because he wished for their approval. Just once he’d wanted them to look upon him as they did his brother. He’d come back from the continent with the naive hope that if he merely acted the part, if he found the right lady and made the right match then they would accept him and love him the way they adored his brother.
Abigail must have taken his silence as a signal of his assent because she shifted closer, her eyelashes batting up at him as she continued talking in sweet soft whispers about how wonderful they could be together.
He listened to her as if from a distance as he realized just how wrong he had been.
How right Lily had been.
It was one thing to try and make his family proud. It was entirely another to base his future happiness on trying to make them happy.
And Abigail? She would never have made him happy. Not the way that being with Lily filled him with joy and life and passion.
It was with a sense of sadness that he went to withdraw his arm from her grasp. Not sadness over Abigail, but over his own ridiculous childish notions. It was time to admit that his parents might never approve of him—not the way they did his brother.
But there was one person out there who’d never needed him to change in order to care for him. Lily hadn’t even wanted him to change.
That thought brought a smile, and he watched in alarm as Abigail’s face lit up as well.
His smile turned to a grimace. He hadn’t meant to lead her on. He cleared his throat. “Lady Abigail, while I appreciate what you have said—”
“Haven’t you done enough?” Lily’s voice startled him so badly he found himself blinking over at her in shock.
“When did you arrive?” he asked.
She did not look up at him. She was too busy glaring at Abigail through narrowed eyes, her lips pressed together in a fierce scowl.
Oh dear. He knew this look. It was the same expression she’d worn before laying into him three years ago and effectively ending their friendship.
It was a look that meant war.
“Lily,” he started, a note of warning in his voice.
She ignored it, leaning forward until she was right in Abigail’s face. “You and your cold heart don’t deserve a gentleman like Lord Merrick.”
Abigail’s eyes widened, her lips parting in an O of surprise.
Merrick didn’t wish to admit how much her words made his heart lighten. He really ought to put an end to this. And even so, he wished to hear what Lily had to say. His lips curved up in a grin as he watched his little spitfire clench her fists as she faced off with the woman who’d hurt his pride.
His pride, but not his heart.
“You will never deserve him, so take your twisted morals and your cruel words and return to the party where the rest of the partygoers don’t see that you are a fake,” Lily continued.
Abigail seemed to remember herself then, and she burst out in a laugh that had the few stragglers left on the veranda, glancing their way. Or perhaps that was Lily’s sharp tone that had them gawking.
“Why, if it isn’t Miss Upton,” Abigail drawled. Her voice was still sweet but it was laced with amusement—the mocking kind.
Oh dear.
Merrick grabbed Lily’s elbow, more than a little afraid that his little hellion might pounce.
“Come along, Lily,” he urged softly.
“No, not until I tell her where she can—”
“Lily,” he interrupted.
But Abigail was laughing. “Oh this is sweet. Really, Laura, I always knew you had feelings for your friend, but why are you embarrassing yourself with this behavior?” She turned to Merrick with a knowing smile that said they were in on some joke.
Merric
k stiffened at the sight of it, but unlike Lily, he knew how to show restraint.
“Did I not warn you, Lord Merrick? I’m afraid Miss Upton never did learn how to be a proper young lady. I understand her childish infatuation must be difficult for you to ignore, but I must caution you once again.” Her gaze drifted over to Lily. “It really would be best for you to stay away before her unruly behavior tarnishes your family’s good name.”
Lily sneered, her lips parting to say something nasty, of that he was certain.
In that moment, he could not give a fig for his family’s name. All he cared about was Lily...and making sure she did not do something she would regret forever.
“Lily, please,” he said under his breath, leaning over so only she could hear. “She’s already hurt us both enough.”
She looked up at him, her eyes wide, her expression stricken. It was there and gone quickly, and then she was reaching for him, gripping his arm tightly as she turned back to Abigail with what could only be described as a snarl. “If you believe I’ll sit back and let you hurt him again, you can think again.”
And then she was...well, she was dragging him. He could have stopped it, of course. She wasn’t strong enough to pull him against his will, but he was so stunned he followed her until they’d rounded the corner and she slumped against a wall.
He took her into his arms as fear replaced every other emotion. She was too pale, her breathing labored. “Lily, are you alright?”
She nodded quickly. And then she shook her head.
That was when he saw tears welling in her eyes.
He tugged her into his arms. “Are you ill? Shall I call for a doctor? Your mother? Shall I—”
“No, I—” She stopped with a gasp. “I am not sick. I am just…” She covered her face with her hands. “I caused a scene back there.”
Relief crashed through him and he held her closer. Her words registered a moment later. She had caused a scene. And dragging him away from the party…
He groaned into her hair. “Oh Lily.”
She pulled her head back so she could look up at him. “I’m sorry, Merrick. I know I was too rash.”
Too rash? He bit back another groan as he fully realized the impact of what had just occurred. Her actions could ruin her reputation forever.
Her eyes grew wide as she stared up at him. “I don’t think the others saw us leave and—”
He cut her off with a kiss. It was all he was capable of at the moment because emotions were flooding through him too fast and furious. Unlike their first kiss, this one was far from gentle. His lips covered hers and when she gasped in surprise, he deepened the kiss, too hungry to care that anyone could come around that corner.
What did it matter? She had already sealed her fate.
She would have to marry him now or risk ruination.
His arms tightened around her as he kissed her fiercely, his little warrior. When he pulled back, both of their breathing labored, he honestly did not know if he wished to thank her or scream at her.
She’d done that for him. This little spitfire had caused a scene and taken on a darling of the ton because she cared about him and that—that was...infuriating.
And endearing.
He ran a hand over her tousled hair as she gaped up at him. “What was that for?” she asked breathlessly.
He choked on a laugh as he leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers with another groan. “Lily, my dear. I believe you are going to be the death of me.”
Chapter Nine
Melting. Lily was melting into his arms as he kissed her again. It was the only word that her brain seemed able to think as his lips moved over hers. She was melting.
Which was a good thing, indeed. Because otherwise she’d have to face the litany of other thoughts that had been vying in her head just moments before.
Thoughts about how she’d just caused an immense scene. The very sort that Merrick would surely despise.
While she didn’t give a fig what others thought of her, he did. And people had been watching.
What was worse, Abigail had been perfectly calm, smug even. Lily was the one who’d been yelling.
It was just that she’d never had the opportunity to tell Abigail how abhorrent she really was. In fact, if she thought about it, she hadn’t said nearly enough. She reached for his biceps, fisting his coat in her hands as she kissed him with all her passion. All her feeling for him.
It was one thing that Abigail had hurt her all those years ago. She’d been weak and too hurt to defend herself.
But to try and manipulate Merrick, Lily couldn’t tolerate it. It had brought out every protective instinct she possessed. She didn't give a whit what happened to her. Society could accept or reject her. She’d make her own life.
But Merrick. He’d tolerate Abigail’s abuse just to be polite. That, Lily would not allow.
Of course, it hadn’t escaped her notice that Abigail had hurt him tonight. She’d seen it on his face.
And that hurt her too. Not just in sympathy for him but her own heart ached.
Because it was obvious he cared for the other woman. Abigail couldn’t have made him look so stricken if Merrick didn’t care.
That cut her to the bone.
So she kissed him back desperately, wanting to capture this moment for her own. Though the ghost of her old friend haunted even this.
And then she wasn’t a ghost at all.
“Oh dear,” Abigail clucked her tongue just behind them. “This is scandalous.”
Merrick stiffened against her lips as his arms tightened about her waist. “Go away, Abigail.”
His voice rang with an authority she rarely heard and Lily pulled back just an inch to look into the dark, glittering depths of his eyes. They’d grown hard.
Was he angry that they’d been caught?
The truth hit her with a sickening jolt. Of course he was angry. If word spread, it would be a scandal, the very thing he abhorred.
She opened her mouth to tell him that he needn’t be bothered on her account. She’d be fine but as she opened her mouth to speak, Abigail managed to cut her off.
“But it’s just that I can’t, in good faith, leave, knowing that my dear old friend is being compromised.”
Lily’s gaze narrowed. “Which dear old friend are you referring to? Myself? The person you publicly ridiculed for an entire season or the man that you—”
“Lily,” Merrick cut in.
“I was talking about you, Laura. A poor, sick wallflower without any prospects being used in the garden like a—”
“Enough,” Merrick cut in, his voice sharp as glass. “You’ve spread enough poison for one evening.”
“Poison?” Abigail shook her head. “How can you say such things?”
“Your proposal—” he started.
Lily winced. She’d overheard enough to know that Abigail attempted to rekindle their relationship.
“Was an earnest request made in good faith.” Abigail leaned against a statue as she assessed them. “And one I still think you ought to consider.”
He shook his head, easing back from Lily. For a moment, she was disappointed. The feel of him eased her worry at this interaction. Not that she was afraid of Abigail. She wasn’t at all. But her stomach churned to think of how Merrick might be feeling. Was he terribly angry at Lily?
But then he discreetly tucked her behind him.
Which was terribly sweet and entirely necessary, and eased her nerves considerably. Her hand lightly brushed the small of his back.
“I’ve considered,” he answered. “I reject your proposal.”
Abigail tsked. “But our families. They support this match.”
He shook his head. “I don’t give a flying fig.”
Lily covered her mouth to keep a giggle from escaping. In other circumstances, she might interrupt but she’d given Abigail the set-down she’d wished to issue for ages and it seemed to be Merrick’s turn.
“What?” Abigail’s t
one was indignant as she pushed off the statute. “You haven’t properly considered. If you did, you’d see that—”
“Abigail,” Merrick held up a hand. “Please save your breath. Your actions have done all the talking and there is nothing left to say. You and I have no future. That is all there is to it.”
“No. It is not.” Her hands fisted at her sides for a moment before she raised a finger and pointed it at Lily. “You were kissing her in the garden while alone.”
“So?” The single word popped from Lily’s mouth before she could hold it back. “It is none of your concern.”
“Isn’t it?” Abigail huffed. “I have something I want. You have a secret you don’t want to be spread through this party and then all of society.”
Blackmail? Lily should have known. “You are awful. Just awful.”
Merrick looked back, giving her a fierce glare. She took a half step back, never having seen that face before.
Abigail sniffed. “Try to understand. My mother won’t accept another failure on my part.”
“Your mother is your problem, I’m afraid.” Merrick stepped closer to Abigail. “There won’t be a scandal. Lily and I are getting married.”
Lily gasped, and the sound echoed back at her from Abigail’s lips. Shock had Lily standing silent, her mind trying and failing to keep pace with this sudden turn of events.
“You can’t mean that.” Abigail cried. “You and I—”
“I meant every word.” He pointed toward the house. “Good night, Abigail. Sleep well.”
The other woman gave a slow turn and, shoulders hunched, started back toward the house.
Triumph coursed through Lily’s veins as she watched the other woman go. Over these past few years, she’d pictured just such a scenario, and all her fantasies of telling Abigail how terrible she was paled in comparison to the set-down Merrick had just given her nemesis. “That was…” Wonderful, thrilling, satisfying. The words flitted through her thoughts as she attempted to pick the correct one.
A Lord for Miss Lily: A Wallflower’s Wish Page 7
