Her mouth parted on a faint gasp. “I cannot.”
“Why not? Dear lord, we barely know each other, so there can be no possibility that feelings are involved. Surely you do not truly wish to wed me?”
“My papa wishes me to wed you,” she said, finally looking up to meet his gaze. “I cannot disobey him. He will be frightfully angry if I do.”
“And I shall be frightfully angry if you do not.”
Her eyes widened at that, but despite a slight tremble, she held her ground. “I am sorry, my lord, but I have given Papa my word. I cannot go back on it.”
Ethan began pacing again, thumping a fist against the side of his thigh. If simple reasoning would not work, maybe a more direct method would have some effect.
“So you care nothing for the fact that I am in love with another woman?”
Her shoulders tightened, followed by a long pause. “Your mistress, you mean? The one they say you followed outside last night.”
“Yes, the woman I want to make my wife. I ask you not to stand between that, for all of our sakes.”
“Papa says all men have mistresses.”
He swallowed the growl that rose into his throat. “Your papa says a lot of things, does he not? And what has he to say of you and your own happiness? Or haven’t you a right to find pleasure and contentment in your life? Haven’t you the right to find love?”
Her face crumpled at his words, her lower lip quivering before she could prevent the reaction.
“Ah,” he said, moving to sink down next to her on the sofa. “So there is someone else already. Who is he?”
She shook her head. “No one. I should not have said.”
“You did not. Your face did the talking for you. Is he a neighbor?”
Her eyes darted upward, her surprise clear. “How did you know?”
You are seventeen and have lived all your life at home. Who else could it be? he reasoned. Instead of voicing his thoughts aloud, he shrugged. “Lucky guess. What is his name?”
“Robert,” she admitted, her tone warming as she spoke the obviously beloved name. “Robert Hocksby. He is the local vicar’s son and only two years my senior. He and I used to take our lessons together at the vicarage when we were children.”
A smile moved over her mouth, the color back in her face. “We talked of so many things,” she said, “sharing our dearest wishes and most daring dreams. Robert wants to be a physician and has apprenticed with our own village doctor. He would like to attend medical college, then afterward conduct his own research in order to investigate more of the science behind disease. But Papa says—” She broke off, as if suddenly realizing how much she was revealing.
“Yes?” he asked in a soft voice. “What does your father say?”
“He says that physicians, even trained ones, are nothing but quacks and charlatans destined to prey on others for a meager stipend. Robert may have been born a gentleman, but he is an impoverished one and impoverished young men do not marry earl’s daughters, no matter whether feelings are involved or not.”
Looking up, she met his gaze, her expression one of sad resignation. “I am sorry, my lord, but I cannot go against my father. You and I must marry whether we wish to do so or not.” She ran her fingers over a ribbon on her dress. “You may keep her, though, if you wish—your mistress, that is. I understand and will not interfere.”
So she understands, does she? He didn’t think Lily would be quite so generous in her attitude. He could only imagine her explosive reaction were he to suggest such an arrangement. If she didn’t skewer him first, she would most certainly kick him out on his ass. Which, come to think of it, she had already done in a sense, considering the return of his clothes and grooming essentials. No, Lily was not the sort of woman who would be content to share—no more than he would be easy with the notion of her taking another man to her bed. Besides, he didn’t want Amelia Dodd for his wife, even if she didn’t mind him “keeping” Lily.
The muscle ticked near his eye, keen vexation smoldering like a barely cooled ember in his chest. He wanted to reach out and give Amelia a good shake, yell at her a bit more until she saw reason and agreed to free him from his obligation. But he could see such coercion would have little effect.
He could always jilt her, he realized. But such a course would not only brand him as a cad, the act would sully Amelia’s reputation forever. Antiquated as the notion might seem, he knew many still considered an engagement almost as binding as having taken marriage vows. If he were to reject Amelia, her social standing would be permanently damaged, her chances of making a good marriage cruelly diminished. He could not do that to her—or at least he was not ready to do that to her unless such a drastic step proved to be the only solution. Surely there had to be another way out of this disaster, some means of convincing Amelia to defy her father and refuse to marry him. Yet until that time arrived, he supposed he would have to remain engaged to her, whether he wished to be or not.
And what of Lily?
When he arrived here this afternoon, he’d planned to depart a free man. He had intended to go to Lily and explain everything, then afterward, drop down onto a single knee and ask her to be his wife. But obviously that plan would no longer work. He couldn’t very well ask one woman to marry him while still engaged to another! He supposed only the truth would do. Surely once he explained the situation to Lily, she would forgive him and be willing to wait. Gazing again at his “fiancée,” he decided to give persuasion one more try.
“Amelia,” he said. “I cannot believe your father will refuse to let you end this engagement, if you explain to him that is what you truly wish. Say you cannot stand the sight of me and that after last night you think I am a beast. He’ll huff and puff a bit, but then he will adjust. And by the time the full Season arrives this spring, this incident will have faded from everyone’s minds, leaving you free to seek another worthy beau.”
She gave him a pitying look. “My lord, you obviously do not know my father as well as you think. Ever since you approached him a few months ago, he has talked of little else but our impending nuptials.”
A scowl furrowed his brow. “I asked him to say nothing to you on the subject.”
“Well, he did. You may not realize this, but he has been anticipating a marriage between our families quite literally for years. You and I are his only hope of achieving that aim, and now that a wedding is arranged between us, he is not about to let me call it off because I have taken a supposed dislike to you. I am afraid such an idea will not serve.” She sighed. “I am sorry, my lord.”
But not sorry enough! he raged silently. Not sorry enough to end this dreadful misalliance by calling it off.
“Very well, Miss Dodd. I see I must at present accept your refusal.” At least until I can think of a way out.
Standing, he executed a clipped bow. “Good day to you, my lady.”
“Good day, my lord.”
Fists set at his side, he strode from the room.
Chapter Twenty
LILY PUSHED ASIDE her uneaten nuncheon, together with the cup of tea that sat on the tray, both the food and beverage having long since grown cold. She knew she should force herself to do something, anything other than continue to sit idle here in the chair in her sitting room, staring into the fire. If only she could somehow find the will.
Later, she decided. I will busy myself with an activity later, but not right now. Sleep is an activity, though, is it not? She could do with a long afternoon nap. After all, she had not slept last night. The rest would do her good. More important, sleep would let her escape, let her forget her present misery as she curled up inside a warm cocoon of oblivion.
Climbing out of her chair, she started toward her bedroom, but before she’d taken more than a few steps a knock came at the sitting-room door. Hoping whoever it was would go away, she said nothing. When the door opened despite a lack of invitation, she expelled a sigh and turned to face the intruder.
“Pardon the interruption, ma’a
m,” said her butler, an apologetic expression on his face, “but Lord Vessey is here. I know you gave explicit instructions that he not be received, but he insists upon seeing you.”
Her tiredness disappeared, her spine straightening as though she had been whipped by a lash. “I assume you told him that I am not at home.”
“Yes, ma’am. He…um…he says he can tell when I am prevaricating and, um—how did he put it?—I am to inform you that he isn’t going away until the two of you have talked.”
Isn’t going away, is he? she fumed. Well, he can wait downstairs until snowflakes start to fall in Egypt.
“Pray advise his lordship that anything he has to say can be addressed to me by letter.” Which I will cheerfully burn upon its arrival, she promised herself. “Then inform him that he can either leave this house voluntarily or be thrown out. You and the footmen should be up to the task.”
Alarm lines carved themselves deep in Hodges’s brow. “Oh, ma’am, I do not think that would be wise. He won’t go easily and the marquis is a lord, after all. Laying hands upon a member of the nobility can land a man in gaol.”
She tsked and shook her head. “Lord Vessey is not going to have you tossed in prison. Besides, he’ll know you were only doing my bidding.”
“She’s right,” remarked a resonant voice from the threshold. “I would not sic the law upon you, Hodges, though I might beat you and the footmen senseless first. I am rather handy with my fives, and I expect you would have a devil of a time wrestling me past the threshold.”
Lily glared at Ethan. “You are supposed to be downstairs.”
He quirked a defiant brow and strolled into the room. “I came up.”
“Well, you can go back down.” She thrust a finger toward the door. “Be gone, my lord. I have nothing to say to you.”
“Good. Perhaps then you’ll keep silent long enough to listen to me this time.” He cast a meaningful glance at the waiting servant. “That will be all, Hodges.”
She set her fists on her hips. “Do not order my servants around. You have no right. Particularly since you are no longer welcome in this residence.”
A muscle on the underside of Ethan’s jaw flexed tight. “One of the many things we need to discuss.” He strode farther into the room and took up a position near the fireplace. Crossing his arms, he met her gaze, his expression reflecting the same stubborn defiance that was visible in his posture.
Lily restrained the urge to stamp one of her feet in frustration. Short of having him tossed bodily out of the house—which her manservants were apparently too pusillanimous to attempt—there would be no getting rid of him. At least not until she listened to whatever he’d come to say. “Hodges,” she stated in a quiet voice. “You may withdraw.”
The butler darted a glance between her and Ethan. “Yes, ma’am.” Retreating into the hallway, he shut the door behind himself and left them alone.
“Well then, speak,” she commanded. “And be quick about it, so you may depart with equal haste.”
He dropped his arms to his sides. “Must we be at daggers drawn?”
She shot him a look that was hot enough to weld iron. “Yes, I believe we must and you have only yourself to blame. I suppose that is what comes of being manipulated and deceived.”
“I did not deceive nor manipulate you,” he stated through clenched teeth.
She drew in an audible breath. “Hah! And I suppose you are going to tell me I imagined seeing your engagement notice in this morning’s paper. You are affianced to that girl, are you not?”
His lips thinned. “At the moment, yes, but I’m—”
“Then I have heard everything I need to hear.” Bile burned under her sternum, threatening to leave a hole in its wake. “The door is there. Shut it on your way out.”
He growled low in his throat. “I’m not leaving until you let me have my say. Why are you so determined to deny me?”
Because I can’t risk letting go of my anger and possibly letting you in again, not when the wound you’ve already inflicted has cut so deep. “Because I don’t care to listen to more of your excuses and prevarications!” she said aloud. “How many times must I say it?”
With fury boiling in her blood, she looked around, her gaze alighting on a small porcelain figurine of a shepherdess and a lamb. Without thinking, she picked it up and hurled the china full force at his head. He ducked, the figurine shattering into a dozen pieces against the fireplace surround. Tears stung her eyes, appalled by what she’d done. Blinking fast, she refused to weep, determined not to let him see the extent of her distress.
“Last night was not my idea,” he defended, plainly braced to dodge anything else she planned to throw in his direction. “I had no idea my mother was going to do what she did. If I had, I would have stopped her.”
“And what difference would that have made? Obviously, you were secretly engaged, even if it had not been announced yet.”
“I was not engaged. It’s true that I spoke to Amelia Dodd’s father several months ago before I had even met you. But there was no marriage agreement, and no engagement between Lady Amelia and myself.”
“Your mother and the earl obviously believed there to be.”
His fingers drew taut at his sides. “The earl believes what he wants to in order to satisfy his own objectives. As for my mother…well, she knows better and proceeded regardless in order to force my hand. Sutleigh and Mama have been dynasty-building in their heads for decades. One of my brothers was supposed to do the honor of joining the families by marriage, but after Arthur’s and Frederick’s deaths, the task fell to me. I should never have even entertained the notion of acceding to their plans—”
“But you did,” she accused.
He met her gaze. “I wasn’t going to marry her. I had already decided to speak with Lord Sutleigh and tell him I would not be offering for his daughter, after all. I would have talked to him before the ball had I realized he was in town.”
“Oh, and all these weeks before, you had no access to pen and ink?”
He raked his fingers through his hair, sending the golden strands into a disarray that only made him more appealing. Lily cursed herself for noticing, and for being susceptible to his magnetism even now. The strength to resist him will come with time, she assured herself, desolation sweeping through her like a bitter January wind.
“Frankly, I had all but forgotten about my overtures in that direction,” he said. “Nothing was settled between us, or so I thought, and I was far too wrapped up in you to pay the matter any heed.”
“So now I am to blame for your inability to remember being engaged.”
“How many times do I have to tell you, I was not engaged!” he roared.
“Perhaps not then, but you are now,” she said in a quiet voice. Oh God, he is to marry another and the knowledge is tearing me apart! She held her arms close to her chest and struggled against the need to tremble.
He tossed up a hand. “Yes, all right, fine, I am engaged. But it is only temporary. You have to believe that I do not want to marry her.”
In that, she could see he was being honest. Releasing a sigh, she lowered her arms to her sides. “Even if I do believe you, it changes nothing. You are engaged to…” She swallowed and tried to say the name, but the appellation refused to travel past her lips. “…th-that girl, and the matter cannot be undone.”
“Yes, it can,” he stated, striding forward. “And it will. I’ll find a way.”
“What way, Ethan? Not counting the seventy-five or so people who heard the announcement last night, there is the notice in The Morning Post to consider. There is no taking this back. You are pledged to her.” She paused and drew a shaky breath. “Unless she is foolish enough to change her mind and release you from your promise, the engagement will stand.”
He narrowed the space between them. “It will not. I will see this travesty ended one way or the other. Right now, she is refusing to call off the engagement, but I will find a way to convince her otherwise
.”
“So you’ve spoken with her already?”
“Yes. I came here directly from meeting with her. I couldn’t let another minute go by without talking to you. I tried to explain all this last night, if you will recall, but you were too upset to listen. Now, you are finally hearing me out.” He wrapped his hands around her arms. “Lily, you are the one I want—not her, never her. Give me time to straighten this out; trust me enough to make things right again.”
“But how can I when you lied to me? How can I trust anything you say when you deceived me from the start?”
“Because I love you.”
Her heart turned over in her chest. Loves me? she wondered. Does he truly?
A need rose inside her, so sharp it was very nearly painful. Lord, how she wanted to believe him. How she longed to put aside her hurt and anger and accept his declaration without the necessity for questions or doubt. What a relief it would be to set aside all this discord between them and simply go on as before. To once again be held within the sheltering strength of his arms, secure in the knowledge that he loved her as she loved him. Yet as much as she ached to give in––and heaven knew she did––something continued to hold her back.
“If you do love me,” she challenged, “you certainly have an odd way of showing it.”
He gazed into her eyes for a long, intense moment. “Maybe this will better demonstrate my feelings,” he murmured. Before she could object, his mouth lowered to hers as he swept her into an embrace she found herself powerless to deny.
Seductive and sensual, the thrill of his kiss blazed through her with the quick, raging heat of a summer fire. Yielding, she let him take her deep, drawing her into their own private world where nothing existed but lush need and boundless pleasure. Softening, she returned his kiss, matching his passion with her own. Breath ragged, she savored the intoxicating scent of his skin, opening her lips wider to capture the dark, luscious flavors that lingered like honey on his tongue.
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