Stolen Kisses

by Suzanne Enoch

  Back in her bed chamber, she summoned Emily and swiftly changed into her patterned peach and yellow muslin. Her nerves jangled, even knowing that what she was about to do was for her and Jack’s own good. After all, exciting and necessary as it was, she had little experience in trapping dukes into confessions of murder. When Aunt Eugenia pranced into the room, Lilith stifled an irritated sigh. “Good morning.”

  “What are you doing still practically to bed?” With an exaggerated frown, Eugenia strolled over to the window. “You should not keep His Grace waiting, dear.”

  Lilith motioned for Emily to finish putting up her hair. “He isn’t here yet, Aunt Eugenia.”

  “He will here at any moment. Remember to smile, Lilith, and to comment on the loveliness of the day—and to mention that you missed his presence at the Mistner’.”

  “Yes, Aunt,” Lilith agreed. She intended to be completely pleasant and flattering and dimwitted, so that she could convince him to give away more than he realized when she began asking questions.

  “And for heaven’s sake don’t get into one of your flights. You’ve tried his patience far beyond understanding, already.”

  “Yes, Aunt.”

  Actually, it was he who had tried her patience, but it would never do to get into an argument with Aunt Eugenia over it. The less anyone in her family knew of her true feelings for the Duke of Wenford and for the Marquis of Dansbury, the better it would be for her. She’d hoped for their understanding, but at this point she could only pray that they wouldn’t interfere until after she and Jack were able to stop Dolph. After that—there would be time to explain things and to let them know that she was in love with someone else. And while he might not be the man they had envisioned for her, he was everything she’d ever wanted.

  Lilith only wished she knew whether Jack had found what he truly wanted in her. She smoothed away her small frown as her aunt glanced in her direction. When he’d suggested flight last night, it was clear that he meant them to flee together. Whether the idea of marriage had entered his unconventional mind, she didn’t know, but there was time to decide what remained for them after she was certain he wouldn’t hang.

  At the sound of a coach clattering up the drive, she jumped and stood to let Emily wrap a warm shawl across her shoulders. Aunt Eugenia followed her downstairs, her single-minded advice on pleasing behavior increasingly annoying. If her aunt had shown the least bit of compassion over Lilith’s turmoil, or if she had even bothered to notice that her niece was troubled, Lilith wouldn’t have minded her constant lecturing so much. But Aunt Eugenia was nearly as obsessed as her father over the Benton family reputation.

  Lord Hamble had gone out to greet Dolph in his barouche, and Lilith heaved a sigh of relief that the duke hadn’t come for her in a closed carriage. His Grace didn’t bother standing until she reached the side of the carriage and stopped beside her father, but she refused to be affronted or annoyed. The more lightly he regarded her, the more chance her plan had of succeeding.

  She curtsied as he offered her a hand up into the barouche. “Good day, Your Grace.” She smiled, gripping his fingers and stepping up into the carriage beside him.

  “Miss Benton.” He nodded and gestured her to sit opposite him.

  Again she was relieved. They would have to spend the ride looking at one another, but the further away she was from him, the better she liked it.

  He was dressed to the height of fashion, though she didn’t consider that a particular compliment to her presence. Dolph Remdale always dressed impeccably, just as he always comported himself with the utmost dignity and charm—so long as anyone who mattered happened to be a witness. She’d already glimpsed what he could be like when there were no consequences, and she would be careful.

  “I thought we might venture to the north of town, if you’ve a mind,” he said politely, resuming his seat.

  A twinge of uneasiness ran through Lilith. She’d hoped they might picnic in one of London’s parks, where they would not be entirely alone. Dolph’s blue-eyed gaze met hers, his expression changing slightly to a less pleasant and better-remembered one, and she nodded. “That would be delightful.”

  With her father waving happily and urging them to spend a pleasant day together, the barouche trundled back down the drive and then turned north. Lilith sat facing backward, which always served to unsettle her stomach, and after a few moments spent gazing out at the familiar streets, she was nervous enough to want to begin setting things in motion.

  “You’ve chanced on a lovely day for a picnic, Your Grace,” she offered with a smile, gesturing at the blue sky and its scattering of windblown white clouds.

  “Yes, I have,” he agreed, looking down at his pocket watch and then favoring her with a glance before he returned to his perusal of their surroundings.

  She kept the bright smile on her face. “You were missed at the Mistners’ the other evening.”

  “No doubt I was,” he returned, looking at her again, his expression aloof. “Not by you, though.”

  “Of course by me, Your Grace,” she protested. “We are betrothed, after all.”

  He laughed, and a responding shiver of uneasiness ran down her spine. “We are betrothed because I will ruin you if you refuse to marry me,” he said. “Don’t pretend you like this match.”

  “Your Grace, you have misjudged my connection with the Marquis of Dansbury, but the result is that we are to be married.” She forced a smile back onto her lips. “The match is made, and I am to be the Duchess of Wenford.” He thought her dim; he might as well think her greedy, if it would convince him that her own morality was as lacking as his own.

  “Hm.”

  Eventually they passed out of the city and through Highbury, and she began to worry that he was going to take them all the way to Cambridge. Once they reached Wood Green, however, the driver turned them into Alexandra Park. Lilith breathed a silent sigh of relief. Although there was no one about whom she knew, at least it wasn’t some empty glade in the woods.

  She glanced at Dolph as he rose and stepped down from the barouche. She wondered why he hadn’t chosen a place where it would be just the two of them. And whether perhaps he wasn’t quite as confident as he wanted her to think. Evidently he wanted witnesses about—so long as they were witnesses who wouldn’t dare speak against him.

  For a moment she thought she was going to have to make her own way to the ground, but as she stood, Dolph returned to hold up a hand and help her down the pair of steps.

  “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  He released her hand and otherwise ignored her. “Beneath that tree, Finter.”

  The driver hopped to the ground and removed a picnic basket and blanket from the seat beside him. He opened the blanket and set it out on the grass, placed the basket on one corner, and then returned to the carriage.

  “Wait for us by the road.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.” Finter climbed back into his seat and guided the team toward the edge of the park.

  Lilith wished the driver had stayed, but wasn’t surprised that Dolph had sent him away. There were other picnickers and riders in the park, but none close enough to overhear any conversation, or even to take much note of the pair of them sitting in the grass. Even so, Lilith searched out where the closest chance for assistance lay, just in case she needed to flee.

  “Sit,” he ordered, and gestured her toward the blanket.

  Swallowing her annoyance, Lilith obediently stepped forward and sank down onto the spread covering the grass. Whatever he felt toward her, he had to at least desire her. He had been the one to suggest the marriage, after all. The thought of him touching her and holding her as Jack had, left her nauseated. But this was for Jack, and deep in her heart, she hoped it was for the two of them.

  “Your Grace,” she began, as he seated himself beside her and opened the picnic basket, “I know that you have been angry at me, but I beg you to give me the opportunity to prove myself to you. I do not believe that either one of us could lo
ok forward to a hostile relationship, however badly it may have begun.”

  “Very smooth,” he commented, handing her a peach. “Just what I would have expected you to say.”

  “Why should you not?” she pursued. “It is a logical request, is it not?”

  Dolph narrowed his eyes, but continued handing out the contents of the basket. “I suppose.”

  It wasn’t nearly as much as she had hoped for, but Lilith was relieved even at that small concession. She needed to reassure him, to set him more at ease so that his arrogance and pride would make him want to gloat. “My father tells me you’ve applied to Canterbury for a special license, and that we may be wed by the end of the month,” she said conversationally.

  “You expect me to forget your hysterics?” he returned bluntly. “Don’t think to make a fool of me, girl. I know you don’t want to marry me, but I don’t care. Dansbury thinks he’s so bloody clever, but he’s going to lose both you and his head.”

  “I am not his to lose,” Lilith said stiffly. “He has been hounding me, and I find him to be a great annoyance. And lately I have seen nothing of him at all, thank goodness.” She was gratified to hear her voice pronounce the lie with such calmness and certainty that she could almost believe it herself.

  “Indeed. And the earring?”

  “His Grace, your uncle, was always demanding baubles from me,” she answered calmly, shrugging. “I can only presume that he snatched my earring without my knowledge.”

  “I can only presume that you’re lying, Miss Benton. And from this moment on, you’d best behave. Whatever you say about your damned earring, it’s still enough to ruin you.”

  “I don’t know why you feel the need to protect yourself from me,” she commented. “I am no threat to you.”

  “And I intend to keep it that way.” He looked over at her, then unexpectedly reached out to take her hand in his. “You’ll be a good, dutiful wife, won’t you?”

  “Of course, Your Grace.” She smiled agreeably, the skin of her hand crawling where he touched it.

  “You are beautiful,” he said almost grudgingly, running his fingers across hers. “My uncle was right about that, anyway.”

  “You and your uncle discussed me?” Lilith encouraged him to continue.

  “My uncle was obsessed with possessing you, and with getting sons on you.” Dolph smiled. “A task I look forward to, myself, I must admit.”

  “Then we can have an amicable relationship,” Lilith declared, keeping the naive smile plastered on her face while another jolt of horror went through her.

  “Amicable as long as you prove yourself worthy of being the Duchess of Wenford,” he commented. His fingers crept slowly up her bare arm, like a spider stalking a trapped insect. “No fits of temper, no hysterics, no rebellions.”

  “Is that why you asked me out here? To set the rules by which I may become your bride?” Lilith tried to extricate her hand, but couldn’t do so without a struggle. “I assure you, this is what my family wants. I will not go against their wishes.”

  “And what about Dansbury’s wishes?”

  “I know nothing of them.” Lilith took a breath and leaned closer into his embrace, wondering at her own boldness. “I do think it’s clever that you’ve managed to outsmart him. My brother says no one even speaks to him any longer.”

  Dolph turned his gaze toward the nearest of their fellow picnickers. Abruptly his open palm caught Lilith across the cheek in a stingingly hard slap. She blinked, stunned, while he tightened his grip on her arm and jerked her closer.

  “Don’t try your games on me, girl,” he hissed, his eyes hard and ugly. “I don’t know what you think you know, and I don’t care. But don’t doubt that I can and will ruin you, or that I have enough evidence to get Jack Faraday hanged.” He smiled grimly. “And if that doesn’t work, finding an enemy to finish the task will be easy enough.”

  “Let me go!” Lilith cried, trying to wrench her arm free. Jack had said Dolph abused his female staff, but she had never thought he would dare strike her. No one had ever hit her before! And even more horrifying was the thought that if he felt free to hit her now, nothing would stop him from doing worse once they were married. But they would not be married. If she’d had any doubts on that count at all, Dolph had just answered them.

  “Do you understand me?” the duke murmured, pulling her closer still, so that her face was only a few inches from his.

  “I will not marry you!”

  He shook her harder. “Be grateful I chose marriage for you.” Dolph grabbed her chin and then shoved her face away. “There are other alternatives. Understand, my dear?”

  “Yes,” she rasped, shuddering. Killing her, or Jack, would be nothing to a man who’d murdered his own kin.

  “Then sit quietly and finish your luncheon,” he ordered, and abruptly released her.

  “Never touch me again!” She moved farther away from him.

  “I’ll touch you whenever I please, and you’ll thank me for preserving your reputation,” he returned.

  “I’ll thank you for taking me home.”

  “I thought you were anxious to become the Duchess of Wenford,” he said mildly, as though he hadn’t just hit and threatened her. “Unless you were lying again.” He held out the Madeira.

  Her fingers shaking a little, she accepted the glass and stopped herself from throwing the contents into his face. “I was not lying,” she lied.

  He actually laughed. “I know you, Lilith,” he said. “I know how important it is that you make a match according to your father’s wishes.” His smile broadened. “You have the look of a duchess, and I can’t wait to get between your legs and teach you about being a woman. So behave yourself, and we’ll both have what we want.”

  A few weeks ago Lilith would have been shocked and embarrassed at his words. As it was, what he’d said only made her more angry. He was right about her—or at least, he had been right, before she had met Jack.

  Dolph was ignoring her, calmly eating his luncheon and humming a waltz. She glanced sideways at him. He had actually dared to strike her. As far as the rest of the ton was concerned, the new Duke of Wenford was the epitome of propriety and grace. This was the Dolph Remdale the rest of the peerage had never seen. This was the Dolph Remdale who had killed his uncle to keep from losing the inheritance. And this was the Dolph Remdale she had to stop before he was able to get Jack Faraday and herself killed. Or worse.

  She jumped whenever he moved, but the duke seemed satisfied that she had been sufficiently intimidated. His mood became increasingly lighter, and Lilith began to wonder whether he was truly a monster, or whether he was as mad as his uncle had been. Neither supposition was reassuring.

  Unable to choke down more than a few mouthfuls, she was relieved when Dolph motioned for his driver to bring up the barouche. The man silently gathered the remains of their lunch together, his avoidance of her gaze the only sign that he might have witnessed his employer’s misbehavior.

  Lilith was silent on the ride back to London, and thankfully, Dolph seemed content to sit back and watch her. The morning had not gone remotely as she’d hoped in all of her stupid self-confidence. She wanted to see Jack with a wild yearning so intense it was almost frightening. She’d never thought to have the opportunity to fall in love and had resigned herself to a friendship with the husband her father chose for her. Now she was beginning to think that living without the Marquis of Dansbury would be worse than death.

  As they entered Mayfair, Wenford sat up straighter. “Join me, my dear.” He smiled and gestured at the seat beside him.

  “And if I don’t?”

  He glanced down at his pocket watch. “Then I will become angry.”

  While little shivers of dread and hatred went down her spine, Lilith gingerly stood and turned around to sit beside him. She shifted as close to the corner of the carriage as she could, putting as much distance as possible between herself and Dolph. As they turned into the Benton House drive, her father emerged f
rom the entryway and came down the steps to greet them. Lilith wanted to jump from the carriage and flee into the house, but she forced herself to remain seated while Dolph stepped down to greet her father. After a moment he turned with a smile to offer her his hand. With an angry, frustrated sigh, she allowed him to help her to the ground.

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” she said, unable to summon a smile in response to his bright one. She knew the game he was playing, but doubted her father would care. If he ever heard what had happened, it was more likely he would blame her for behaving improperly.

  “A delight, Miss Benton. Or should I say, Lilith?”

  “Of course, Your Grace.”

  “Wonderful.” Lord Hamble beamed, taking her hand and patting it between his own. “Wonderful.”

  “Excuse me.” Lilith freed her fingers and backed toward the door.

  “I’ll see you soon, Lilith,” Dolph called after her.

  She escaped into the house, where Bevins took her shawl. “Is William about?” she asked, beginning to shake.

  “I believe he is in the stables, my lady.”

  “Thank you.”

  Fighting the sudden urge to cry, Lilith hurried out to the stables. William stood watching as Milgrew groomed Thor, and Lilith stopped at her brother’s elbow. “William?”

  “Lil,” he said, turning and granting her a grin. “How was your picnic? His new Grace didn’t bore you into slumber, I hope.”

  She shook her head tightly, glancing at Milgrew. The groom met her gaze, then cleared his throat and went back to brushing the big stallion.

  “William, I need you to do something for me.”

  “I’m meeting Ernest Landon for billiards at Boodles,” he said, motioning Milgrew to continue when the groom paused again.

  “I need to see Jack,” she blurted abruptly, flushing.