Kleypas, Lisa - Then Came You.html

by Then Came You (lit)

  “So do I.” Alex lifted the glass to his lips and took a sloshing swallow. He studied his companion with a calculating stare. They were contemporaries, Alex thought, and yet Zachary hardly looked older than his brother Henry. The telling daylight illuminated Zachary’s boyish face—the clear skin and the brown eyes filled with youthful dreams and idealism. He was so damned suitable for Penelope. Anyone with a modicum of intelligence could see it.

  Alex scowled. Caroline was gone. If the fates wouldn’t allow him to have the woman he loved, he’d be damned if he’d let

  Zachary have Penelope. Alex’s alcohol-soaked brain acknowledged that his attitude was selfish, cruel, pointlessly vengeful …

  but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything.

  Except maybe one thing. One little thing that had been bothering him for some reason. “Who was Miss Lawson engaged to?”

  he demanded gruffly.

  Zachary appeared to be confused by his abruptness. “You’re referring to the … er, episode ten years ago? When Lily was engaged to Lord Hindon?”

  “Lord Hindon who? Thomas Hindon’s son Harry?”

  “Yes, Harry.”

  “That cocky little dandy who stares into every looking glass he passes by?” Alex gave a scornful laugh. “That was her great

  love? I should have guessed she’d pick someone with more vanity than intelligence. And he was a friend of yours?”

  “At the time, yes,” Zachary admitted. “Harry had a certain charm—”

  “What did she do to make him jilt her?”

  Zachary lifted his shoulders in a defensive shrug. “It wasn’t anything in particular.”

  “Oh, come,” Alex sneered. “She must have deceived him in some way, or publicly humiliated him, or—”

  “Actually, she did deceive him. Though it wasn’t intentional. Lily was quite young back then, very eager and trusting. And naive. She fell in love with Harry for his handsomeness, without realizing that he was a man of exceedingly shallow character. In order to attract Harry, Lily concealed her intelligence and her strong will, charming him by acting like a featherbrain. I don’t believe it was a conscious plan to deceive him. She just naturally adopted the qualities that she sensed he would admire.”

  “But eventually Hindon discovered what she was really like.”

  “Yes, he began to realize it in the months after he had proposed to her. Harry behaved with utter dishonor. He jilted her not long before the wedding. Lily was devastated. I offered for her instead, but she refused me. She said she was destined never to

  marry. Her aunt took her abroad for a number of years. They lived in Italy for a time.”

  Alex concentrated on his cigar, his golden lashes lowered, concealing his thoughts. When he spoke, his voice was quieter than before. “She must have cut quite a swath across the continent.”

  “No, she disappeared, actually. Years passed, and no one heard from her. Something happened to her in Italy, but she’s never

  told a soul about it. All I’m certain of is that Lily came to some sort of grief there. When she reappeared in England two years

  ago, I could see how she had changed.” Zachary frowned thoughtfully. “There’s a sadness in her eyes that never leaves. She’s

  a worldly, unique woman, with courage that few men could match.”

  Zachary said something else, but Alex didn’t hear. He stared at the wholesome young man sitting across from him and remembered the sight of Lily kissing Zachary in the library. A blatant attempt to convince him they were lovers. Instead, the

  scene had demonstrated beyond a doubt that they shared nothing more than platonic friendship. While Lily had cuddled on Zachary’s lap and kissed him, he had sat there passively, his arms held stiffly at his sides. Hardly the behavior of a man

  embracing the woman he loved. If he had been in Zachary’s place …

  Alex dismissed the forbidden thought and pinned Zachary with a brooding stare. “Lily’s a cunning little actress. But not good enough.”

  “I say, you’re quite off the mark! Lily is genuine in everything she says and does. It’s clear you have no understanding of her.”

  “No, it’s clear you don’t. And you’re similarly mistaken about me, Stamford, if you think I’ve been fooled by the infantile

  charade you and Miss Lawson have been putting on for my benefit.”

  “What? I don’t understand—”

  “You’re not in love with Lily,” Alex said sardonically. “How could you be? Oh, I’ll grant you have some sort of liking for her.

  But you’re also afraid of her.”

  “Afraid?” Zachary turned purple. “Of a woman not half my size?”

  “Let’s be frank, Stamford. You’re a gentleman of the first water. You’re incapable of hurting anyone, save to defend your principles. Lily, on the other hand, would do anything to get what she wants. Anything. She doesn’t have principles, and

  doesn’t respect them in others. You’d be a fool not to fear her. You’re her friend one moment, her pawn the next. Don’t

  think I intend any insult to you. I feel a certain sympathy for you.”

  “Damn y-your sympathy!” Zachary spluttered.

  “Penelope, on the other hand, is what every man dreams of. A girl with an appearance and bearing that are nothing short of angelic. You freely admit you were once in love with her …”

  “Once, but no longer!”

  “You don’t lie well. Stamford.” Alex crushed out his cigar and smiled cruelly. “Forget Penelope. Nothing is going to stop this marriage. I advise you to attend the first few balls of the season—there you can choose from dozens of girls just like her.

  Pretty, innocent girls, all eager to learn of the world and its temptations. For what you want, any one of them will suffice.”

  Zachary shot up from his chair. He looked as if he were torn between pleading with Alex or calling him out. “Lily once said

  much the same thing to me. Apparently neither of you are able to see what I do in Penelope. It’s true she doesn’t have much courage, but she is hardly some empty-headed doll! You’re a selfish blackguard, Raiford! For what you’ve just said, I should—”

  “Zachary,” Lily’s voice interrupted. She was standing in the doorway, looking calm and determined. Her face was drawn, her

  eyes just as weary and smudged as Alex’s. “No more,” she said to Zachary with a faint smile. “It’s time for you to leave. I’ll

  take care of this.”

  “I’ll fight my own battles—”

  “Not this one, my dear.” Lily indicated the door with a jerk of her head. “Listen to me, Zach. You must leave. Now.”

  Zachary strode to her and grasped her hands, turning his back on Alex. He looked down at her small face. “The plan has

  failed,” he muttered. “I have to face him, Lily. I must finish this.”

  “No.” She stood on her toes to put her arms around his shoulders. One dainty hand came to rest on the back of his neck.

  “Trust me,” she whispered into his ear. “I swear on my life you’ll have Penelope. But you must do as I say, darling. Go home.

  I’ll take care of everything.”

  “How can you say that?” he whispered back in amazement. “How can you pretend such confidence? We’ve lost, Lily, we’ve utterly—”

  “Trust me,” she repeated, and stepped back from him.

  Zachary turned to look at Alex, who was sprawled in the library chair like a debauched king on a throne. “How can you stand yourself?” he burst out. “Doesn’t it matter to you that the woman you’re about to marry is in love with someone else?”

  Alex smiled mockingly. “You talk as if I held a gun to her head. Penelope accepted my suit of her own free will.”

  “There was nothing free about it! She had no choice in this marriage. It was all arranged without her—”

  “Zachary,” Lily interrupted.

  With a mumbled curse, Zachary looked from her to Alex. Turning
on his booted heel, he strode from the room. Soon afterward there was the sound of his horse’s hooves as he rode along the graveled drive. They were left alone. Alex’s gaze flickered over Lily. With grim satisfaction he observed that she looked as exhausted as he

  did. The soft lavender gown with its frilly lace collar seemed to emphasize the pallor of her skin and the shadows under her

  eyes. Her lips were red and swollen, a testament to his roughness the night before.

  “You look like hell,” he commented rudely, fumbling to light another cigar.

  “No worse than you. A man in his cups is always so disgusting.” Lily wandered to the velvet-festooned window and opened it, letting some fresh air into the stale room. She frowned as she saw the cigar burns on the leather-lined table, an exquisite piece

  that was used to display rare folio books. Ruined. She turned and discovered that Alex was staring at her, his cold eyes daring

  her to rebuke him. “What caused this?” she asked.

  He showed her a used cigar butt.

  She smiled sourly. “Actually, I was asking what caused you to swill your liquor like a pig at the trough. Pining after long-lost

  Saint Caroline? Or is it that you’re jealous because Zachary’s a better man than you’ll ever be? Or could it be—”

  “It’s you,” Alex snarled, tossing the brandy bottle aside, not seeming to notice the resulting shatter. “It’s because I want you

  out of my home, out of my life, away from me. You’re leaving within the hour. Go back to London. Go anywhere.”

  Lily threw him a disdainful glance. “I suppose you want me to throw myself at your feet and beg—‘Oh please, my lord, allow

  me to stay’— well, you won’t have your way, Raiford! I’m not begging, and I’m not leaving. Perhaps when you’re sober we

  can discuss whatever it is that has set off this tantrum, but until then—”

  “I’m fortified with a bottle of brandy, and I can barely tolerate you, Miss Lawson. Believe me, you don’t want me sober.”

  “You pompous ass!” she exploded. “I suppose you’ve decided I’m the cause of all your problems, when the trouble is all in

  your stupid, thick, muddled-up head—”

  “Start packing. Or I’ll do it for you.”

  “Is this because of last night? Because of one meaningless kiss? Let me assure you, it held less significance for me than—”

  “I told you to leave,” he said with deadly calm. “I want every trace of you out of here, including your cards, your midnight

  rambles, your little schemes, and your big brown eyes. Now.”

  “I’ll see you in hell first!” Lily faced him, ready to stand her ground. She watched in bemusement as he left the library. “Where

  are you going? What are you …” Following him, she saw him at the foot of the grand staircase. He was heading to her bedchamber with ground-covering strides. “Don’t you dare!” she screeched, and scampered after him. “You inhospitable

  swine, you conceited, arrogant monster …”

  Flying up the stairs, Lily reached the bedroom at the same time Alex did. A startled housemaid was engaged in changing the linens. After one glance at the pair, she fled as if retreating before an invading army. Alex flung open the armoire and began

  to stuff articles of clothing into the first available valise.

  “Take your paws off my things!” Outraged, Lily grabbed a delicate china figurine from the bedside table and hurled it at him.

  Alex ducked quickly. The figure shattered against the wall behind him.

  “That belonged to my mother,” he growled, his gray eyes filled with an unholy light.

  “And what do you think your mother would say if she saw you now, a violent brute with a dried-up heart rattling in his chest, caring about nothing except his own selfish needs … ah!” Lily cried out in fury as Alex opened the window and tossed her

  valise outside. Gloves, stockings, and feminine articles fell from the half-open valise and scattered on the drive outside.

  Whirling around, Lily searched for something else to throw. She happened to catch sight of her sister standing in the doorway.

  Penelope was staring at them in horror. “You’ve both gone mad,” she gasped.

  Soft as her voice was, it caught Alex’s attention. He paused in the act of cramming a dress into a hatbox and glared at Penelope. With his contorted face and his drunken, disheveled blondness, he hardly looked like himself.

  “Take a close look, Penny!” Lily said. “This is the man you’ve agreed to marry. A fine sight, isn’t he? You can always tell a

  man’s true character when he’s pickled. Look at him, oozing meanness from every pore!”

  Penelope’s eyes widened. Before she could form a reply, Alex spoke to her harshly. “Your erstwhile lover won’t be coming

  back here, Penelope. If you want him, leave here with your sister.”

  “She most certainly will,” Lily snapped. “Pack your things, Penny, and we’ll go to the Stamford estate.”

  “But I couldn’t … Mama and Papa wouldn’t approve,” Penelope said in a faltering whisper.

  “No, they wouldn’t,” Lily agreed. “Is that as important to you as Zachary’s love?”

  Alex directed a chilling stare at Penelope. “Well? What will it be?”

  Looking from Lily’s defiant face to Alex’s ominous one, Penelope turned as white as chalk. Giving a terrified cry, she darted

  away and headed for the retreat of her own room.

  “You bully!” Lily exclaimed. “Dog in the manger! You know very well you can intimidate the poor child into doing whatever

  you want!”

  “She made her choice.” Alex tossed the hatbox to the floor and gestured to it. “Now, should I finish your packing, or will you

  do it?”

  There was a long moment of silence.

  “All right,” Lily said contemptuously. “Get out. Leave me in peace. I’ll be gone within the hour.”

  “Sooner if you can manage.”

  “Why don’t you explain the situation to my parents?” Lily invited with a sneer. “I’m sure they’ll agree with everything you say.”

  “Not another word to Penelope,” Alex warned, and strode from the room.

  As soon as she was certain he was out of earshot, Lily took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. She shook her head, laughing quietly to herself. “Arrogant ass,” she murmured. “Do you really think I’d be defeated so easily?”

  Chapter 6

  A parade of cowed-looking servants carried Lily’s valises and portmanteaux out to the chaise. The closed carriage was

  adorned with shining lacquer and the Raiford armorial bearings. Alex had given the driver explicit instructions to deliver Lily

  to her terrace in London and return without delay.

  Lily’s allotted hour was nearly over. Mindful of the passing minutes, she wandered through the mansion in search of her father.

  He was in one of the small upstairs parlors, seated at a desk burdened with stacks of books.

  “Papa,” Lily said tonelessly.

  George Lawson acknowledged his daughter with a glance over his shoulder. He straightened his spectacles. “Lord Raiford informed me that you are leaving.”

  “I’m being forced to leave.”

  “I expected that,” he replied ruefully.

  “Did you say anything in my defense, Papa?” Lily’s forehead creased. “Did you tell him I should be allowed to stay? Or are

  you happy I’ll be gone? Do you have a preference one way or the other?”

  “I have reading to do,” George said in a befuddled way, indicating his books.

  “Yes, of course,” Lily murmured. “I’m sorry.”

  He turned in his chair to face her, his expression perturbed. “There is no need to apologize, daughter. I am no longer surprised

  by anything you do or any commotion you cause. I ceased to be surprised a long time ag
o. You never disappoint me because

  I never expect anything of you.”

  Lily wasn’t certain why she had come to find him—for what little he expected of her, she expected even less of him. As a child, she had bothered and provoked him relentlessly—sneaking into his office, pestering him with questions, accidently spilling ink all over his desk while trying to write with his pen. It had taken years for her to accept the crushing fact that he wasn’t interested in her, not her thoughts or questions, her good behavior or even her bad behavior. She had always tried to find a reason for his indifference. For a long time she had felt it was some terrible fault in herself that caused him not to care. Before leaving home

  for good, she had confided her guilt to Totty, who had managed to assuage it somewhat.

  “No, dear, he’s always been that way,” Totty had said placidly. “Your father has a quiet and withdrawn nature. But he’s not a

  cruel man, Lily—why, there are some men who beat their children for disobeying them! You’ve been fortunate to have a father

  of such gentle disposition.”

  Privately Lily had considered his indifference almost as much a cruelty as beating would have been. Now she was no longer resentful, or puzzled by his lack of caring, but resigned and rather sad. She tried to find words to tell him how she felt.

  “I’m sorry for being such a scapegrace,” Lily said. “Perhaps if I’d been a son, we might have found some way to get along together. Instead I’ve been rebellious and foolish, and I’ve made such mistakes … oh, if you only knew, you’d be even more ashamed of me than you already are. But you should be sorry, too, Papa. You’ve been little more than a stranger to me. Since I was a child I’ve had to forge my own way. You were never there. You never punished or scolded me, or did anything to show

  you were aware of my existence. At least Mother bothered to cry.” She raked her hands through her hair and sighed. “All the times I needed someone to turn to … I should have been able to rely on you. But you kept to your books and your philosophical treatises. Such a fine, scholarly mind you have, Papa.”

  George glanced at her then, his eyes filled with protest and rebuke. Lily smiled sadly. “I just wanted to tell you that in spite of everything … I still care about you. I wish … I wish you could say you felt the same.”