Kleypas, Lisa - Then Came You.html

by Then Came You (lit)

  “Oh, don’t be dramatic. It was only a little tap on the head.” Contritely Lily smoothed his golden hair. “I did hate the idea of

  hurting you. I couldn’t think of any other way to stop you, though. You’re an impossibly obstinate man.”

  Alex scowled as he stripped off his shirt, revealing his broad, muscled chest. “You could have thought of a less painful way to keep me away from Raiford Park that night.”

  “I could have seduced you, I suppose.” A smile lingered at the corners of her mouth. “But at the time the idea didn’t hold much appeal.”

  Alex regarded her with a speculative gaze as he removed the rest of his clothes. “I still haven’t paid you in kind for that night,”

  he commented. There was a gleam in his eyes that she didn’t trust.

  “Paid me in kind?” she repeated. Modestly she slipped out of her chemise and sought to climb beneath the sheet. “You mean

  you’d like to knock me on the head with a bottle?”

  “Not precisely.”

  He joined her on the bed and pushed her to the pillows with playful roughness, taking care not to hurt her. Lily laughed and struggled, while he used his strength to hold her down and steal swift kisses from her. She enjoyed the mock wrestling match,

  until suddenly she felt her arm being stretched and neatly secured to the bedpost with one of her stockings. A startled laugh burst from her. “Alex …” Before she could gather her wits, he fastened her other arm in the same manner. Abruptly her laughter died away, and she tugged at her wrists in astonishment. “What are you doing?” she asked rapidly. “Stop this. Untie me, right away—”

  “Not yet.” He levered himself over her, gazing down at her.

  An erotic, fearful thrill shot through her. “Alex, no.”

  “I won’t hurt you,” he said, a faint smile touching his lips. “Close your eyes.”

  She hesitated, staring into his hard golden face, the sensual promise in his eyes. His powerful body was poised just over hers,

  while his fingertips rested lightly on the thrashing pulse in her throat. Slowly her lashes fell, and she surrendered with a moan.

  His hands and mouth began to move over her, eliciting a burning pleasure that she was helpless to return. He tormented her with gentle caresses until she was rigid beneath him, waiting blindly for the torture to end. She lifted herself to him as he joined their bodies in a slow, splendid thrust. The weight and force of him drove deep within her, while his mouth brushed over hers with sweetly flirting kisses. Trembling, she drew tightly around him, using her legs and body to hold him to her. Abruptly the diffuse sensations converged in a burst of rapture and white heat. She jerked against him with a low cry and fell back gasping

  as he took his own pleasure inside her.

  In the slow, surging aftermath, she fought to catch her breath. Alex loosened the bonds at her wrists. Blushing fiercely, she

  slid her arms around his neck. “Why did you do that?”

  His hands moved slowly over her body. “I thought,” he replied softly, “you’d like to know how it feels.”

  Vaguely she recalled having once said the same thing to him, and she choked on a mortified groan. “Alex, I-I don’t want

  to play games with you anymore.”

  She felt his lips press into the warm space between her neck and jaw. “What do you want?” he asked huskily.

  Lily grasped his head in her small hands. “I want to be your wife,” she whispered, and urged his mouth back to hers.

  *

  As the days passed, Lily found herself craving her husband’s touch, his smiles, his nearness. She had feared that life with

  him might be confining and dull. Instead it held an excitement she had never known. Alex challenged and bewildered her,

  making it impossible to know what to expect from him. Sometimes he treated her with the same brisk, masculine manner he accorded his friends while drinking and arguing politics over several hands of cards. He showed no hesitancy about taking

  her riding or shooting with him, and he even brought her to a boxing match, laughing as she alternated between cringing at the violent action in the ring and leaping up to cheer her favorite. Alex took pride in her intelligence, making no effort to hide his surprise at her skill in managing her household accounts. She told him dryly that her uncertain income over the past two years

  had made her expert at scrimping and economizing.

  It was pleasant to have him praise her accomplishments, and she was gratified by his respect for her opinions. She even enjoyed the way he provoked her at times, spurring her into unladylike behavior and then mocking her for it. But there were other times when he disconcerted her by treating her like a rare, easily bruised flower. Some evenings when she was in the bath, he would wash her hair and dry her with soft towels as if she were a child, and rub perfumed oil over her body until her skin glowed.

  Lily had never been so thoroughly indulged and spoiled in her life. After years of fending for herself, it was a constant surprise

  to have someone take her side in all things. She had only to wish aloud for something and it was hers, whether it was more

  horses in the stable, tickets for the theatre, or just the comfort of being held by him. When she had nightmares, he awakened

  her with kisses and soothed her back to sleep in his arms.

  When she sought to please him in bed, he was lovingly patient as he guided her in erotic lessons that aroused and fulfilled them both. His lovemaking was infinitely varied, ranging from savage plundering to gentle seduction that took hours to unfold. Whatever his mood, she was always left completely satisfied. Day by day he was stripping away her defenses, leaving her

  soft, open, and frighteningly vulnerable. Yet she was happier than she had ever thought she could be.

  Alex could change from arrogance to gentleness in the blink of an eye, luring her to confide private things she had never

  thought anyone would want to know about her. He saw through her with terrifying clarity, understanding the shyness beneath

  her facade. Countless times she was tempted to tell him about Nicole, but she held back in fear. The time with him was

  becoming too precious. She couldn’t lose him yet.

  She waited in vain for word from Giuseppe, warning Burton privately to bring her any messages from him. Although she had considered the idea of rehiring the Leary officer, Mr. Knox, to look for Nicole, she was afraid he might inadvertently jeopardize her chances of regaining her daughter. All she could do was wait. Sometimes the strain caused her to lash out irritably at those around her, even at Alex. On one occasion he responded with a sharpness that nearly moved her to tears, and they had a bitter argument. She was hardly able to meet his eyes the next morning, embarrassed by her outburst. She was also afraid that he

  would demand an explanation for her unreasonable behavior. Instead Alex behaved as if nothing had happened, his manner

  gentle and warm. Lily realized that he made allowances for her that he would make for no one else. He was the kind of

  husband she had never imagined existed—generous, quick to forgive, concerned more for her needs than his own.

  But as she discovered, Alex did have his faults. He was overprotective and jealous, scowling at any man he perceived to be staring at his wife too closely or taking her hand too long. It amused Lily, his attitude that every man in London must be lusting after her. He took special pains to warn her away from his own cousin, Roscoe Lyon, who made charmingly outrageous

  overtures to her every time they met. At a magnificent ball they attended, Ross made her laugh by seizing her hand and

  bestowing a multitude of kisses on the back, as if he were a starving fox in the company of a delectable hen. “Lady Raiford,”

  he sighed eloquently, “your beauty is so luminous that we have no need of moonlight. It fairly humbles me.”

  “I’ll humble you,” Alex interrupted grimly, retrieving his wife’s hand in short
order.

  Ross encompassed Lily with a beguiling smile. “He doesn’t trust me.”

  “Neither do I,” she murmured.

  He affected a wounded look. “All I wish for is a waltz with you, madam,” he protested, and added with a seductive grin,

  “I’ve never danced with an angel before.”

  “She’s promised this one to me,” Alex said darkly, and began to pull his wife away.

  “What of the next?” Ross called after them.

  Alex answered over his shoulder. “She’s promised all of them to me.”

  Laughing, Lily tried to warn him as he led her toward the waltzing couples. “Alex, there’s something I should tell you. Mother always tried to teach me to glide gracefully, but it was no use. She said my style of dancing is comparable to the romping of

  an unbroken horse.”

  “It can’t be that bad.”

  “I promise you, it can!”

  Alex thought she was jesting, but to his amusement he discovered that it was true. It took all of his skill to restrain his athletic wife’s vigor upon the dance floor, not to mention several firm maneuvers to keep her from trying to lead. “Follow me,” he said, slowing his pace and guiding her through the steps.

  Despite the strong guidance of his hand, Lily kept moving in the wrong direction. “This might be easier if you just followed me,” she suggested impishly.

  He bent his head and whispered in her ear, telling her to think of the last time they made love. The unorthodox advice caused

  her to giggle, but as she stared into his eyes and concentrated on being together with him, it was suddenly easy to allow him

  full control of their movements. She relaxed enough to allow something approaching a glide. “Why, we’re very good at this!”

  she exclaimed. Grinning at her expression of pleased surprise, Alex claimed her for several more waltzes, causing more than

  a few raised eyebrows.

  It was unfashionable for a husband to dote openly on his wife, but Alex didn’t seem to care. Lily was amused by the sophisticated society women who mocked enviously behind their fans at the close attention Alex paid to her. Their own husbands spoke indifferently to them, if at all, and spent every night in their mistresses’ beds. To Lily’s surprise, even Penelope remarked on

  Alex’s possessiveness, declaring that Zachary never sought out her company the way Alex did with Lily.

  “What do you talk with him about all the time?” Penelope asked curiously during the intermission of the most recent play at

  Drury Lane. “What do you say that interests him so?” The two sisters stood together in a corner of the domed foyer on the

  first floor, fanning themselves. Before Lily could answer, they were joined by Lady Elizabeth Burghley and Mrs. Gwyneth Dawson, both of them respectable young matrons Lily had begun friendships with. Lily especially liked Elizabeth, who had

  a lively sense of humor.

  “I must hear the answer to this,” Elizabeth declared with a laugh. “All of us have been wondering how to keep our husbands planted firmly by our sides as Lily does. What do you say that he finds so enthralling, dear?”

  Lily shrugged, glancing at Alex. He was standing with a group of men across the room, all of them involved in idle conversation. As if he felt her gaze, he glanced back at her and smiled slightly. She turned her attention back to the women. “We talk about everything,” she said with a grin. “Billiards, beeswax, and Bentham. I never hesitate to give him my opinion, even when he

  doesn’t like it.”

  “But we shouldn’t talk to men about politicians such as Mr. Bentham,” Gwyneth said, puzzled. “That’s what they have their

  friends for.”

  “It seems I’ve made yet another faux pas,” Lily said with a laugh, pretending to cross the subject off an invisible list. “No

  more improper discussions of politicians.”

  “Lily, don’t change a thing,” Elizabeth hastened to tell her, her eyes twinkling. “It’s clear Lord Raiford likes things just as they

  are. Perhaps I should ask my husband his opinions of beeswax and Mr. Bentham!”

  Smiling, Lily let her gaze wander over the crowd in the foyer once more. She was startled by a glimpse of inky black hair,

  a flash of familiar features. A shudder of uneasiness went through her. Blinking hard, she searched again for the vision, but

  it was gone. She felt a soft hand on her arm.

  “Lily?” Penelope questioned. “Is something wrong?”

  Chapter 12

  Lily continued to stare absently at the crowd. Recovering herself, she pasted a smile on her face and shook her head. It

  couldn’t have been Giuseppe. Over the course of the past years he had become too seedy to mingle in a gathering such as this. Aristocratic bloodlines or not, he wouldn’t be allowed to associate with the guests in here, only with the lower classes outside.

  “No, Penny, it’s nothing. I thought I saw a familiar face.”

  She managed to dispel the dark feeling enough to enjoy the rest of the performance, but she was definitely relieved when it

  was over. Reading the expression on her face, Alex refused several invitations to gather with friends after the play, and he

  took Lily back to Swans’ Court.

  Lily stared hard at Burton as he welcomed them inside and took Alex’s gloves and hat. It was the same look she gave him whenever she asked if a particular message had arrived for her that day. In response to her silent question, Burton shook his

  head slightly. The negative motion sent her heart plummeting. She didn’t know how much more she could take, how many

  more silent nights of waiting for news of her daughter.

  Although Lily made an effort to chat lightly about the play, Alex sensed her bleak mood. She asked for brandy, but he told the maid to bring up a glass of hot milk instead. Lily frowned at him but didn’t argue. After downing the milk, she undressed and climbed into bed, nestling in Alex’s arms. He kissed her, and she pressed against him willingly, but for the first time she couldn’t respond when he made love to her. Gently he asked what was wrong, but she shook her head. “I’m tired,” she whispered apologetically. “Please just hold me.” Alex relented with a sigh, and she rested her head on his shoulder, desperately willing

  sleep to come.

  The image of her daughter floated around her, dancing before her in darkness and mist. Lily cried out her name and reached for her, but she was always a few steps away, just out of her grasp. Eerie laughter echoed around her, and she recoiled from an evil, mocking whisper. “You’ll never have her … never … never …”

  “Nicole,” she called out in despair. She ran faster, her arms outstretched, she stumbled and fought against vines that crept

  around her legs, pulling her down, keeping her from moving. Sobbing with anger, she screamed out for her daughter, and

  then she heard a child’s frightened wail.

  “Mama …”

  “Lily.” A calm, quiet voice cut through the mist and darkness. She swayed dizzily, flailing with her arms. Suddenly Alex was

  there, holding her steady. She relaxed and leaned against him, breathing unevenly. It had been a nightmare. Pressing her ear against his solid chest, she listened to the strong beat of his heart. As she blinked and wakened fully, she realized they weren’t

  in bed. They were standing by the wrought-iron balustrade at the top of a long flight of stairs. She exclaimed softly, her brow furrowing. She had been sleepwalking again.

  Alex tilted her head back with his hand. His face was remote, his voice almost detached. “I woke up and you weren’t there,”

  he said flatly. “I found you at the top of the stairs. You almost fell. What were you dreaming about?”

  It wasn’t fair of him, asking questions when he knew she was disoriented. Lily tried to dispel the grogginess that still clung

  to her. “I was trying to reach something.”

&nbs
p; “What?”

  “I don’t know,” she said unhappily.

  “I can’t help you if you won’t trust me.” he said with quiet intensity. “I can’t protect you from shadows, or keep you safe

  from dreams.”

  “I’ve told you everything … I … I don’t know.”

  There was a long silence. “Have I ever mentioned,” he said coldly, “how much I hate being lied to?”

  She averted her gaze, looking at the carpet, the wall, the door, anywhere but his face. “I’m sorry.” She wanted him to hold

  and cuddle her as he always did after her bad dreams. She wanted him to make love to her, so that for a little while she

  could forget everything but the powerful warmth of him inside her. “Alex, take me back to bed.”

  With impersonal gentleness, he eased her away and turned her in the direction of the bedroom. “Go on. I’m going to stay

  up for a while.”

  She was surprised by his refusal. “And do what?” she asked in a small voice.

  “Read. Drink. I don’t know yet.” He went downstairs without looking back at her.

  Lily wandered to the bedroom and crawled beneath the rumpled covers, feeling guilty and annoyed and worried. She buried

  her head in a pillow, making a new discovery about herself. “You may hate being lied to, my lord,” she muttered, “but not half

  as much as I hate going to bed alone!”

  *

  The slight chill between them persisted the next day. Lily took her morning ride in Hyde Park without him, accompanied by a groom. Later she busied herself with correspondence, a chore she detested. There were piles of calling cards, announcing at-home times at which she would be welcome to call, and lightly penciled requests for when she planned to receive visitors. There was a stack of invitations to balls, dinners, and musical evenings. They had been asked to join the Clevelands in

  Shropshire for autumn grouse shooting, to stay at the Pakingtons’ shooting lodge on the moors, and to visit friends in Bath.

  Lily was at a loss to know how to respond to the requests. How could she accept invitations for a future she wouldn’t be

  part of? It was tempting to let herself pretend she would always be with Alex, but glumly she reminded herself that it would