by Owner
She felt him ponder her words and flinched, when finally he spoke again.
“You need despise me no longer. You can focus your hatred on some other
fool. Tonight is the last time I shall ask you for your . . . assistance. That
should please you . . . should it not?”
Her heart ceased to beat. Her lungs ceased to pump air. Her mind ceased all
thought processes. A cold chill caressed her, and she shivered slightly. Was
this how it felt to die? Every bodily functioning coming to a halt, freezing as
life poured out of it?
“The last time?” she asked, her voice a whisper. Why was she not content,
ridiculously, marvelously happy to be free from this man's poisonous
presence?
“Indeed. You are to never speak with him again, do you understand?”
“N-Never speak with him again? You cannot mean it? We are in the same
circle! It is impossible to think that we will never be able to communicate.
There would be talk!”
“There can be talk- so long as it is not between the Earl and yourself . . .
And do not think to argue!”
She ignored that. “But it's not possible! Be reasonable! Please, sir!” she
cried.
“Oh, it is indeed very possible and quite reasonable. At least, I believe it to
be, especially in the circumstances . . . . Do you wish your mother's life to
be cut short, all because you wanted a cozy chitchat with your lover? I am
quite capable of it, you know . . . murder, that is,” he added conversationally
and waited for that to penetrate her numbed senses. “Indeed, we all share
the same circle. I shall be able to monitor you and your interactions with the
Earl in the future.”
“I-I . . . .” For a moment, she was speechless. “You can't do this,” she
whispered.
“I think you will find that I can.”
“But I love him. I love him,” she murmured hoarsely.
“I do not care, my lady. You can love him all you want, but there is to be no
further contact between the two of you. As capable as I am of murder, I am
equally capable of running to the Earl and explaining why you decided to set
your cap at him. I'm sure he'll be perturbed enough to listen and believe.
After all, why should a beauty such as yourself even be interested in a
moping, whining bastard such as he? He will easily believe me.”
“You can't do that. You can't!”
“Again, my lady, I can. I fear that you are not listening so I shall plainly
state: you are to never meet or speak with the Earl again or I shall tell him
the truth. If you love him . . . ,” he added mockingly, “then you do not wish
to cause him further pain!”
“He would suffer either way. He loves me. I know he does!” she protested,
her voice breaking.
“Even better,” he said, issuing a nasty laugh. “I can only thank you for
sharing that pertinent fact, for it means that I was correct to think so low of
the Earl's standards. It seems he falls in love as easily as a puppy seeks its
mother's teat. Would you care to know a secret, Lady Lily?”
Lily frowned in the darkness. A secret? Was this some kind of joke? If it was,
then she wasn't sure she could stand it. She had never before realized how
difficult it was to breathe. How hard it was to suck in air and then blow out.
Shaking her head, she opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted.
“Well?” he barked. “Do you?”
“I-I, yes. I suppose.”
“Your mother was never in any danger.”
“No! You said . . . you said . . . ,” Lily cried, sucking in a breath in dismay.
“I know what I said.”
She could plainly hear his enjoyment and hated him all the more for taking
such pleasure in her sorrow and pain. “But . . . but . . . .”
“My intention was for that weakling to fall in love with you, and he did. In
fact, my plan worked perfectly, and I suppose I have you to thank for
Dorian's destruction.”
There was a silence, a short pause, and she knew, just knew, that he was
grinning. Hatred roared through her. “Destruction? Why?” she gasped, her
anger leaving her breathless.
“He has something that belongs to me.”
“What? Dear God! What could he possess to make you want to destroy
him?”
“Now that is another secret and one that I'm not willing to share at this
moment.”
“You bastard. You absolute bastard! Leave him alone, you hear! Leave him
be. Has he not suffered enough?”
“Now, now, Lady Lily, such language does not become you, and, in answer
to your question, no, not nearly enough.”
“Many things don't become me and what you have put me through . . . is so
unbelievably evil, I cannot quite comprehend it. Nothing, nothing Dorian
might have done would make me believe he deserved to be hurt in such a
manner! It wouldn't surprise me if you were in cahoots with the devil
himself, for he could not be more evil were he to even try!”
There was a faint snigger. “Do cease your babbling, Lady Lily. I, for one, do
not possess adequate time for such useless lectures. I am only pleased that
in your innocence you thought me so perfectly evil that I would be foolish
enough to kill a dowager Marchioness of the British Isles! How does it feel to
be the fool, to be the pawn?”
“I hate you.”
“You may hate me all you wish. It does not change what has already been
written in the stars.”
“You've always intended to tell him, haven't you?” she whispered, lifting a
hand to cover her trembling mouth as the realization came to her. Dorian
was vulnerable, she knew that. Were this bastard to speak of things, make
Dorian believe that she . . . well, it would break his heart. She knew it.
When he eventually replied to her stuttered question, it was cruelly
delivered. She did not require the affirmative laugh to know that she had
forever lost Dorian, not if this man had anything to do with it!
“Indeed. Another Camille to break his heart, only this time, what with the
delightful secretiveness . . . he will be even more hurt. Especially as
everything you offered him was freely given. That does not occur often in
this society. I can only thank you, Lady Lily, for making it so much easier for
me to break him. And I take it you do know who Camille is? I assume he
bored you to tears with their story?”
“Why? Why are you doing this?” she gasped, having no choice but to ignore
his questions as pain rushed through her chest and cramped her stomach.
She knew that were the ride to not come to a halt and soon, she would
vomit. Nausea plagued her and on its heels came sorrow and pain even
more powerful than the physical ailment.
“I have already told you that I do not wish you to know, Lady Lily. Please,
listen to me while I am speaking, for I do not enjoy repeating myself.”
“How could you do this to me? How could you force me into this situation
and let me love him? There has to be a reason! There has to be something
you can tell me!” she cried and leaned forward to clutch at him. Her hand
caught on his knee and she managed to catch his hand. She tugged
it
fiercely, her distress giving her strength, and he was jolted forwards into the
slight glimmer of moonlight that entered the carriage through the window.
For a second, perhaps even shorter than that, she saw the man who was
destroying everything she had ever dreamed of. Recognition did not follow,
but her eyes imprinted that almost-handsome visage on to her retina and
she knew that were she to see him again, she would instantly know him. The
bastard.
He swore under his breath and pulled away from her. “You will regret that
foolish act!” he threatened.
“No more than I regret anything else,” she spat and felt the carriage begin
to slow. Before he could grab her or hurt her, she managed to open the door
and jumped out as the wheels came to a slow halt.
Fleeing, she heard the door swing and bang against the vehicle, caught the
sounds of him cursing and swearing at her, but Lily ignored him and simply
continued to run. Run until she was on the grounds of her uncle's property
and she could once more enter through her usual entry point.
She did not have time to allow her emotions to overtake her, for were she to
allow them to overcome her, she would simply curl into a ball and die! Lily
knew that release would come only when she had traveled through the
house, from the servants' area to her rooms. Only then, in the privacy of her
quarters, would she even be able to think of expressing her heartbreak.
With her back to the door, a low keening cry escaped her throat so deep that
her belly ached from the piercing sound. She crumpled soon after, her body
slumping against the wooden surface and slowly tumbling downwards so
that she lay in a broken heap on the floor.
Her mouth worked, processing silent sounds. Gasps fluttered the orifice as
she tried to assimilate . . . tried to comprehend . . . . But there was nothing
to comprehend. Everything she had done, it had been entirely unnecessary.
Her mother had never been in danger. It had not been of vital urgency to
seduce the Earl to keep her mama safe and sound. And as she had done just
that, and followed the blackmailer's commands, Lily now knew why this
entire charade had been pieced together . . . to destroy the man she loved.
The man she was sure loved her in return.
Their love was to be used against Dorian, to weaken and further hurt him, to
damage him and his faith in humanity, in women. After this, any faith or
trust he had would be completely annihilated.
Suddenly she knew that she had to tell him first, that she could not allow her
blackmailer to share the bare bones of what lay behind her reasons for
visiting him. That Dorian would believe the bastard, she did not doubt. Love
could only do so much. It was time that healed the wounds, and Dorian had
not experienced enough of her love to cure the wounds that Camille's
presence in his life had created. He was still raw and open to distrust, for he
did not know better. Anything, anything that could be said against her in
malice would take root. She knew it like she knew her reflection in the
looking glass.
How Lily wished that when she had had the opportunity to speak the truth,
she had taken it. When the words had hovered on her mouth, she wished
that she had spoken them and made him listen to her part and hear that she
loved him, that her feelings for him, more than anything else, counted.
But she hadn't. She'd been a coward and now found herself in this sorry
state of affairs. It seemed ridiculous to have been afraid of losing him when
now she had done just that. He was lost, forever lost to her, and there
wasn't a damn thing that could be done to change that.
Silent tears coursed over her cheeks and she rolled on to her back as she
stared upwards at the ceiling. Her room was dark but the fire had been set
and still flickered. The shadowed wainscoting seemed to absorb all of her
attention for endless moments, but, in truth, she was staring blindly and
seeking hope.
Ridiculous perhaps, for was the situation not hopeless? But it was either that
or curl into a pained and agonizing ball of distress?
The only hope that seemed in sight was to approach him herself. The
thought had her curling upwards with a pensive expression cast on her
features. Why not indeed?
The blackmailer had said that he wanted her to never see Dorian again, but
why should that matter for aught? Had he not also said that he had never
intended to hurt her mama? And what could he do to her now? The one
thing that she could possibly prevent if she was to speak to Dorian first.
Of course, there was the threat to her reputation.
But again, that did not matter a damn to her. Why should it?
She had met the love of her life, and, if he would not have her, she did not
care if her name was blackened by the ton. Neither would Devlin, who had
spent the majority of his life in the same state and sadly her mother would
not even know! If the truth were to enter society, it wouldn't matter to her.
She would gladly return home with a sullied reputation, if Dorian were to
reject her overtures!
But he couldn't. He wouldn't. She would simply have to persuade him that
her words of love were the truth. That regardless of her reason behind their
midnight meetings, she had come to love him and would love him until the
end of time. She would have to convince him that part of their rendezvous
was not a lie.
She closed her eyes and sucked in a few deep and cleansing breaths. When
she reached a level of normalcy, she forced herself on to her feet and
quickly stripped down to her chemise and hurried into bed. She had to
awaken early. She had to be awake to be able to visit Dorian first thing and
Janie, after today's illness, would not be the one to awaken her. She would
leave Lily to sleep.
Rolling on to the bed, Lily tried to dispel the memories of her conversation
with her blackmailer and also tried to forget his image . . . the presence of
both in her mind were not conducive to a good night's rest and were she to
be awake with the next four hours, she would need just that.
Before her eyes closed and she drifted off, she prayed to God that Dorian
would believe her and more importantly, forgive her.
****
William sighed as his footman closed the flapping carriage door and he
settled against the hard cushions with a grimace. It displeased him greatly
that she had seen his face. He had taken care throughout the entire
proceedings when dealing with Lily Mercer to keep his face hidden. It had
enabled him to keep an eye on her throughout all the society occasions she
had attended. Now he would have to be very cautious.
Damn it.
He tried not to recall her complete and utter lack of recognition, for it would
do his ego no good at all. But almost as though his pride took relish in it, he
knew that she had not remembered him at all. Not one ounce of recollection
had been imprinted on her features.
Had they not danced together? Had they not conversed at her come out?
It appeared that they had, but only in William's ima
gination!
A scowl lit his features and he lifted his cane and tapped it against the
carriage's ceiling. The horses were soon knocked into shape and the vehicle
took off in the same path they had only recently just traversed. Dorian's
house was the ultimate destination, and William took pleasure in the
realization that his dreams would soon find culmination.
Soon, he would be the Lord. The Earl with the gold and the titles to proceed
him, with the position in society and ability to do whatever the hell he
wanted and damn the tabbies.
In truth, he should have had all of this years before. Had that stupid whore
Camille not entirely ruined his plans, then he would be the Earl and he
wouldn't be wasting his time destroying Dorian's life, for it would already
have been destroyed and the man would be dead and buried, gone
forevermore.
He pursed his lips and lifted his arm to scrub a hand over his face. He was
tired, dead tired. And now was not the time to be feeling entirely uncertain
as to whether his plan would bear fruit. He recalled a conversation where he
had witnessed the lows to which Dorian had sunk and this plot had spread
directly from that point.
Dorian had been drunk and maudlin. William had seen how close he'd been
to the edge. He'd decided at that point, to push himself over the precipice.
While it had seemed unimaginative to use the same plot against him,
William had decided that only his cousin's stupid whore of a wife had been
the ruin of his plans, not the plot itself.
When he'd met Camille, prodded her into falling in love with him, then
tupped her and ultimately, impregnated her, he'd known that the girl had
been in the very palm of his hands, ripe for the plucking and equally as ripe
for manipulation. William had known that Dorian would find Camille's starry-
eyed beauty appealing and so had delicately told her that even though she
was carrying his babe, he couldn't marry her due to the lack of funds. He'd
then managed to persuade her to entice Dorian and a marriage between the
two of them had quickly ensued and all without much hassle. Camille had
been a foolish girl, lacking in brains and so distraught by the situation she
had found herself in, unmarried and with a babe in her belly, that she had
been relieved to have a solution.
She had believed him when he'd told her that they could be together later,
