by Owner
when she'd told him to be careful. To investigate who the blackmailer was
and as she had spoken, her words had been filled with such sadness, such
sorrow that they had pierced the organ that had begun to beat solely for
her.
He lifted a hand to comb through his hair and then, sat forward. A sense of
urgency rushed through him and he felt a burst of energy run alongside it. It
wasn't nervous energy, but exhilaration. He wanted to punish William,
wanted to do so, so badly that it was a force to be reckoned with.
Dorian jumped upwards and stalked over to his desk once again. He fiddled
with the papers that lay atop the surface and smiled to himself as he did. As
he stared down at the letters, his head shot up as the door opened.
“Cuz,” he declared warmly.
“Dorian,” William replied with a startled smile. “One of my staff said that you
wished to speak with me?”
“Indeed.” He paused. “You were quite right by the way.”
“I was? About what, Dorian?”
“Lily Mercer. Her funds have dried up. She came to me with a very tall tale.
As I said, you were right.”
“I'm glad I warned you,” William replied. He walked over to the drinks table
and poured himself a brandy.
As he did so, Dorian watched him carefully. As William took a large sip of the
liqueur, he perched himself on the edge of his desk and continued to watch
him. “Like you warned me about Camille?” he asked quietly.
“Yes. And I was correct then, wasn't I? She didn't have enough fire for you,
Dorian. Don't get me wrong, I'm sorry that she died and that your babe also
perished, but . . . .” William tilted his head to the side as though considering
his words. “At least the child wasn't a boy. The waste would have been much
worse.”
If William hadn't deserved every ounce of what was coming to him that very
night, then those words would have sealed his fate. “Was she easy to
manipulate?” Dorian asked quietly.
“Who?” his cousin asked around a sip of brandy.
“Camille, of course.” He smiled. “Didn't you know that I knew, William?”
“Knew what?”
“That she was fucking you.”
William stilled. “Are we discussing the same Camille?”
“Indeed we are. I've no doubt that you have long thought me a fool, William,
but was it not a tad crass to use the same technique with Lily?” he asked
coldly and cocked a brow at William's convincing look of dismay.
“I don't know what you're talking about, Dorian. Speak sense, man!”
“Oh I am, for the first time in a long while. I'm quite certain that you believe
you've managed to manipulate the situation to your own end, but this time,
my dear cuz, you are quite wrong.”
“I am, am I?” he asked with a querying look.
At that moment, William so obviously understood where he was leading this
particular conversation that Dorian had to withhold a laugh.
“Yes, indeed.”
“I don't know about that, Dorian. After all, this is the second woman you
love whom I've taken from you. She won't have you now that you've
branded her a whore. And, just think, perhaps she is carrying your child and
you'll never see it, never be able to hold it . . . . I'm sure that that will cause
you a great deal of pain,” he commented with relish. “Not that she was
supposed to come to you, the little witch. I strictly forbade her. But then,
when do women listen? Camille was just as bad.
“I must admit, it was rather a disappointment to walk through the door
tonight and see you were still living. I'd quite hoped you had sliced your
wrists in an attempt to end it all. I was quite certain that a second betrayal
would finish you off. Che sarà sarà,” he quoted wryly.
“Yes, indeed, and, unfortunately for you, I believed her. So I shall be rearing
my child and I shall be seeing her . . . quite shortly . . . . After I've dealt
with this nasty business, that is,” he commented with a smile.
“Ah, so she hooked you, did she? Foolish man.”
“Perhaps, perhaps. Although, I would call you the fool, William.”
“You would?”
“Yes. Greed was always and will always be your downfall . . . as it is now.”
“What do you mean?” For the first time, William looked confused.
“Rather foolish, wasn't it to use your inheritance from my death as security
for loans?”
“How do you know about that?” William asked furiously.
“I hired someone who explained every little detail of the trouble you're in.
Indeed, this someone has explained how I can get you sent to the Fleet.”
William blanched. “You'd send your only living relative to a debtor's prison?”
“Why, naturally. You'd prod your only living relative into committing suicide.
Why should I not repay that kind gift?”
“You can't do that, Dorian.”
“I can and have. The gaolers are due any moment. You see, I've bought
every single one of your debts and am demanding payment right this second
. . . . As I know the only money you have to your name is directly on your
person, I know quite certainly that you can't afford to pay me and, so, the
Fleet it shall be.”
“You can't do this to me, Dorian,” William pleaded.
While Camille had betrayed him, he could easily see that William was the
one who should be cast with the blame. Camille had been weak and
biddable. A strong man such as William would have easily had her cowed,
and, no doubt, he'd forced her into obeisance.
Just as he had Lily.
But no more women would suffer for William Wright's greed.
“I can and have, cousin.”
“But you can't! You owe me!” William shouted.
“I owe you?” Dorian retorted sardonically. “I'm sure I owe you for the misery
you've longed to see me drown in . . . . In fact, I'm quite sure that I don't
owe you a damned thing.”
William licked his lips. “But? Do I hear a but there?”
Dorian shrugged. “Perhaps. It depends if you're willing to pay.”
“Anything but gaol, Dorian. I shall pay any price.”
“Fine. The gaolers are indeed on their way but so is a press gang. You can
choose your fate.”
His cousin blanched. “Press gang?”
Dorian smiled. “Yes. You can fight for King and country or you can . . . spend
your life in a rotten gaol. And I can assure you, your life will be quite short.
You know how debtor's prisons are . . . one has to pay for everything. From
food to water . . . and I shall provide you with no allowance.” Dorian shook
his head. “Not one penny shall go your way. But if you choose to fight for
King and country, then I shall provide you with ten pounds a month.”
“Ten!” William scoffed.
“You don't have a choice in the matter, and, compared to a sailor's wage, it's
quite a luxury. Indeed, perhaps I should cut it down to . . . .”
“No! No!”
It was then that Dorian knew he had William, and, at that moment, he
prayed to God that Lily would indeed forgive him and accept him back.
Of one thing he was quite certain, she would appreciate his choice of
pun
ishment for the bastard who had blackmailed her into seduction.
He loved her and she loved him. He would grovel until his knees bled so long
as she accepted his forgiveness, agreed to marry him, and believed him
when he told her that he loved her.
There was no other alternative for him. Without Lily the life ahead of him
would be miserable. The child she might be carrying was important, but no
more than the woman who would be its mother.
It had taken her disappearance to make him realize that without her life was
not the joy it should have been.
Epilogue
It seemed so bizarre, Lily thought with a faint smile. Here she was, at their
Berkshire estate, selecting the furnishings for the new nursery and yet,
everywhere was silent.
Indeed, it was more than silent. It was quite eerie. Of course, it was early
morning and even London would be slowing down at this time of the night,
but still, only the sound of an owl hooting could be heard and it sent shivers
down her spine.
She spun around and grimaced as her back twinged. After four pregnancies,
this one being her fifth, one would have thought that she would have grown
accustomed to actually being in the family way, but she wasn't. It was her
own fault that she seemed to perpetually be pregnant. Of that she was quite
aware.
But was it her fault that she enjoyed her husband's attentions?
In truth, it was his fault! For being so attentive!
Any woman would find herself in a similar position, were their husband to
lavish them with love from dusk to dawn!
She was weak willed, after all, at least where Dorian was concerned. She
couldn't be with the children so much, for they would run her ragged if they
could but naturally, she possessed soft spots for each of her four boys.
It was with great difficulty that she cloaked those spots, although at times,
she failed horrendously. Lily sighed. What was she trying to hide? At times?
Always! She was a good mama, but she was useless at the structure, at the
discipline. She simply wanted her children to be happy, to be content.
And that they were, but she and Dorian also knew that it was imperative
they learned respect and to understand and abide by the rules.
And so, that was how her mama had come to live with them. Indeed, it was
her mama, who was the main taskmistress. Julia, who imposed the rules and
enforced them, for Lily and Dorian were quite useless at it. They would have
to learn eventually, otherwise they would have four demons for sons, but
they had greatly enjoyed sharing their children's freedom and propensity for
mischief.
It was almost shameful to admit it, but then, such was life. One had to take
the bitter with the sweet and oh, how much sweet she had in her life.
Lily smiled at the thought and danced a little. The skirts of her night rail
swished about and the sound echoed in the small room.
She was quite certain this child was a girl and that was why she was
redecorating the suite.
No little girl of hers would have a blue nursery! No, indeed! She looked at
the decisions she'd already made, chartreuse-embroidered peach curtains
with matching bed linens, multicolored murals on the north and south walls,
with the east and west painted a warm honey color, a large cherry-red
carpet that would invite a child to snuggle as she crawled about the floor and
learned to move and walk.
Lily smiled at the prospect and patted her belly. While she and Dorian were
useless at the taskmaster part of being a parent, they were both relying on
the little beauty inside her belly to take care of that. After all, her mama
couldn't be expected to continue on in the same vein, not with Devlin about
to produce an heir of his own! Julia would have to split her time between the
two estates and so, the babe would do the rest.
A little girl for four naughty little men to protect, to care for and love . . .
indeed, a happy quintet, Lily thought with a grin.
Abandoning the fabric samples that her housekeeper had procured for her,
she walked out of the nursery and into her bedchamber. It was late, but the
child had been restless and had prodded her mama into wakefulness.
Rubbing her back as she moved with one hand and holding the candle with
the other, she entered the room and walked over to the bed. So large was
the space that the single candle she held only illuminated her path. Not the
sitting area in which they always relaxed an hour before they moved to bed
nor the dressing table which Janie used to ready her for meals, or the large
painting of the family she and Dorian had created.
Four mischievous boys crawling over two happy parents.
Lucas, the eldest whose talents lay in mathematics as did his father.
Johnathan, the second child with eyes as green as her own.
Matthew, their third son with hair as auburn as his mama's.
And last but by no means least, their youngest boy, Marcus. Marcus who
was the spitting image of his father.
Even Dorian, who rarely noticed anything of that nature, had remarked upon
their likeness and he had also said that he hoped the girl-child that currently
dozed in her belly would be the mirror image of her.
Lily could well understand that wish.
It was strange to see her husband in Marcus' young features, but she
couldn't help but feel pride for having created such a handsome little man.
That was how Dorian would feel, were their little girl to look exactly like Lily,
she knew.
She smiled as she settled the candle on the bedside table. Using the small
stool that was tucked just under the bed's rim, she climbed up on to the
large mattress and sighed. Then wriggled and then curled on to her side as
she sought comfort.
The bed was so large that all four of the boys could have joined them quite
comfortably and yet Dorian always seemed to be on her side of the bed. Not
that she complained, it was always just a tad awkward when she was at this
stage of her pregnancy. She tended to fidget and disliked the idea of waking
her husband.
Well . . . sometimes she disliked it.
Grinning at the thought, her smile slowly disappeared. He needed his rest
tonight. This morning, his cousin William had turned up at the estate and
demanded an interview with Dorian. At this very moment, William was
sleeping in the guest quarters at the other end of the building . . . far away
from the boys' bedrooms.
While she had to admit the change in him was quite impressive, it would
never be enough to trust her sons with him. At first, she had been quite
furious at the thought of William even remaining to break his fast! And then,
she had spotted the insignia of a captain of His Majesty's Navy and had done
an about-take.
Apparently, the King deemed William trustworthy . . . . Perhaps, regardless
of their past, she should do the same.
Lily was not quite certain, but she was fair and even though the bastard had
terrorized her life for a short while, he had been the means through which
she had found her soul mate.
There had to be some forgivenes
s in her soul for that.
Blowing out a breath, she cursed as it accidentally extinguished the candle
and jumped, startled, at the faint laugh that sounded ominously loud in the
silent room.
“You do that almost every night, you know, sweeting?”
She smiled. “You shouldn't be watching. You're supposed to be asleep!”
“When you leave the bed I awaken,” he commented. “I have no need of a
warming pan with you between the sheets,” he teased and laughed as she
struck his thigh with a open palm.
“Is it my fault that I start to boil when I'm with child?” she asked, her lips
formed in a pout.
“No, indeed it is not, my love. Do you hear me complaining?” At her chortle,
he sighed and tucked her closer against him. “Have you finally selected the
furnishings for the nursery?”
“Indeed, I have. Peach and cream and a mural. Although, the latter's
subject, I have yet to decide. I think I shall ask mama for something
suitably Roman. I'd love a bluestocking for a daughter, a much more
suitable alternative with all the rake-hells in London.”
Dorian laughed heartily. “Rakes can be reformed, you know. Was her father
not one himself?”
“Indeed, they can. But still, would you like to place your daughter's heart
into a wretch's hands?” She smiled at his faint stiffening. Oh, he was such a
marvelous father, she thought on a sigh. “You see . . . ,” she remarked
triumphantly, “you would hate it as much as I. We should encourage her as
swiftly as possible to enjoy books and literature.”
“We cannot wrap her in cotton wool, darling.”
“No, I suppose not,” Lily conceded with a sigh. "Not even a tiny layer?” she
asked with a wry grin.
“We shall see. If she is as independent as the boys, then she shall be her
own savior.”
“True.”
“This should be our last babe, you know, darling . . . ,” he whispered softly.
“I refuse to lose you."
“You won't lose me,” she chided.
“Pregnancy has never sat well with you, my love. Don't lie, for I know it to
be so. I can still remember that day when I came to Grantlake for the first
time and saw you that morning . . . . I'd never seen you look so ill. At first, I
thought there was something seriously wrong! I was quite relieved to hear
