Vexed, Lily swore a silent oath. That was the most damning reason to refuse his request to court her: She feared succumbing to Claybourne’s captivating allure. She had already proven how susceptible she was to his stunning kisses.
When she remained stubbornly mute, Fleur addressed the marquess with a regretful sigh. “I am sorry, my lord, but I fear your quest might be hopeless. Lily is completely immune to masculine charm, even yours.”
“I am not willing to give up just yet.”
“There may be a way to solve this impasse, Fleur,” Chantel said slowly. “The game.”
Fleur immediately brightened. “Do you think she would agree?”
“We could try to convince her.”
Lily’s exasperation welled up again. “Convince me of what?”
Fleur regarded her with a measuring look. “We frequently played a game with our prospective patrons, back in the day when we had numerous gentlemen vying for our favors.”
“It was great fun,” Chantel chimed in. “Our gentlemen would woo us for a specified time, usually a fortnight, while we rated their creativity and effectiveness as courtiers. Then the two winners were awarded our exclusive favors for the next quarter.”
Fleur smiled as if recalling a fond memory. “The competition not only provided us a delightful diversion from boredom, it caused the gentlemen to strive harder to win us.”
Lily felt bewildered. “Whatever does your game have to do with me?”
“It could be a solution to your present standoff,” Fleur replied. “You would play the game with Lord Claybourne. In essence, it would be a competition between the two of you.”
“But of course Lily could not take him as a lover at the end,” Chantel pointed out.
Fleur nodded. “Of course not. The stakes must be different. She must give Lord Claybourne a fortnight to court her…but in exchange for what?”
Having no desire to let their deliberations continue, Lily shook her head. “I am not about to play any kind of game with him,” she stated firmly. “The very idea is absurd.”
“I think it an intriguing idea,” Claybourne countered. “How would it work in our case?”
“Well,” Fleur answered thoughtfully, “we customarily awarded points to each competitor and tallied the score after a fortnight. We could use that same method now. For instance, my lord, you might bring Lily a gift of some kind to win points. Sonnets worked well for Chantel, since she is extremely fond of poetry.”
“Yes, sonnets were my very favorite gift,” Chantel murmured. “Even better than jewels.”
“Which is why you have little left to show for your success after so many years,” Fleur said dryly. “You never did have a head for business.”
Chantel’s rouged mouth turned down in a pout. “Alas, that is true. I was swayed more by a handsome face and a romantic address.”
“And you always had your favorites.”
“Mmmm. Lord Poole, do you remember, Fleur? Now he was a splendid courtier. He always won the most points of any of my lovers.”
“The very best,” Fleur agreed.
“So I would have to earn points to win our game?” Claybourne asked.
“Yes, exactly. You would woo Lily and be awarded for your effectiveness and creativity.” Fleur’s brow furrowed. “I suggest that to keep the play impartial, Chantel and I should set the rules and act as judges, since Lily is unlikely to consider any of your endeavors worthy of reward. As for the stakes, if you earn a certain number of points in the next fortnight-say ten-then Lily must agree to your formal courtship for a full quarter. If not, then you will end your suit forever and award her a prize of her choosing. We can begin tomorrow. Her sister Roslyn’s wedding is two weeks from then. That should be ample time to see if you truly want Lily for your bride, shouldn’t it?”
The word bride was enough to make Lily cringe. “No, absolutely not,” she objected. “I won’t participate for any length of time. I couldn’t endure his lordship’s courtship for one day, let alone a fortnight.”
“But don’t you see the advantages, darling?” Chantel said. “You can demand whatever you want from him.”
“But I don’t want anything from him!”
“Nothing at all? Just think about it for a moment. Surely there is something you desire that Lord Claybourne could provide you.”
The question suddenly made Lily pause. Was there something of value he could provide her? Not for herself, perhaps, but for her friends?
When she didn’t answer, Claybourne made a tsking sound. “I expected you to have more mettle, Miss Loring. You are afraid I will win.”
At his light taunt, Lily felt her spine stiffen. She was indeed afraid of his winning, yet her pride wouldn’t let her turn tail and run from him like a weakling again. Nor could she ignore Claybourne’s challenge, even knowing that he was trying to goad her into agreeing.
“I have plenty of mettle, my lord,” she said tersely. “I was attempting to decide what would be worth my while to have a vexing rogue breathing down my neck for so long a period.”
His smile showed in his eyes. “Name your price,” he said easily.
Now that she considered it, there was one thing she wanted from him. It would of course be impossible to ask even the supremely wealthy marquess to hand over thirty thousand pounds to pay off Fleur and Chantel’s debt. Not only would such magnanimity make Lily uncomfortably beholden to him, she doubted anything short of her pledge to wed him would induce him to part with so vast a sum. Besides, there was another favor that would benefit even more needy souls.
Yet did she dare risk letting him court her? Lily asked herself. What did she have to fear, after all? She didn’t believe his lordship’s pursuit would last for an entire fortnight. If he was like most nobleman of means, he had far too much idle time on his hands. Undoubtedly his current preoccupation with her was merely his way of relieving boredom. She was a diversion, nothing more. But perhaps he would lose interest in her if she went along with the game.
“Please, Lily, darling,” Chantel implored while she debated. “You will relieve my conscience and Fleur’s as well. We couldn’t bear to think we hurt your chances for a prosperous match simply because you are so devoted to helping us.”
Still silent, Lily caught her lower lip between her teeth as she argued with herself. There were indeed some advantages to agreeing. At least Claybourne would have to play by set rules. And she could use the opportunity to show him precisely why he didn’t want to marry her; to prove that she was much too independent for him. Most importantly, her sacrifice would be for a very good cause.
Furthermore, she seriously doubted she could be rid of him any other way.
Two weeks was not so very long, if she considered it. She would be busy with her classes for much of that time. Surely she could maintain her defenses against him for a fortnight, Lily reflected. She wouldn’t be in danger of falling in love with him in such a short period, surely…
It was imperative, however, that he not win the game, since she was unlikely to withstand his potent charm for an additional three months of a formal courtship.
“Very well,” Lily said, taking a deep breath. “I do have something I want from you, my lord. We are holding a soiree here next week so that our boarders can exhibit their hard-won skills to attract prospective new patrons. I would like you to arrange for some of your wealthy bachelor friends to attend their debut. And you must weed out unsuitable candidates beforehand-anyone who would be cruel or domineering toward our young women. We only want those who will be considerate and kind. If you can promise to bring a dozen such eligible gentlemen to the soiree, then I will agree to play your game.”
Claybourne hesitated for a moment before amusement twisted his mouth. “You drive a hard bargain, angel.”
“Then you accept my terms?”
“Yes, of course.”
She could hear Fleur’s sigh of relief, while Chantel clapped her hands.
“That is very clever, Lily,” C
hantel said with admiration. “Lord Claybourne’s support should insure our soiree’s success.”
“I sincerely hope so,” Lily murmured, placing a hand over her suddenly queasy stomach as realization sank in. She had actually agreed to let the marquess woo her. What the devil had she done?
Claybourne might have sensed her dismay, for he kept his tone mild when he spoke. “If I have only a fortnight, then I must begin at once. Are you free tomorrow morning to accompany me on a ride in the park, Miss Loring?”
Frowning, Lily pursed her lips. A ride in a public park seemed innocuous enough. And as long as she could avoid being alone with him, she should be safe. “What time? We must make it before my classes begin at nine, and I doubt you will want to rise so early.”
“Is seven o’clock convenient?”
It surprised her that he was willing to disturb his comfort in order to accommodate her schedule. “Seven o’clock will do well enough.”
Chantel let out a small moan. “I never rise before ten, but you may report back on your excursion afterward.”
Lord Claybourne nodded in agreement, then turned to Lily. “I will take my leave now. If your lovely friends”-he bowed to each of the courtesans-“are to grade my performance, then I had best think of something to impress them.”
“Oh, I’ll wager you will do quite well, my lord,” Fleur said, returning a flirtatious smile. “Indeed, I believe we should award you two points now.”
Lily’s brows drew together. “Two points? That hardly seems fair.”
“Oh, but it is fair, darling. He deserves at least one point for hunting you down here, since it shows excellent resourcefulness. And a second point for soliciting our help in persuading you to accept his courtship. That was very clever of him.”
“But then he only has to earn eight more, and I will be starting out at a disadvantage.”
“Perhaps, but he still has a long way to go. And keep in mind, he could lose points if we judge it fitting. However, by the same token, Lily, you must give him a sporting chance to score points,” Fleur warned. “You must allow him time each day to advance his suit.”
“Yet truly, Lily,” Chantel added quite seriously, “I am certain you will enjoy yourself. The mating dance is the most pleasurable game in all the world.”
Lily’s grimace clearly showed her disagreement.
“Do you want to renege already?” Claybourne asked when she hesitated, his tone provocative.
Yes, was Lily’s instinctive response. “No, I do not wish to renege,” she said aloud. But she lifted her chin as she met his amused gaze. “You should not be so confident, however, my lord. You will quickly learn you don’t want me as your wife.”
“I very much doubt that. But I won’t underestimate you again.”
Stepping toward her, he took her hand and gave her fingertips a chaste kiss. Lily drew a sharp breath at the heat that sizzled across her skin from the mere touch of his lips.
Perhaps she had made a serious mistake after all, she thought in alarm.
But the battle lines were drawn now, and she had no intention of allowing him the victory.
Chapter Five
I intend to show his lordship I am far too independent for him to want me as his bride.
– Lily to Fanny
Still piqued by her friend Basil Eddowes’s betrayal, Lily hunted him down early the next morning before his class on diction. She suspected he’d been deliberately avoiding her, since he hadn’t dined with the boarders the night before or taken tea with them afterward in the drawing room. And when Basil opened his bedchamber door at Lily’s knock, the guilty look on his face only confirmed her suspicions.
“Now don’t be angry with me, Lily,” he said, holding up his hands defensively.
“Whyever would I be angry?” she asked with false sweetness. “Merely because you have done untold damage to my life by divulging my personal secrets to a near stranger?”
Wincing, he shoved a shock of blond hair out of his eyes. Tall and lanky, wearing his usual dark frock coat and spectacles, Basil looked very much like the scholar he was, although the unruly hair that tumbled over his forehead was rather endearing and softened his lean, hungry appearance.
Basil possessed a keen mind but few social skills, and it was that lack that Lily took issue with now. “I did not think you capable of such perfidy, Basil.”
“I only hoped to do you a favor.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What favor?”
“Why, to provide you a proper alternative to the life you are leading now. I don’t want you following in Fanny’s scandalous footsteps.”
“Basil…” she said with mingled vexation and exasperation. He had never gotten over his fierce anger and disappointment at Fanny’s decision to join the flesh trade, but he should know better than to think she wanted that same life. “You know I have no intention of becoming a Cyprian.”
“But you should not be living here in a place like this, continually exposed to the seamier side of nature.”
“You choose to live here.”
“But I am a man, not a genteel young lady.”
Her frown deepened. “I thought you supported my efforts to help our boarders, Basil.”
“I do, but when Lord Claybourne said he wanted to court you, it seemed providential. The chance for you to become a marchioness is too splendid to pass up. I care what happens to you, Lily.”
Hearing the genuine concern in Basil’s voice, Lily bit back the scoffing retort she was about to make. She couldn’t hold on to her vexation, despite his unwanted interference. They had been close friends since childhood.
In character, Basil was more like her sister Roslyn, his nose usually buried in a book. But he’d been Lily’s faithful companion in sporting endeavors, climbing trees and galloping across the countryside like wild Turks and caring for the animals on the home farms of the Loring family estate. He had also been her unwilling partner in crime for many of her youthful escapades.
“I have no doubt you care for me, Basil,” she said more gently. “And you know the feeling is mutual. I just wish you had found some other way of showing your affection than to betray me to Lord Claybourne.”
“Well”-a sheepish grin wreathed Basil’s mouth-“his lordship was very persuasive.”
“I have no doubt about that either,” Lily said dryly.
“So you agreed to his courtship?”
“Under duress, yes,” she muttered. “Because he promised to aid our boarders. But I must endure him only for the next fortnight. I am to go riding with him in a few moments.”
Basil’s brown eyes surveyed her approvingly. “I am glad you at least thought to take a veil. The damage to your reputation will be unavoidable if you are discovered to be living here in a house of low repute.”
Along with her own riding habit, Lily was wearing a borrowed shako hat equipped with a veil so she could avoid advertising her identity. She didn’t want to be easily recognizable by anyone she encountered during her ride with the marquess.
“The possible benefits to our pupils,” she said, “are well worth any risk to my reputation. But Basil, in future please do not do me any more favors that involve you playing matchmaker.”
He grinned. “I promise. Enjoy your ride.”
“Oh, I will. I mean to show his lordship that I would make him an extremely unsuitable wife.”
Basil frowned as she turned away. “Lily,” he called after her, “just what devilish scheme are you planning?”
She laughed lightly as she continued down the corridor. “Nothing more mischievous than usual. I shall return in time for my class at nine.”
“You know coves like Claybourne don’t like mannish young ladies, Lily. You will put him off if you insist on outriding him and outshooting him and outthinking him.”
“That is precisely my intention!”
Ignoring Basil’s muttering, Lily made her way through the house to the front entrance. But when she stepped outside and saw Lord Claybourne w
aiting on the street for her, accompanied by a groom holding the reins of two magnificent bay horses, she came to an abrupt halt.
“Oh my heavens,” she murmured to herself. How had he known she couldn’t resist such superb horseflesh? She would be delighted to ride a spirited mount any time, but particularly now, when she’d been deprived of her favorite pastime during the entire month she’d been in London.
Stiffening her spine, Lily gathered her composure and continued down the steps. Clearly the marquess was not going to play fairly. But there was no need for panic. Indeed, she was counting on their absurd game to aid her cause, even if it meant being compelled to spend time with him. For she was convinced that if Lord Claybourne came to know her better, he would soon realize that he would not be at all happy with her as his bride.
Heath felt his loins tighten at the sight of Lily looking as fresh and lovely as the summer morning. She ignored him completely, however, and instead had eyes only for his horses.
Going directly to the smaller of the two bays, which sported a lady’s sidesaddle, she spoke softly to the mare, stroking her face and receiving an affectionate nicker in return.
When Lily finally deigned to notice him, her lively eyes held appreciation. “I must say one thing for you, Lord Claybourne. You do have excellent taste in horseflesh.”
“Is that actually a compliment, Miss Loring?” Heath responded.
“I give credit where it is due…although I’m certain you are merely trying to score points with our judges.”
“And with you as well. I thought you might have missed riding and hoped to disarm you by providing you an excellent steed.”
“Well, I admit you succeeded,” she said with rueful amusement. “I have rarely been privileged to ride such a wonderful animal.”
“You may consider the mare a gift. After all, you are here in London without a mount because of me.”
She shook her head. “I cannot accept so expensive a gift.”
“A loan, then.”
Lily gave the mare’s face another fond stroke. “Thank you, my lord. I will love riding this beauty. Shall we be on our way?”
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