Hint of Desire (The Desire Series)

by Lavinia Kent

  She heard a muffled curse of pain as the figure backed towards the window. Another section of the curtain swept down, and the man stepped back. Lily forced herself to her feet. Her eyes never left the sheen of steel. She placed herself between it and the cradle, prepared to risk all to save her son. She stood alone, her mind empty of all but a mother’s fury.

  The figure stepped forward, and with a further curse turned, and slipped out the window.

  Simon.

  She had to protect Simon.

  She crouched, and pressing her full weight against the cradle, she shoved, once, twice. The cradle moved, sliding fast against the polished wood boards, before halting with a jerk as it reached the edge of the plush wool carpet.

  Hearing a crack above, she threw her body again over the cradle, as the heavy curtain rod came crashing down in a shower of sparks. Terror gripped her.

  She grabbed the comforter off the bed and beat at the embers, barely aware of the cutting burn or the smoke that stung her eyes as she battled against the spread of fire.

  Even as she beat out one flame, another sprang to life in its place. By this time the curtains over the other window had begun to glow and she couldn’t even comprehend the light and heat pouring from the high canopy over the bed.

  She pushed hard against the cradle again as a further shower of sparks descended.

  She would just grab Simon and get out. She couldn’t stop this, couldn’t help it.

  An instant later, a swirl of bodies, the flap of blankets and the sputter of water hitting flames filled up the room.

  Thank God, she was no longer alone.

  Then she found herself caught against a hard, velvet-covered chest, her legs lifted from the floor.

  “Simon.” Her voice sounded broken and scorched by the foul smoke.

  “Get the baby.” Arthur’s voice of calm authority barked at the nearest man.

  A moment of silence overpowered the noise and bustle as Lily waited.

  “He’s not here,” the panic-filled cry came back.

  “He has to be.” For the first time Lily heard that firm voice shake.

  “The cradle’s empty.”

  “Check the floor. Everybody cease moving.” The command rang loud over the tumult.

  Lily’s mind stopped working right after the word “empty” registered. She lay in Arthur’s arms, cradled gently against his robe, and froze like an animal caught in the hunter's sights.

  “Not here.”

  “Here either.”

  “Get a stick and feel through the remains of the curtain. We have to be sure. We have to find him.”

  “There was a man,” Lily croaked, “just like in the stables.”

  Still in shock and denial, Lily watched as the footmen continued to beat at the flames and boys continued to arrive with buckets of water. She saw somebody take a stick and gingerly poke at the fallen curtains, still smoldering slightly. But none of it mattered.

  Her son was gone.

  The intruder had taken him.

  The pain became so great she could no longer distinguish any sensation.

  Then, from the doorway, came a sound that started the world turning again – the small cough and sputter of an increasingly unhappy baby.

  She turned in Arthur’s arms, almost clawing at him in an effort to see.

  Nanny stood in the doorway, a look of amazement and bewilderment of her face. Supported against her shoulder lay Simon, his small body starting to twist and tremble as he burrowed against her.

  “Oh heavens!” The exclamation left Nanny’s lips. “What’s happened? Did the candle fall? But there wasn’t a candle. I took it with me when I got the baby. He was starting to fuss and I didn’t want to wake you, my lady, so I just took him up to the nursery. I hope I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Lily couldn’t even talk. She mouthed Simon’s name inaudibly, her throat knotted with emotion. Simon was safe – Simon was safe. Her mind sang the words like a hymn.

  Arthur spoke, taking charge. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. In fact you may have done something very right. Now bring the baby along and let’s get these two settled again.”

  Arthur crushed Lily against his chest as he turned and preceded Nanny down the hall. The faint smell of tobacco tickled her nose as she let her cheek rest against the plush crimson of his robe. Her chest relaxed and her lungs expanded fully for the first time since the flames had awakened her.

  Within moments Arthur propped her in the largest bed she had ever seen, surrounded by a richness of embroidery, lace and silks that left her mind reeling. She’d been dropped into some dragon’s treasure-filled lair.

  Nanny placed Simon in her arms again, and she lost track of all else as she let her fingers trail over him, unwrapping each limb to assure herself that he was unhurt. He put up with her fussing for a moment before turning towards her chest with hungry lips. She settled him with a soft sigh of contentment before turning her gaze up to Arthur’s startled eyes.

  His vivid blue stare was fixed on her pale skin and the rosy baby lips that purred with satisfaction. Lily felt a slow flush rise as Arthur’s gaze remained unwavering. She had forgotten his presence for a moment, and surely, letting a man see her nursing her babe defied convention. And yet, the flush that coursed up her cheeks had nothing to do with embarrassment, and everything to do with his steady gaze. When at last he raised his eyes to meet hers, the breath caught in her throat and she fell into those clear azure depths.

  “Does it hurt when he suckles?” Arthur’s voice sounded husky, and Lily couldn't decide whether it was from passion or smoke.

  “What?” Seeing that his eyes had lowered again, Lily fidgeted with uncertainty. “Oh, no. It felt a little strange at first, but now it is comforting and relieving. I can almost feel the tension ease from my body when he nurses.”

  “Oh.”

  For a moment Arthur seemed at a loss for words. One of his hands reached out, the long fingers extended to stroke her flesh just above Simon’s greedy mouth.

  “Ahem.” The soft sound from the depths of the room reminded them of Nanny’s presence. Arthur’s arm dropped to his side.

  “What happened?” His fingers caressed the pillow.

  Lily chewed on her lower lip. She could still feel the heat of his gaze as it moved over her.

  “I don’t know. I know I’ve said that before, but I am really not sure. But, there was a man. I only saw a silhouette, just like in the stables. Then, he went out the window. I thought he’d taken Simon.” Her voice faded at the horror of the thought. She leaned back further into the pillows, inhaling the familiar masculine scent of brandy and sandalwood that surrounded her, before continuing.

  “When I awoke I thought it was dawn, with the light coming from the window. Then I saw the flames. Someone stood over the cradle. Perhaps he hesitated. I knew he was after my baby. Who would try to take my son?”

  “A man? Are you sure? You never mentioned a man in the stables.”

  “I was afraid I had imagined it, but this time I know what I saw.”

  “You didn’t scream or call for help.”

  “I didn’t?”

  “No. Were it not for the hallboy who noticed the light coming from the room and went to investigate, I cannot imagine what might have become of you. You didn’t call out at all.” Arthur’s voice held steady, but his fingers drummed a steady pattern on the quilt.

  Lily considered before answering. “I don’t think I realized anybody would help.” She let her fingers stroke the soft fuzz on Simon’s head. “I’ve had to depend on myself for a very long time. There hasn’t been anybody I could call.”

  Arthur’s features darkened. She could not read the emotion behind his steadfast mask. It hurt to look at him when he appeared so hard.

  “I am sorry. I know that’s changed now. You’ve done nothing but help me.”

  The bed shifted as he settled beside her. He reached out and took one of her hands. She focused on the long calloused fingers that
rubbed warmth into her own.

  “You don’t need to worry any more. I take care of what is mine. Anytime you need help I will come.”

  Lily tried to let his words soak in and bring her comfort, but deep in her heart she knew she could never claim succor. She had murdered Geoffrey. Arthur would not be so generous with his care if he knew the truth.

  She clasped her fingers around his, before tilting her face up to him. “I do know. I can see all around me the signs that you take your responsibilities seriously.” She tightened her other arm around Simon. Now, more than ever, she must protect him. Her course was set. “It’s just taking me some time to adjust to this.”

  “As long as you do adjust.” Arthur raised his hand up to stroke her cheek. His eyes burrowed deep into hers again before dropping to her lips, only inches away from his own.

  She swayed forward, inexplicably drawn towards his warmth. She parted her lips. He paused just a breath away and stared down at her, as if seeking permission.

  Drawn forward by desires she didn’t understand, she pressed her lips against his. The soft warmth of his mouth lured her deeper and she moved her tongue over his lips, tasting the sweet smoky scent of his cheroot. She could feel fires beginning to burn deep in her belly, sending shivers through her body. His fingers slid through her hair, drawing her closer.

  A soft cluck of disapproval sounded from the corner of the room, but by then Lily didn’t care. All that mattered were the warm lips moving over her own, providing a fulfillment she had never known.

  A loud masculine cough sounded. “Forgive me, your grace, but the doctor’s here again, and there’s something you should see outside.”

  With obvious reluctance, Arthur slowly untwined his fingers from Lily’s hair and placed one unbearably sweet kiss on the tip of her nose. Then he rose and followed the footman out.

  “Well, I never,” Nanny spluttered. “He is quite a man, though.” She clucked to herself. “They are getting married. And I can see some things won’t be too difficult for them.”

  Lily could tell that no reply was expected. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the peace of the massive room settle about her, the early sound of bustle replaced now by the deep tranquility that had settled over the house. She listened as a light boot tread moved towards the room.

  Lily opened her eyes when she heard Dr. Smithson’s voice addressing her. “I should have known it would be you again.” He sounded more amused than irritated.

  “I do seem to be seeing a lot of you,” she allowed.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Well, I suppose. My eyes hurt and I think I may have burned my hand. Otherwise, I am better than I deserve.”

  The doctor took Lily’s hand as Nanny gently lifted Simon from her arms. He proceeded with a slow, careful examination. She had escaped relatively unscathed, other than the burn on one hand and some abrasions on her feet, probably caused by broken window glass.

  “I’ll prepare an ointment for the burn, and you’ll need to be careful of your feet, but you’re actually in better condition than I’ve observed heretofore. If your eyes give you trouble for more than a day, have his grace send word and I’ll examine them further. Otherwise, I must say, you’re looking rather well. I’ll be back in a few days to examine you again. I am sure his grace will see that you are well cared for.”

  Lily smiled at the doctor’s last comment. “Yes, he does see to it that my son and I are well tended.”

  The doctor turned serious again. “You are right. He is a good man. I’ve never seen him turn away from something that needed doing. I don’t know your whole story, but I can guess. I’ve been caring for the sick and injured for a long time and you were not the first I’ve seen with the sort of bruising I observed.”

  Lily turned away at his words. She didn’t want to think about that. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Aye, and yet, if you’ll forgive me, my lady, I think you may. I’m sure you’re not prepared to discuss it, nor can I ask it of you, but when you find yourself able, I think you will find his grace an understanding confidant. He’s never been a man of violence, and I believe he’ll . . . appreciate . . . what happened. I understand you’re going to be wed. Don’t you think he should know the truth first?”

  The truth. The phrase sent chills down Lily’s spine. The doctor did not know her truth, though he might have guessed at the fact of it. No, she didn’t think she should tell Arthur the truth. No matter how much she longed to trust him, she could not risk Simon’s future. Only when they were married, when he claimed Simon as his own, would she dare even think of revealing the reality of her recent past.

  “I’ve already said I don’t know what you mean.” But Lily couldn’t meet his eyes.

  Dr. Smithson didn’t answer, but Lily could see his feet shift back and forth uneasily.

  “You don’t need to talk to me, but do know that I am at your service if you should change your mind. Meanwhile, I think you need to think about talking to his grace. In my experience, keeping something like this a secret only lets it build.”

  Lily was spared from having to answer when Arthur strode into the room, fully dressed now in boots and breeches. He turned to the doctor.

  “I need to speak with you.”

  They turned and left the room.

  Lily lay in the great bed alone. The room that had seemed so lavish and magical before now seemed only vast and empty. The horror of the night remained present to her and she desperately sought distraction. She glanced around the chamber as she apprehended tokens of its heavily masculine flavor. A set of simple gold-backed brushes lay on the dresser. The heavy clean lines of the highly polished wood gleamed with care. A faint scent of sandalwood wafted through the air, and she knew where she must be.

  Arthur’s chamber.

  It bespoke ducal wealth and elegance, while maintaining a simplicity worlds removed from the curlicued chambers she’d spied in her childhood. The room conveyed strength and power, just like its master.

  She settled more easily into the pillows, imagining the man's arms around her, just as his bed and belongings now embraced her, succored her, convinced her that safety might be found. She allowed herself to grow calmer and closed her eyes, drifting . . .

  She couldn’t have closed her eyes for more than a moment when Arthur returned, followed by the more solemn doctor.

  Arthur walked over to the bed and took her hand between his larger ones. He stared down at her, his lean lips drawn tight, and strain showing in the slight wrinkling around his eyes and the stiff formality of his tone.

  “I’ve sent a rider to the Bishop requesting a special license. We will be married tomorrow, or the next day at the latest.”

  Arthur could not miss the shock that discomposed Lily’s features. Her eyes, which had been large and hooded with slumber, suddenly opened wide. Her sleep-softened body jumped to readiness. Her slow, easy breathing grew rapid, and he could catch each inhalation as the soft lace of her gown rose and fell over her breasts. Arthur let his gaze linger on the invitingly shadowed valley for a moment before returning his gaze to her face.

  “Tomorrow?” she finally croaked.

  “Yes.”

  She paused, shaking her head as if trying to clear her thoughts.

  “Why? We can’t.”

  “Because it’s prudent, and we can. I will do what I must. I will become your husband without delay. Is that a difficulty for you?”

  Her emotions played on her face. At one moment she seemed ready to question him further, at another to argue, but finally, a slow, uneasy acceptance seemed to win hold. She bowed her head and shook it slightly.

  “No, if that is your will, then, of course, I am agreeable.”

  It seemed almost as if she simply had collapsed under the weight of his will.

  “I’ll see you in the morning, then. One of the maids will take care of your dress. Is there anything else you will require?” Arthur knew he sounded abrupt, but his thoughts sped a
head to the coming day.

  “No. Am I supposed to sleep here?” she whispered, in a barely audible voice.

  Arthur emitted a deep sigh of consideration, knowing full well that further sleep would elude him this night. Yet Lily looked appropriate in his bed, her hair spread across the crisp linen of the pillows. He nodded.

  From the moment the footman had pointed out the heavy boot prints below her window and the remains of the broken bottle of spirits tangled with the singed remains of the curtain, his choices had become limited. Add that to her story of a man in the stables – he had wondered how she could have been so foolish as to open the stallion’s stall – and somebody wanted Lily and her son out of the way, and Arthur could not protect them fully until he claimed them as his own.

  He needed to start searching for the person or persons who had tried to kill Lily and her son and discover why. Was this latest attack related to Worthington's untimely demise? What part, if any, had St. Aubin played? He was the obvious suspect – who else would benefit from Simon’s death? No, Arthur would not sleep again that night. And he would not rest easy until he could ensure Lily's absolute safety.

  Chapter Eleven

  The wedding morning arrived too soon. Even accounting for the day it took to fetch the license from the bishop, Lily was not prepared. She’d been hustled and bustled for the last two days and had not allowed herself to consider what was to come.

  Now, as she stood in the vestibule of the village church, time slowed. Lily had too much time for thought. She told herself she had no choice, but the thought of another loveless marriage gave wide berth to a rising panic. Maybe if she’d had a few more weeks to involve herself in the preparations, this unreasoning fear would not have seized her. But now she trembled to think of placing herself and her son in another man’s power. She knew she had to remember Simon’s safety. And to remember that this “other man” was Arthur, who might not always remain the prince of her dreams, but surely would never hurt her.