Jordan Summers - Gothic Passions (Ellora's Cave).htm

by Gothic Passions (Ellora's Cave) (lit)

  “You’re hurting me,” Lily cried out, the sound strained, pain-filled.

  He released her and walked to the fireplace. Wood crackled and spit as the flames enveloped the logs. The library glowed with warmth, the smell of pine wafted in the air. Lily paced to the center of the room, worrying her hands. Her father peered into the blaze, his stare distant as if remembering a far away dream. He rested one arm on the mantle while the other reached for his glass of brandy. He took a heavy swallow, his lips thinning as the heat from the liquid burned its way down his throat. Suddenly as if remembering her presence he spoke, his blue eyes so much like her own, pinning her in place.

  “I shall not be defied on this, daughter. You will not ruin my plans. It’s bad enough you showed yourself to be of easy virtue, by dancing with him more than twice, then allowing him to escort you to my side.” There was a subtle menace in his tone, but something more flicked in his gaze… worry. If it were the latter, she was sure it wasn’t for her.

  “Father, rest assured, I have no designs of aligning myself with a rake of the first order.” Not with Lord Martins or with Richard, did she?

  No, no absolutely not. If her mother’s circumstances had taught her one thing, it was that men like Richard could never be trusted with your heart. But given her father’s present state, he didn’t need to know Richard had temporarily addled her brain, making her forget her vow.

  She didn’t even fully understand why it had occurred. Only that she couldn’t let it happen again. Lily didn’t need to think about Richard’s mahogany hair, or his pale skin, or the way his lips felt when they touched hers. And it was absolutely imperative she forget his strong hands and how he was able to guide her effortlessly over the dance floor, as if they were one.

  Lily released an exaggerated breath. “No one’s going to think I’m a lady-bird just because I allowed a rake to escort me from the dance floor.”

  “We’ll soon see. You know how merciless the dowagers and haughty matrons can be.” Archibald took another drink of brandy. “It took me several minutes to assure Lord Martins that his place in your favor was secure. I went so far as to tell him you were with fever tonight. Perhaps that would work with the ton also… “

  “You did what?” Lily gasped in surprise. She clenched her fists in an attempt to ease her trembling. Anger heated her insides to a slow boil.

  “Silence! I’m doing this for your own good.”

  Her own good… humph. Why would her father go to so much trouble with Martins? Surely he didn’t seriously expect her to align herself with such a man. His standing in the ton was tenuous at best. She’d respect her father’s wishes for now, until she had time to speak with her Aunt Margaret, Duchess of Dreyer. She’d be able to talk some sense into her father.

  There was no reason to continue this conversation, what he said was law. She wasn’t about to admit that she had felt feverish in Lord Lyon’s presence, but she doubted very much it had anything to do with an ailment. Her heart sank a little to her knees. Inwardly she chastised herself for being foolish. It was just a kiss…

  “If you wish for me not to allow his suit, then it is done.” Lily inclined her head. “May I retire now?”

  “Of course, run along.” He waved her away with the hand gripping the drink, amber liquid sloshed onto the thick navy carpet. “I’ll be going out as soon as the hackney arrives.”

  “Tonight, Father?”

  “Don’t question me, gel,” he grumbled and his eyes narrowed as if trying to focus.

  Lily walked forward feeling as if her steps led her to the executioner, instead of her father. She kissed him on the cheek, then left him to his thoughts. The further down the hall she treaded the more disappointed she felt. Agitated by her own behavior she strode as ladylike as her mood would allow, straight to her room.

  There was no reason to be upset. It wasn’t as if Lord Lyon had made a formal request for her hand. He did parade you possessively in front of the ton.

  He’d only suggested if there were a scandal he’d do the right thing. Hardly terms for considering giving someone your heart. Even if he had pressed suit Lily would have to deny him on principle. She would not be saddled to a rake like her mother had been, left alone for nights on end while he was out gallivanting about the ton, warming the beds of other women.

  Rumors of Richard’s prowess tumbled in her mind. Lily’s body heated as she recalled his wicked exploits. She’d overheard a matron whispering to one of the dowagers about how Richard’s cock had nearly split her asunder because of its astounding size. With that thought, heat filled her stomach and lower still, to her feminine juncture.

  She frowned at her own response. Surely the woman had been exaggerating. Lily waved her hand, dismissing the whole thing as nonsense. In the end it did not matter, for she and Richard were over before they’d actually begun.

  Lord Lyon had made his intentions clear to everyone at the ball, and ton-nish people rarely forgot such overt acts. Indeed, they seemed to notice every detail of every indiscretion quite vividly, much to Lily’s chagrin. Well she’d have to make it clear to the grand dames that Richard’s intentions were not her own. It was the only manner left for her to save face.

  She’d go along with her father’s idea of her being feverish that evening, therefore not in her right mind. It chafed Lily to no end to have to profess such a thing, but the circumstances called for a strong response. It wouldn’t do to attract any more of the ton’s attention.

  Once the uproar died down, she would find herself a biddable husband who wanted nothing more than hearth and home, a man who would accept her substantial dowry as recompense for any undesirable murmurings coming from the ton about her father’s gambling and drinking habits. This of course didn’t bode well for Lord Martins. She had no intention of changing her mind about him.

  As for Richard, she didn’t need tingles or passionate kisses. Lily sniffed. They were passing fancies that in time would falter. Worse came to worst, she’d retire to the country and lead a quiet life, like she’d always dreamt about. She had enough money to live comfortably outside society’s reach.

  Dealing with Lord Lyon would be much more difficult from here on out. Lily would have to keep him at arms length, prevent him from addling her wits. There would be no more walks or dances. And absolutely no more kissing allowed. She had no idea what she would say or do the next time she encountered him. But there was no doubt in her mind there would be a next time.

  *

  Richard arrived at Josephine’s a little after two-thirty in the morning. He couldn’t seem to keep the silly grin off his face. Tonight he’d kissed Lily and it had been everything he’d hoped for and more. Her innocence was palpable, along with the passion lying beneath her controlled surface. He had sensed it before but when she’d returned his kiss it was confirmed. She had all the qualities he could ever want in a bloodmate. All he needed now was confirmation.

  Richard couldn’t wait until he had her clothing peeled away and her thighs spread. He would instruct her in the ways of making love. There was no doubt in his mind, she’d be a quick study. Richard licked his lips in anticipation. All he had to do was get around Lily’s father. For his and Lily’s sake, he’d figure out a way.

  The doorman once again bid him welcome and opened the door to Josephine’s. Tonight he was in the mood for a quick game or two of cards. He felt lucky. Richard entered the parlor containing tables set up for the various faro and whist games.

  He signaled to a butler to bring him a glass of wine and then proceeded to the nearest table of whist. He’d be able to stomach enough of the liquid to fit in with those around him. The cards were dealt and an hour easily slipped by. Richard was winning and it looked as if his luck had well and truly turned for the better. His back was to the door, when Lord Archibald Devlin entered the room.

  Richard stilled the second he caught the man’s overly perfumed scent. He warred with himself, trying to decide whether he should confront Devlin or not. He could hardl
y deny the man’s charges. He had ruined Lord William Longfellow and he’d do it again given the same circumstances. Devlin sat at a table directly behind him, immediately ordering a brandy, and then settled into a new game with some of the usual patrons. Another hour passed and Richard heard cursing. Devlin drank heavily. His words began to slur, letting Richard know beyond a doubt that the man was thoroughly foxed.

  “Damn, lost again,” Devlin grumbled loudly, tossing the cards on the table.

  Richard’s ears perked up even more as Josephine approached Devlin. If Archibald didn’t slow down he’d find himself purse pinched.

  Devlin mumbled, “Josephine, my love, I’m in need of your assistance again.”

  “I’m afraid Archie, I cannot extend you any more credit. Lord Martins holds most of your assets. And your losses here are already extensive,” she purred. “If you lose again, I’ll have to claim your house, or perhaps we can arrange something else…I’m sure you have something of value I could put to good use.” The insinuation was there.

  “No need to worry about Lord Martins, we have an arrangement. Soon I’ll have all the money I need.” His lips smacked as he spoke.

  “That’s well and fine, but it doesn’t change your current situation.”

  “I told you I’ll get you the money.”

  His plea fell on deaf ears.

  Richard’s eyes widened as the implications became clear, then his blood ran cold. If someone didn’t get the man away from the tables, his family would be homeless or worse. He didn’t want to even think about the arrangement he had going with Lord Martins, Richard could just imagine, seeing as this was the second time the man’s name had come up.

  If Devlin was requesting credit from Josephine, then the man had obviously already gambled away Lily’s dowry. Anger rose within Richard. The thought of Lily being put out on the streets or enslaved here, cut through him like a knife. He couldn’t allow it to happen and he wouldn’t.

  “Double damn,” the voice behind him barked once more.

  Richard closed his eyes, the truth of the situation sinking in. Devlin had just lost again, even after Josephine warned him. The man must have cabbage for brains or more likely brandy, since he stunk of Napoleon’s finest. Richard’s lids flew open and he rose from the table, gathering his winnings. He wasn’t sure exactly what he planned on doing, but he had to act fast before Luc and Armand got a hold of Devlin. Once that occurred the man would promise Josephine anything—including Lily.

  With a scowl upon his face Richard walked forward until he could see Archibald. He looked utterly defeated. His hands were buried in his silver hair and his blue eyes were watery and bloodshot. Richard nodded to the men at the table, quickly scanning their minds to ensure the games had been won fairly. They stood, taking their winnings with them and left. He sat in the chair directly across from Devlin, waiting for the man to recognize him. It took a few moments.

  Archibald’s face split into a sneer. “I thought I told you I didn’t want to see you around anymore.”

  Richard patiently stared at the drunken man. “It seems to me you were referring to your daughter at the time, not this establishment.”

  Josephine flashed a smile at Richard and then sauntered to a stool nearby, so she could get a better view of the action. Her face lit up with anticipation. The woman liked the sight of blood, almost as much as he did. If he didn’t know any better he’d swear she was vampire too. Richard shook his head, but didn’t bother asking her to leave, because it would be a waste of time. She owned the place and was entitled to sit where she liked.

  “What do you want?” Devlin hissed.

  Richard arched a brow, inclining his head toward the man. “You know what I want.”

  Devlin’s lips thinned. “Never! After what you did to my friend, to me, I’ll allow Lily nowhere near your kind.”

  Tilting his head away from Josephine, Richard smiled, showing Devlin just enough of his fangs to appear menacing. He slipped into Archibald’s mind, ready to plant terrifying pictures if he chose to defy him. It was like stepping into Scottish bog, thick, black and bottomless. “Rest assured, Devlin, you have no idea what kind of man you’re dealing with.”

  “And I don’t care! Lily’s future is all but secured.” Devlin pushed back from the table, almost falling over in the process. He stuck out his hand to steady himself then stood. With a shaky finger he pointed at Richard. “I’d rather see my daughter working as a whore, before I’d allow you to have her.”

  To insinuate that even his presence was worse than subjecting Lily to this sort of life went beyond insulting. Richard stood so fast he tipped the table. The wood crashed to the floor, scattering markers in all directions. Rage the likes of which he’d never felt boiled beneath his skin, scalding his insides. “Listen to me and listen well, Lily will never step foot in a place like this.” His hands fisted as he fought to keep his talons sheathed. “And she will never have to pay off your foolishness in your stead. Do you understand me?” Without physically touching him, Richard squeezed Devlin’s throat with invisible hands.

  A twitch started in Archibald’s cheek and he couldn’t seem to keep the tremors from his fingers. He clawed at his throat, trying to break the hold. Richard released him and shot Josephine a questioning glance. She shrugged. Devlin’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

  “Now that I have your attention.” Richard jabbed himself in the chest with his thumb. “I’m going to pay off half of your losses.”

  Devlin’s gaze widened and he swayed. “Half?”

  “To start.” Richard tugged at his cuffs. “And in return for my generosity, you’re going to accept my offer to court Lily and ask for her hand in marriage.”

  “Never,” Devlin spat and took a step toward Richard as if he considered throttling him. “I’ve got my own plans for her future and they do not include you.”

  Richard allowed his eyes to flash red, showing the beast inside. Devlin took an immediate step back, his hands trembling.

  “I suggest you reconsider, before I change my mind and let Armand and Luc take you out back.” Richard pointed to the two men who were all too eager to pounce at a moment’s notice.

  Devlin’s gaze shot to the bodyguards standing off to Josephine’s right. Their hard expressions pinned him in place. The man’s demeanor faltered as he realized the truth in Richard’s words.

  His face hardened. “What do you want from me?”

  Richard’s jaw hurt so badly from clenching it, he wouldn’t have been surprised to hear teeth crack. “You know what I want.”

  “But why Lily? There are many available women in the ton, many far younger.” Devlin’s voice sounded like a petulant child being asked to share a toy.

  “It is not your concern,” Richard bit out. “Just know she will be well cared for. Now do I have your permission to court and then offer for her?”

  All but impotent to decline, Devlin’s limbs shook as he fought his growing rage. “Yes, but Lily has to agree to the match, if she does not, then you’ll leave us alone— never to return,” he growled in defeat. Archibald found the nearest chair and sat, holding his head in his hands.

  “You have my word.” He didn’t hesitate.

  Devlin nodded.

  “Good, then it’s settled.” Richard ground out. “The other half of your debt will be paid once we’re married, if for any reason that does not transpire the debt will revert back to you—all the debt. I’m sure Luc and Armand will be happy to discuss the matter further, if need be.”

  Archibald looked up and inclined his head. Richard glanced at Josephine, who smiled widely.

  “I was afraid I’d have to have Armand and Luc talk some sense into the man. Luckily you saved me the trouble.” She put her hand on Richard’s arm, his muscles tensed for a moment and then relaxed. “Can I get you anything else?”

  Damn it if Devlin hadn’t brought on his thirst for blood. “An hour with Rose,” he eased out, hiding his fangs. “And then I’ll be on my way, once I�
��ve settled half of Lord Devlin’s debts and drawn up a contract for the rest.”

  Josephine’s brow arched. “She must be quite a girl for you to go to so much trouble and expense, ma chéri. I certainly hope she is worth it.”

  Richard slid her a glance and then smiled. “She is.”

  Chapter Five

  Far away from her dream state, Lily heard a light rapping. What was that noise? She burrowed deep within the soft linens on her bed, willing the disturbance to cease. Swaths of rich navy fabric curtained the frame, keeping the rising sunlight at bay. Some mornings she woke with the distinct impression that she’d slept in a cocoon. The sound increased in volume, turning to pounding, as she pulled herself from the depths of slumber. Lily blinked, her eyes felt as if a bag of sand had been dumped into them.

  She’d spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what had occurred between Lord Lyon and her father to make her father hate him so. Everyone about the ton had heard the tale of Lord William Longfellow. He’d gone from good standing to ruin after his business dealings had turned sour. Rumor had it Lord Lyon was involved, but it had never been proven. Surely, her father’s friendship with Lord Longfellow would have survived such a fall, unless there was more to it than mere friendship.

  Lily knew her father didn’t involve himself with anything or anyone unless money exchanged hands. The thought brought a sinking feeling to her stomach. Suddenly all was clear. Her father hated Richard because he had lost money when Lord Longfellow was ruined.

  She pictured the handsome Lord Lyon. Warmth spread through Lily as she recalled the drugging allure of Richard’s illicit kiss. Even now she could almost feel the pressure of his lips as they pressed coaxingly against her own. The sound came again, this time louder. Lily started to rise.

  Her maid, Tildy, rushed in, shutting the door behind her, before Lily could even beckon her in.

  “Beggin’ your pardon, my lady, but your father wishes to speak with you.” Tildy looked over her shoulder as a fist landed hard on the wood, concern marring her brow. “Immediately,” she squeaked.