Lilly pressed her lips together to stop her mouth from trembling, so that she could speak clearly. “What is your name, Thomsett? Your full name. What do the initials J.A.T. stand for? No one has ever told me.”
“That is hardly a surprise,” he said quietly. “Did you know Corcoran’s given name?”
“Bertie.” She smiled. “I called him that once. I thought his head might pop off and explode right there in front of me. My mother would use his given name if she wanted to make sure he heard her.”
Thomsett shook his head. “Your family…” Then, “Jasper Anson Thomsett.”
Jasper.
“I’ve been thinking, while I have been sitting here waiting for you to return,” Lilly told him.
“I’m sorry I made you wait. It took time, to acknowledge what must be done.”
“That’s the crux of it, isn’t it? If I were the Lillian I once was, if I had never met Blackawton, then I am quite sure I would have taken a second kiss, after that first one.”
Thomsett sucked in a breath. “I do not believe that,” he said stiffly. “You are a lady who knows her station and the responsibilities it brings.”
“I do,” Lilly agreed. “My mother ensured I understood clearly what society expects of me. However, in my family, what society expects and what we actually do are often two different things. You know this. You have been privy to much of it in the last few years, since Raymond married my mother.”
Thomsett shook his head. “I refuse to believe you were the bold, forward creature you are describing.”
“I was not scandalous in my ways,” Lilly said. “I skirted the edge of propriety on more than one occasion, yet I took care never to step over that edge. Despite that, if I were still that woman, when you kissed me I would have begged for a second kiss and more.”
Thomsett closed his eyes.
“I would have wanted another kiss because you are courageous, Thomsett. Because you are brave and honorable. Because your morals are perhaps stronger than mine. No, because I know they are stronger. I wouldn’t have given a damn that your rank is not the same as mine.”
His eyes opened and his lips parted in surprise.
“I have never cared about such things as rank and privilege. No one in my family does, not when the doors are closed and sometimes, when they are open for the world to see, too. My uncle is a commoner who married a princess and everyone stood behind them when he did.”
“I am aware of this quality within your family,” Thomsett said softly.
“You are a loyal friend and you are a handsome man when you are not pretending to be a butler and when you do not scowl.”
He scowled. “I am not that man. Not any more, if I ever was. You know that in your heart, because you did not ask for a second kiss.”
“I didn’t ask, because I don’t deserve it.”
Thomsett leaned forward, as if he had been jerked forward. “No. That is not true,” he said urgently. He reached his hand forward, placing it on the cushion, as if he was pleading for her to take it back.
“I am a fallen woman, Jasper.”
His gaze met hers. “You make it sound as if you had an affair and were discovered for the world to see your shame. I know it did not happen that way. I have heard you in your sleep, remember.”
Lilly swallowed. “It is true. He raped me.”
Thomsett flinched at the raw word.
“It was not an affair,” Lilly added. “He forced me to it. I was such an innocent, I was flattered by his attention. He said all the right things, you see. Compliments, never anything too risqué. Attentions, little gifts, that a gentleman can give a lady and not be considered too forward. He knew exactly what to say to turn my head. I was a fool. I stepped outside with him when he asked, when he begged me for the small favor of a few minutes for him to ask me a question.” Lilly grimaced. “Every debutante knows what that request means. I nearly floated outside. When he got me there, he forced me into his carriage and…” She pressed her hand to her mouth, the sickness racing through her.
“Don’t say anything more. There’s no need,” Thomsett said, his voice low.
Lilly dropped her hand. “He told me he loved me. Afterward, when I was too stunned to move. He loved my spirit and my independence and my forward thinking. He was so matter-of-fact about it, as if what he had done was normal, as if it was the way any relationship went. Then he pushed me out of the carriage and I…I ran home, even though the family carriage was right there. I didn’t want anyone to see me.”
She looked out through the window. It was bright sunlight out there, another cloudless August day, yet she saw only the blackness of the street and the pools of light thrown by the gas lamps, that she avoided lest anyone see her state.
“Lilly.”
Lilly made herself look at him. “I wanted you to know who it was you thought you had kissed.”
“Did you think I did not already know?” he asked gently.
She couldn’t meet his gaze any longer. She looked at her hands, turning them over in her lap. “Everyone thinks they understand.” The core of the truth sat there in her heart. She couldn’t speak the words, even though they had driven her every day for seven years. Instead, she skirted them, as she had all along. “It’s my fault. I don’t deserve to have…a life.”
“You judge yourself too harshly,” Thomsett said. “I do not.”
“You should.”
“Any gentleman might. I know what society expects of a woman,” Thomsett said in agreement. “I am not a gentleman, though. My mother was a disgraced woman, Lilly. If I did not judge her, how can I judge you?”
Lilly gripped her hands together. “You are…are…”
“I am a bastard,” he said flatly. “As we are using blunt words,” he added. “My mother came from an upper class family and fell in love with an Archduke. He couldn’t marry her, not even when she told him she was with child, although he took care of her for her entire life. It didn’t matter, the damage was done. Her family never spoke to her again.”
Lilly’s heart seemed to come to a small standstill, before it kicked back into a fast rhythm. “You are the son of royalty?”
“The illegitimate son,” he amended. No bitterness sounded in his voice for the life he might have had. “Less than even the common man on the street,” he added. “They at least have their father’s name they can claim.” His gaze was calm. “The initials you saw…there was one missing. My full name, the complete name, is Jasper Anson Dominik Thomsett.”
“Dominik was your father’s name? The Archduke?”
“It was, although I cannot claim even that much, publicly. I am nobody and nothing…even less than a man, now. That is why anything that lies between us cannot be given life.”
Lilly jumped a little. “You keep saying that. You still do not understand. I am not making myself clear enough.” She sat up—for slouching was possible without a corset, a delightful fact she had discovered lately. “I must be even more blunt than I have been already and risk shocking you.”
“I was a soldier. There is nothing you could say that would shock me.” The corners of his mouth turned up just a little. “Although you may try.”
Lilly licked her lips. She spoke of shocking him, yet to say the words aloud took courage. “At the stile, that day, do you remember?”
“I remember every little detail,” he said, his voice low.
“I could not kiss you, even though I wanted to.”
“Because I was too close. I made your memories return.”
“Yes, exactly.”
“Why do you sound pleased about that?” he demanded. “Do you not know how much I hated myself for that?”
“I am pleased, because when you did kiss me, over there, just behind where you sit now, the memories didn’t stir at all. Not even a little bit.”
He grew still. Lilly watched as his thoughts turn inward, as if his mind was furiously busy. Reassessing, perhaps. Certainly, thinking it through.
&nbs
p; “I was angry at Newman,” Lilly said. “His cavalier attitude toward you began it. His utter assurance that he could overcome any objection I might have made it grow. So when you did kiss me, the anger kept the memories away long enough for me to experience your kiss.”
“You enjoyed it…” he breathed. His gaze met hers. “I was so sure of you, I thought the sound you made was one of terror.”
The world seemed to shift. Even the light changed, as Lilly saw how it had looked to him. “Oh, Jasper…”
He drew in a breath and leaned back against the alcove wall and let it out, his gaze upon the ceiling.
“Tell me you were kissing an earl’s daughter,” Lilly urged. “Tell me you give a damn about my title.”
Thomsett drew in another breath. “I know why you want that to be the reason why I kissed you. You want to despise me, so you can push me away. Only, my father was an Archduke, Lilly. I care as much for such matters as you do.”
Lilly hung her head. “I knew that,” she admitted. “There were so many things you said and did that told me you didn’t care. You even call me Lilly, every now and again. You were scrupulous about addressing everyone correctly, yet I always felt that, in your mind, we were all merely Lilly and Natasha and Raymond and so on.”
“It isn’t disrespect,” he said, his voice low. “In my mind you are…”
“People?” Lilly suggested.
“Friends,” he amended.
Lilly sighed. “Yet I am still Lady Lillian. What you think in your mind cannot change that. As honorable and admirable as I believe you to be means I can never be worthy of you.”
“Which I will dispute to the end of my days,” he said, his voice harsh. “Not that it matters. Lilly, you keep sliding past the one overbearing reason why that kiss should never have happened and it has nothing to do with what you think of yourself, or any objections the ton may come up with, which would be legion, I assure you. The fact is, I am less than a man. War changed me. You saw it yourself, the day of the trooping of colors. You saw what the mere sound of violence did to me. Only it’s more than that. In the face of anger, or the threat of conflict I…wither.” His tone was flat. He was making himself say such awful things. “Even the simplest of men can defend their house and hearth and protect their families. I cannot do even that.”
His gaze met hers. A deep furrow marred his brow. It was hurting him to speak of this.
“You say you don’t care what I am, Lilly. Let’s suppose for a moment that I accept that and we stood together and faced not just the wrath and dismay of your family, but also the gauntlet of society….” He shook his head. “I would be useless to you,” he finished. The bitterness this time was deep. “At the first hint of disapproval, I would fold and creep away to nurse my ills.”
Lilly understood. Her vision blurred. She felt the heat of her tears on her cheeks and didn’t bother to wipe them away or try to hide them. “You are the only man who has ever made me forget who I am. You are the only one who has touched me, here.” She pressed her fingers over her heart. Then she wiped her eyes for she wanted to see his face.
Thomsett’s expression was miserable. “I would make your life intolerable,” he whispered.
“Then where do we go from here?”
He didn’t answer for a long time. When he did, his voice was hoarse. “I don’t know.”
Chapter Fourteen
What Lilly had not anticipated, what she should have taken into account, was that no matter the result of her plain speaking, the two of them were still obliged to remain in the little cottage. They passed through the days, separated by a yawning acre of silence that Shelby’s cheerful presence did little to fill. Lilly was grateful that Shelby was there at all. She relieved some of the tension, at least, with her gossipy chatting about every near neighbor and the grand house party at the big house.
Even though neither of them asked for details, Shelby explained to them in a rambling monologue about past years’ parties and who had worn what shocking outfit, who had got drunk and the many and varied indiscretions of the guests, both confirmed and conjectured. It was happy, mindless prattle that lifted the silence, as Shelby shelled peas and peeled vegetables.
When Shelby had retired for the night, Lilly retreated to the rocking chair and a book, while Thomsett sat on the end of the sofa closest to the fire and stared at the flames and fed the fire as it needed it. As the lantern sat over Lilly’s shoulder to light the page of her book, only the firelight lit Thomsett’s face, making shadows dance around his eyes and the curls of his black hair.
Lilly found herself watching his face often.
As the end of the week drew near and the night of the house party arrived, the days grew hotter.
“Late August here can be warm,” Shelby said. “For all the sea is only three miles away, there’s not a hint of a breeze will come from it to cool a soul. Three days of this, then there will be a storm to put hell to shame. Mark my words.”
Thomsett let the fire go out in the hearth and they opened up the house, encouraging even the smallest of cross-breezes. Lilly left off all but a single layer of linens beneath her dress to combat the heat and pinned up every loose strand of hair off the back of her neck.
When Thomsett took off his jacket and cravat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, she made no comment. Later, he even removed the collar and placed the pins on the mantelshelf. Then, even his waistcoat.
None of it seemed to help. The heat made the air throb around them.
On the day of the party, the afternoon seemed to last forever. Nothing moved. Even the roses and ivy on the side of the house were wilted and still.
Lilly tried to read, only she was too enervated for even that small exercise. She sat in the rocker with her eyes closed and fanned herself.
Eventually, the sun moved toward the horizon. Long before it set, though, Lilly heard music in the air, like a rumor of the sea from far away.
“Is that Mozart?” she asked, sitting up.
Shelby had been dozing in her chair at the table, her cap nodding. She sat up with a snort and looked around blinking, the towel she had been hemming slithering from her hands.
Thomsett turned his head and closed his eyes, straining to listen. “A contredanse,” he said. “Non più andrai, I think.”
Shelby plucked her dress away from her chest and blew out a breath. “They did say at the big house that they might hold the entire party outside if the weather continued. I’m guessing they did just that.”
Lilly knew the dance quite well. There were several movements to it. She listened, delighted, almost humming along.
Then another tune, faint and cheerful. A Polonaise.
Shelby eased herself onto her feet and opened the front door. Immediately, the music became clearer. “Oh, but that lets in the heat,” she exclaimed and made to close the door once more.
“Please don’t,” Lilly exclaimed. “I would much rather hear the music.”
“Very well,” Shelby said. “In that case, I think lemonade is in order. There’s still half a bag of sugar in the pantry and there may even be some mint…” She went back into the kitchen.
The music heralded a shift in the torpor of the day. As Lilly sipped Shelby’s refreshing lemonade, she wondered if it was her imagination that supplied the tiniest of breezes, to flutter through the room. She got to her feet and stretched.
Thomsett stirred, too. “The wind is changing,” he said, looking out the window. “Shelby’s storm will be here by midnight.”
Lilly looked at the sky. It was cloudless.
“Trust me,” Thomsett said. “You’ll see.”
It was hard to believe, in this enervating heat, that a wild storm was anywhere near at hand.
After supper, though, just as the sun disappeared, Lilly spotted the first wisps of cloud on the horizon, coming in from the sea. With them, came a soft wind.
Lilly lifted her chin and let it bathe her face.
“Step outside, my lady,” Shel
by said, as she cleared the table. “It’ll be ever so lovely out there now.”
“That is a good idea,” Lilly said. Thomsett held the door open for her and she stepped out onto the finely ground gravel and stood with her eyes closed as the breeze ruffled her hair.
Perhaps because of the wind, or because they were actually standing outside now, the music from the big house seemed to jump in volume and Lilly thought she could even hear people laughing and talking. The polka was quick and lively and made her toe tap out the beat.
Thomsett stood next to her, his head down, listening.
The music ended and immediately, another tune began. “A waltz,” Lilly identified.
“Strauss,” Thomsett added. He turned to her and held up his hand. “May I?”
Lilly stepped into his arms and they danced, their boots on the gravel crunching unmusically. It didn’t matter, for the music made up for it, as did the sweeping, dipping turns of the dance.
So many matrons disapproved of waltzes, although Lilly had always loved them. Gentlemen never brushed up against their partners. Thomsett was also holding her so the proper six inches was between them, yet she was in his arms and her heart was beating far harder than the simple movements of the waltz demanded.
If only he would draw her closer. If only…
She looked up at him, her eyes blurring with tears.
“You liked to dance, once, didn’t you?” he asked, his voice low. “You are good at it.”
“I did like to dance,” she whispered. “When I was young and foolish and thought I had the rest of my life ahead of me.”
The music ended although Thomsett didn’t come to an abrupt stop. The turns slowed and slowed, until they were standing together, this time with their bodies against each other.
His hand tightened on her waist, as he bent and brought his lips to hers.
There was no misunderstanding this time. No hesitation or fear. The kiss was perfect. Her body seemed to melt against his. This time, when his tongue pressed inside, she welcomed it.
Every inch of her tingled and when he groaned against her mouth, her heart leapt high and hard. Jasper was holding her. Holding her up, while he bent over her and plundered her mouth in a way no polite gentleman ever had.
Valor of Love (Scandalous Scions Book 2) Page 13
