by Tia Wylder
Will deposited her near the punch table. “I shall return to you forthwith, but I must make the rounds.” He nodded to her, then whirled and disappeared into the crowd. Lily sat down again, too dizzy to even attempt to stand, too dazed to notice that Will was being polite to her, and stared in awe at the glittering crowd around her. So many beautiful, respectable people, she thought, and I don't belong among them at all. I am a fraud.
But this is the life you will give to Rosie, another voice rejoined, and this thought made Lily so happy that she beamed at no one in particular, Rosie will grow up among all these fine, respectable people, and you will raise her well, so that no matter how wretched a man her step-father is, these people will love and accept her.
Lily lost herself daydreaming about Rosie, and nearly screamed when Will materialized and bent down low and said, with his lips nearly brushing her ear, “When you smile like that, Mrs. Blackwood, you are the most beautiful woman in all London.” Lily turned and pouted at him for startling her, and, laughing, he straightened and crossed his arms. “When you look like that, however, you more resemble a sulking kitten.”
“What do you want?” Lily demanded. “All of high society is already mocking me, Will Blackwood, I'll thank you not to rejoin the mockery, hm?” She patted her hair and looked away from him, trying to maintain some dignity, but it was impossible... every time Will so much as looked at her, Lily felt naked.
“I love this song!” Will exclaimed as the quartet started. He took Lily's hand. “Dance with me, Mother. Please?”
Lily's cheeks puffed as she prepared to refuse. But she did love to dance... and she hadn't had the chance in so long... and Lord Blackwood certainly wasn't going to ask her, and she knew she was tainted so no other men would want to dance with her, either... it seemed, if she was to dance, it would be with Will or not at all.
“Very well,” she said with a shrug, trying to act as if she did not care. Secretly, she was pleased at the prospect of some fun on this otherwise nerve-racking and stodgy occasion. Will led her to the middle of the floor and held her very, very close, then led her into a basic dance. He was not overly learned in the finer points of waltzing, but he did it beautifully after his own fashion. Lily held on to him and, for a few minutes at least, she forgot all her cares, forgot that she hated Will, forgot about the flocks of women clustered around and glaring at the two of them in disapproval, she even almost forgot to worry about Rosie. For a few minutes, Lily Monroe was just another twenty-year-old young lady in her own mind, and Will Blackwood was just another devilishly handsome young man.
His feet did not stop moving as he took her into the next song, and a third, and a fourth. He danced so nicely that Lillian was tempted to name it among his very few redeeming qualities, as a matter of fact. She had not smiled this much in many long years, so it was a shame when her legs started to give, as she could not breathe very well at all and the exertion of the dancing overcame her. She thought, for a second, that she might just collapse and embarrass herself and the Blackwoods, but Will held her tight. His face was uncharacteristically soft as he slowed down, sliding his arms around Lily's upper body to hold her up (and hug her to his chest).
“Are you fatigued, Mrs. Blackwood?” he asked far too gently. This sudden turn of character made Lily nervous.
“Are you suddenly a gentleman, Master Blackwood?” she retorted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I am terribly fatigued, would you kindly return me to my seat?”
“Only if I may carry you over my shoulder like a sack of sugar, for you are just as sweet,” he teased. Lily smiled even though she wanted to scoff, and no, Will did not throw her over his shoulder. He slid one arm behind her back and around her waist, and the other for her to grab on to, and walked her over to her chair. Lily sat down too hard, alarmed to hear her breath wheezing in her throat. She fanned herself and breathed as deep as she could, unable to even spare a breath to thank Will for helping her.
Will stood by, watching Lily with a strange look on his face. He fetched her a glass of punch, then stood back again. “I say, Mother dear, perhaps your corset is drawn too tight.” Lily's nostrils flared in annoyance and she was so irritated and so dizzy she could not formulate a retort. “Perhaps I can be of some assistance.” He offered his hand. “Come, I'll loosen it for you that you may take half-breaths instead of quarter-breaths, hm? And then perhaps you shall only swoon half as much.”
Lily wanted to rebuke him but the prospect of more oxygen was too good to pass up. She clung to Will's arm as he led her out of the crowded ballroom and down the deserted hallway. Once they were out of the public eye, Will lifted Lily in his arms, and his brow clouded with concern. It was a foreign expression to his face and Lily wondered if she was seeing things. He poked his head in a few rooms before he found a likely-looking parlor at the end of the hallway, where he shouldered the door open and put Lily down on the couch.
“It is well that you are my Mother, for it would otherwise be unseemly for us to be alone and unchaperoned,” he said, helping Lily sit up so that he could unfasten the dress for her. Her breath was coming in short, spasmodic, shallow gasps as Will worked. “Good God, Minnie's got the touch of a field hand,” he chuckled, “I can scarcely budge her knots... lucky for you, your despicable rake of a son spends plenty of time with sailors and knows his way around a hank of rope. And a corset,” he added with a saucy grin.
“Really Will, if you could just five minutes without saying anything rude,” Lily muttered, but all her complaints evaporated from her mind and mouth when Will finally loosened her corset strings and she drew her first full, deep breath in hours. “Oh thank God.”
“You're welcome, but you can call me Will.” He sat beside her and put a hand on her knee, head tilted to one side as he scrutinized her face. Lily's brow puckered.
“What?” she asked, blushing with that feeling of nakedness that always accompanied Will's gaze.
“Even in the most deplorable of circumstances, you manage to be breathtakingly lovely,” he sighed, putting a hand to her cheek.
“Tis my corset that is breathtaking,” Lily couldn't help but say, her hand drifting up to touch Will's.
“Touche,” said Will, and he leaned forward and kissed Lily deeply, pulling her small body close. Lily resisted for half a second before she melted into his strong, slender arms and let herself succumb to the pleasure of his kiss.
Chapter Seven
“Master Blackwood, you must unhand me.” The words left her lips mechanically, because she knew that it was what she was supposed to say, but Lily had no heart behind them. Will's kiss left her whole body tingling and yearning for more.
“You're right,” said Will, much to her chagrin. He removed his arms from around Lily and pulled his face away, though he could not resist smoothing her hair back from her forehead. “I already besmirch my family's name on a weekly basis, no need for added complications, hm?”
“Quite,” Lily agreed weakly.
“Best get back to the party then. Are you well, Mrs. Blackwood?” Will got to his feet and offered her his hand.
“I should think so, Master Blackwood. I thank you for your assistance.” Lily took Will's hand and stood, grateful that the change in posture was no longer accompanied by a wave of dizziness. Never again would she take for granted the ability to breathe!
She followed Will back to the ballroom and he disappeared into the crowd. Lily stuck to the wall and was content to watch, which was a good thing because she was not acquainted with the assembled and neither of her escorts had bothered to introduce her to anyone. She was far too tired to socialize anyway, so Lily helped herself to another glass of punch and conjured visions of Rosie hobnobbing with the upper crust and being ushered into a much easier, happier way of life than hers had been.
Both Lord and Master Blackwood were drunk by the time they piled into the carriage to return home. Even Lily was a mite tipsy from tippling punch on an empty stomach. Lord Blackwood staggered inside and passed out
on a divan in the foyer and was snoring loudly before Lily even set foot inside the front door. She scowled at the great, fat, drunken louse as she handed her shawl to Old George, only it was not Old George who took it, but Will.
“Oh, thank you,” Lily said, caught off-guard by his sudden appearance at her side. She could smell the punch on his breath and the tobacco smoke on his clothes.
“Anything for you, Mother dear,” Will murmured, dropping Lily's shawl on the floor only to slide an arm across her bare shoulders. Lily turned to pick up the shawl, since it was a costly embroidered silk with tassels and rhinestones and everything, but before she could get to the garment, Will sidestepped and blocked her. Lily found herself with not three inches between herself and the younger Blackwood, who was staring down at her intently.
“Master Blackwood,” Lily whispered, her tone somewhat indicating protest, mostly poorly concealed desire.
Will stared at her a moment longer, then slid his hands around her tiny waist. He pulled her close to him and kissed her again, forcing her lips apart with his tongue, making Lily shiver and whine a little in the back of her throat. He started kissing down her neck and Lily gasped and squirmed, trying to free herself from his hold.
“You must let me go, Lord Blackwood is right there!” Lily hissed.
“Lord Blackwood won't wake up until teatime on the morrow,” Will mumbled into Lily's neck, “the old boor is more than twice your age with less than half the wits and no grace at all, you are wasted on him, and I will not let you go to waste. I must have you, Miss Monroe.” He kissed her neck again, then moved down to the tops of her breasts, so brutally constrained by the corset, but sensitive nonetheless. Lily mewled and tangled a hand in Will's hair.
“You... you mustn't,” Lily said, arching her back into his touch, “you make me feel so strange, Will Blackwood, I have never felt this for a man before and if you persist I shan't be able to resist any more.”
“Then stop resisting,” he grunted.
“I--... I want to,” Lily admitted, which made Will's head pop up so that he could look at her with mild incredulity. She giggled at the expression on his face and looked away. “I have never felt... pleasure... of this nature,” she confessed, “when I saw you and the servants in the garden the other night, I had a... a feeling...”
“A feeling?” Will bit his lip and began hitching up Lily's skirts. Lily watched him in breathless excitement. “Tell me more,” he prodded.
“Between my legs,” Lily all but squeaked, her small, pale fingers digging in to Will's arms as his hand delved expertly through her layers of undergarments. “There was a... a heat,” she elaborated.
“Did you like it?” Will said. His voice was husky and low, his eyes half-lidded. “Did you touch yourself?”
“Yes,” Lily breathed, her lashes fluttering as she felt Will's hot hand against her bare skin, burrowing down the waist of her bloomers. “Oh, Will,” she gasped, holding tight as his fingers began to explore her folds, “I was so jealous of Minnie that night, I--... I wanted to be her. I wanted to know what made her--”
Lily was about to say moan, but her voice dissolved into an inarticulate moan of its own as Will pressed a finger to her pearl. Lily pitched forward and pushed her face into Will's chest as he stroked her, and held her against his strong, slender form. She shuddered and gasped as he released his finger, then pressed again.
“Then you shall know,” he said huskily.
His arm tightened around Lily's shoulders as he pleasured her, relishing in the chorus of sweet little noises she made, her voice high and breathless as she tried to keep quiet with Lord Blackwood snoring soundly not twenty feet away. When her noises intensified, escalating from short, quiet moans to longer and louder ones, and she was near the edge of climax, Will withdrew his hand from her folds slowly undressed her bottom half. Lily could see Will's member straining against his trousers and when she was naked beneath her skirts, he unbuttoned his trousers, and the sight of him excited her. She looked at him hungrily, hypnotized as he came forward and took her hand and guided it to his shaft. Lily gasped again, because she wasn't sure she had ever felt a man's organ before, not like this, and it felt curiously warm and silky and firm. She explored the sensitive head with her fingertips, earning a shuddering sigh from Will which excited her in turn.
Before Lily knew what was happening, Will had her pressed up against the wall, and she worried that things were about to take a turn, but he picked her up and braced her back against the wall and threw her legs around his waist. “Hold tight,” he whispered with half-lidded eyes, and Lily whimpered helplessly as she felt Will's girth penetrate the sensitive tightness of her opening.
“Oh, Will,” she panted, her hands feeling weak as they dug in to his shoulders and he began thrusting inside of her, and it was unlike anything she had ever felt before. His member pressed against the top of her, creating a delicious pressure that was driving her positively mad with pleasure. He paid close attention to the sounds she made, and varied his speed accordingly, until Lily was pawing at him and crying out over and over, her voice high and needy as he pushed her closer and then over the edge of orgasm.
She clung to him, shaking in the aftershocks, and Will held her for a moment, then gently lowered her feet back to the floor. Lily nearly collapsed, but he held her up until she was steady and then helped her collect her undergarments, giving her bloomers a hearty sniff before handing them back to her. Lily scoffed, scandalized somehow by this more than being taken in the foyer, and watched Will drunkenly saunter off, presumably to the courtyard for a smoke. Dazed, exhausted, and confused, Lily mounted the stairs back to her own chambers to sleep.
Chapter Eight
It was only due to sheer exhaustion that Lily managed to get any sleep that night. She sat down on the bed to rest a moment and fell asleep before she even took off her clothes.
When she woke, having slept soundly for only a few hours, she was in physical pain from sleeping in the corset, and her spirit was in pain as she remembered what had happened with Will. Her heart thrilled when she recalled him helping her with her corset at the ball, how he managed to be at once utterly rakish and perfectly gallant was beyond her! And then when they'd gotten home--! Lily sat up in bed, feeling the heat rekindle between her legs when she thought of him taking her in the foyer like that, and the pleasure he had made her feel, she never knew it was possible to feel this way, she never really even believed that love existed, but Lily had a feeling in her breast when she thought of Will, and she could not name it or even describe it, but it was bittersweetly pleasant.
Was this love?
No! NO! A thousand times no! She could not marry Will, she must marry Lord Blackwood to get her daughter back! She could not fall in love with Will... all he did was show her carnal pleasure, he was a cad, a ne'er-do-well, he was rude and arrogant and mean and he did not love her, he was only using her the way he used Minnie and the pretty scullery maid, but... but... he had those occasional moments of tenderness....
“NO!” Lily said aloud, hopping to her feet and stamping her foot. She marched over to the mirror and stared herself in the eyes. “I will not fall in love with that boy,” she said severely. “Look how pale you are, look how thin, you look half-dead... is this what you want for Rosie! For if you do not marry Lord Blackwood you condemn Rosie to a life of hunger and hardship, pull yourself together!”
Lily huffed and went to the basin and splashed her face with water. The water helped calm her a little, but she was still feeling quite warm about Will, so she readied herself to go out. She needed to see Rosie to strengthen her resolve to marry Lord Blackwood at all costs. She changed clothes and put on her sturdiest shoes. It was still quite early in the morning so there were few about to see her go. She went out to the stable and chose a horse and began the hour-long ride into London to the charity home, Sainte Vierge, where she knew Rosie lived.
There was a light drizzle falling when she arrived, but the children were out in th
e yard to take their morning exercise. Lily held her breath, scanning the yard for Rosie, was she there? Was she alive and well? Had she contracted some wretched illness and died before Lily could save her?
Her heart leapt when she realized that Rosie was one of the ones chasing a hoop with a stick, it had only been so long since Lily had seen her that she barely recognized her. Rosie's pale brown hair was long and neatly braided, she had grown quite a bit, her complexion looked a bit pale and she was on the reedy side for a child her age, but she was screaming and laughing with the other children. Lily knew that the charity home was poor and she felt awful that the children weren't getting enough to eat, but they also seemed to be happy enough as they ran and played.
From across the way Lily watched, tears streaming down her face, and lost in her thoughts until someone grabbed her shoulder.
“Will!” she gasped, horrified, did he know?
“A bit early for a ride through town, don't you think?” he teased.
“I--... I was restless,” Lily said stiffly, blushing and looking away. Just being in his proximity was enough to make her tremble. “And you? What are you doing out here?”
Will's lips curled in a secretive smile. “I, too, was restless,” he said. “And feeling a bit under the weather from last night's excesses.”
“Hmm,” Lily agreed with a nod. Her head ached, too, although she was unsure whether from too much punch, or from heartache over Rosie.
