Then came you, by lisa kleypas.txt

by Then Came You (lit)

  "Lady Raiford," Ross said, looking from her to Giuseppe. "My mother sent me to inquire about your mysterious guest."

  "A friend of mine from Italy," Lily replied easily, though inwardly she was humiliated at having to introduce him. "Lord Lyon,

  may I present Count Giuseppe Gavazzi, a recent arrival in London."

  "How fortunate for us," Ross said with such overdone blandness that it was an insult.

  Giuseppe preened and smiled. "It is my 'ope we will both profit from our acquaintance, Lord Lyon."

  "Indeed," Ross replied in a regal manner reminiscent of his mother. He turned to Lily and asked politely, "Are you enjoying yourself, Lady Raiford?"

  "Immensely."

  He regarded her with a thin smile. "Have you ever considered a career on the stage, Lady Raiford? I believe you may have missed your calling." Without waiting for a reply, he strolled away in no apparent hurry.

  Lily swore under her breath. "He's going to my husband. Leave, Giuseppe, and put an end to this farce! Those seedy rags

  won't fool anyone into thinking you're an aristocrat."

  That infuriated him—she could see the malevolence flaring in his ebony eyes. "I t'ink I stay, caro."

  Lily heard her name being called in greeting as more guests arrived. She threw them a smile and a little wave, and spoke quietly

  to Giuseppe. "There must be a private room nearby. We'll go somewhere and talk. Come quickly, before my husband finds us."

  * * *

  Idly rolling a snifter of brandy in his hands, Ross stood by Alex, who had gathered with the other men in the gentlemen's room. They were all engrossed in arranging objects on a table to illustrate points as they disputed military tactics. "If the regiments positioned themselves here ..." one of them was saying, sliding a snuffbox, a pair of spectacles, and a small figurine to the

  corner of the table.

  Alex grinned and clamped the end of a cigar with his teeth as he interrupted. "No, it's easier if they split and move here . . .

  and here ..." He positioned the snuffbox and figurine so that they trapped the enemy, represented by a small painted vase.

  "There. Now the vase doesn't stand a chance in hell."

  Someone else spoke up. "But you've forgotten the scissors and the lampshade. They're in a prime position to charge from

  behind."

  "No, no," Alex began, but Ross interrupted, pulling him away from the table.

  "You have an interesting strategy," Ross said dryly, while the others continued the battle. "But there is a flaw, cousin. You

  should always leave a path for retreat."

  Alex glanced back at the table assessingly. "You think I should have left the snuffbox where it was?"

  "I'm not talking about the deuced snuffbox, cousin, or any sham battle." Ross lowered his voice several notches. "I'm referring

  to your clever little wife."

  Alex's face changed, his gray eyes freezing. He removed the cigar from his mouth and heedlessly stubbed it out on a silver tray nearby. "Go on," he invited gently. "And choose your words with care, Ross."

  "I told you Lawless Lily isn't the kind of woman a man keeps forever. It was a mistake to marry her, Alex. She'll make a fool

  of you. She's making a fool of you at this very moment."

  Alex regarded him with cold fury. He was going to beat Ross to a pulp for speaking of Lily so cuttingly, but first he had to find

  out what was going on. She might be in some kind of trouble. "Where is she?"

  "Hard to tell," Ross said with a slight shrug. "Just about now I would imagine she's found a private corner, to share a passionate embrace with an Italian good-for-naught masquerading as a count. Gavazzi was the name, I believe. Sound familiar to you?

  I didn't think so." Ross's confidence was shaken as Alex gave him a look so darkly promising that it could have come from the devil himself. Then Alex left with silent swiftness. Ross leaned back against the wall indolently and crossed his legs, assured

  once more that whatever he wanted in life would be his—as long as he had the patience to wait. "As I predicted," he murmured pragmatically, "I'll be the next to have her."

  "You'll never put an end to this, will you?" Lily railed in the privacy of a small upstairs parlor. "It will go on forever. I'll never

  have her back!"

  Giuseppe crooned softly, trying to pacify her.

  ''No, no, bellissima. It is over soon, very soon. I bring you Nicoletta. But first, you make me welcome to these peoples. You

  make me friends 'ere. This, this is what I work for all these years, to get the money for making me an important man in London."

  "I see," Lily said dazedly. "You weren't good enough for Italian society—Good God, you're a wanted criminal there—and so

  now you want a place here?" She stared at him in furious disgust. "I know how your mind works. You assume that you'll be

  able to marry some wealthy widow or some foolish young heiress and play lord of the manor for the rest of your life. Is that

  your plan? You want me to become your sponsor and gain you entree? And you think these people will accept you on my recommendation?" She exploded with a bitter, mocking laugh, and then fought to control herself. "My God, Giuseppe, I'm

  barely respectable. I don't have a thimbleful of influence!"

  "You are the countess of Wolverton," he said in a hard voice.

  "It's only out of respect for my husband that these people tolerate my presence!"

  "I tell you what I want," he said inflexibly. "Now you do it for me. Then I give you Nicoletta."

  Lily shook her head wildly. "Giuseppe, this is ridiculous," she burst out desperately. "Please, just give me my daughter. Even

  if I wanted to, I couldn't do anything for you. You aren't meant for the haul ton. You use people, and you have contempt for everyone—do you think they can't see it in your face? Don't you realize that they'll find out exactly what you are?"

  She started in repulsed shock as Giuseppe came to her, putting his wiry arms around her, the flowery musk of his cologne

  wafting in her face. He touched her chin with his hot, damp hand, and moved it to her throat. "Always you ask me, when do

  I bring back your baby, when do I make an end to this," he said silkily. "Now I tell you, it will end. But after you 'elp to make

  me part of this world."

  "No," she said, giving a disgusted sob as she felt his hand slide to her heaving breast.

  "Remember what we 'ave together?" he whispered, confident in his powers of seduction, his body becoming aroused against

  hers. "Remember the way I teach you love? The way we move together in the bed, the pleasure I bring to you as we make

  our beautiful baby—"

  "Please," she said in a strangled voice, straining away from him. "Let me go. My husband will come soon to find me. He has

  a jealous temper and he won't ..."

  Suddenly a terrible, agonizing coldness came over her. She stopped speaking and began to tremble. With slowly dawning

  horror she turned her head to find Alex in the doorway. He was staring at her in disbelief, his face stark white.

  Giuseppe followed Lily's unblinking gaze and made a slight exclamation of surprise. "Lord Raiford," he said smoothly, dropping

  his hands from Lily. "I t'ink you 'ave per'aps a little misunderstanding. I leave now, and allow your wife to make the explaining, si?" He winked surreptitiously and left with a smug smile, certain Lily would smooth everything over with a few glib, wifely

  lies. After all, she had a great deal to lose.

  Alex's gaze did not move from his wife. They were both silent, forming a frozen tableau in the midst of the elegant room.

  The laughter and music of the assembly floated up to them, but it might as well have been a universe away. Lily knew she

  should speak, move, do something that would take the dreadful expression from his face, but all she could seem t
o do was

  stand there and shiver.

  Finally he spoke. His voice was low and so raw that it was unrecognizable. "Why were you letting him hold you like that?"

  In a whirl of panic Lily tried to think of a lie, something that would convince him he was mistaken, some clever story. Once she might have been able to. But she had changed. All she could do was stand there stupidly. She knew exactly how a fox felt when

  it had been run to ground-stiff and cowering, waiting helplessly for the end to come.

  When she didn't answer, Alex spoke again, his face contorted. "You're having an affair with him."

  A trapped, terrified look came over Lily's features, and she stared at him mutely. Her silence was answer enough. With a

  hoarse sound of pain, Alex turned away from her. A moment later, she heard his ragged whisper. "You little whore."

  Lily's eyes brimmed with tears as she watched him stride to the door. She had lost him. Lady Lyon had been right . . . only death or betrayal could destroy him. Her secrets didn't matter now. Somehow she managed to croak his name pleadingly. "Alex."

  He stopped with his hand on the closed door, keeping his back to her. His shoulders lifted and fell rapidly, as if he were trying to master emotions too violent to contain.

  "Please stay," she said brokenly. "Please, let me tell you the truth." Unable to bear the sight of his still form, she half-turned, wrapping her arms around herself. She took a tormented breath. "His name is Giuseppe Gavazzi. I met him in Italy. We were lovers. Not recently . . . five years ago. He was the one I told you about." She bit her lip until it ached sharply. "It must disgust you, having seen that contemptible man and knowing that he and I ..." She broke off with a harsh sob. "It disgusts me. The experience was so dreadful that he wanted nothing more to do with me, nor I with him. I thought I was rid of him forever. But. . . that wasn't quite true. My life changed forever after that night, because I found out ... I found out ..." She shook her head impatiently at her own stammering cowardice, and she forced herself to continue. "I was pregnant." There was no sound from Alex. She was too afraid and ashamed to look at him. "I had a child. A daughter."

  "Nicole." His voice sounded thick and odd.

  "How did you know that?" she asked in dull amazement.

  "You spoke it in your sleep."

  "Of course." She smiled with self-derision, tears running down her face. "I seem to be quite active in my sleep."

  "Go on."

  Lily wiped at her cheeks with her sleeve, and steadied her voice. "For two years I lived with Nicole and Aunt Sally in Italy.

  I kept my baby a secret from everyone but Giuseppe. I thought he had a right to know, that he might take an interest in her. He didn't care, of course. He didn't come to see us. Sally died during that time, and all I had left was Nicole. Then one day I came back from the market, and ..." Her voice faltered. "She was gone. Giuseppe had taken her. I knew he had her, because later he brought me the dress she was wearing that day. He kept my baby in hiding and refused to give her back. He asked for money.

  It was never enough ... he wouldn't let me see her, and he kept demanding more. The authorities couldn't find her. Giuseppe

  was involved in other illegal activities, and he was forced to leave Italy to avoid prosecution. He told me he was bringing my daughter to London, and I followed him here. I hired a Learie officer to search for Nicole. All he managed to discover was

  that Giuseppe had become part of an organization, an underworld that has taken root in many countries."

  "Derek Craven knows about it," Alex said tonelessly.

  "Yes. He's tried to help me, but it's impossible. Giuseppe holds all the cards." She tried to get control over herself. "I've tried everything, I've done what he asked, but it goes on and on. Every night I wonder if Nicole is sick, if she's crying, if she needs

  me and I'm not there. If she's forgotten me." Her throat clenched in agony, and all she could force out was a whisper. "He showed Nicole to me just the other day ... I'm certain it was her . . . but he wouldn't let me touch her, or speak to her ... I don't think she recognized me." The words dried in her throat. Lily felt as if she would shatter at the slightest touch. She needed to be alone . . . she had never been so defenseless in her life. But as she managed to break her paralysis and step away, she felt his hands close over her upper arms. Suddenly she began to shudder with the force of incoherent sobs torn from deep within her. Swiftly he turned her, and held her against his broad chest as she crumpled against him, crying with wretched, uncontrollable gasps, with the force of emotions that had been pent up for years.

  Hot fears flooded from her eyes onto his shirt. Clutching at him, Lily crawled into his arms, the only safe haven in the world.

  She writhed frantically to get closer, but slowly she comprehended that there was no need to struggle, he was not going to let

  go of her. One of his hands cupped the back of her head, securing it against his shoulder. "It's all right, darling," he whispered, stroking her dark curls. "It's all right. You're not alone anymore."

  She tried to stifle the agonized sounds that seemed to be ripped from her throat, but the convulsive sobs wouldn't stop. "Easy,"

  he murmured in her hair, stroking her trembling body as she gave in to her shattering grief. "I understand now," he continued hoarsely, his own eyes stinging. "I understand everything." He would have willingly given his life to spare her such suffering.

  He kissed her hair, her wet face, the small hands that clung to his shoulders. Wishing fiercely that he could draw her pain into

  his own body, he held her hard against his sheltering strength. Finally she wilted against him, her tears abating. "We'll find out

  what happened to her," he said roughly. "We'll get her back, no matter what it takes. I swear it."

  "You should hate me," she said brokenly. "You should leave me—"

  "Hush." His grip tightened, just short of bruising her. "Do you think so little of me? Damn you." He crushed his lips in her hair. "You don't understand anything about me. Did you think I wouldn't want to help you? That I would abandon you if I knew?"

  "Yes," she whispered.

  "Damn you," he repeated, his voice choked with anger and love. He forced her face upward. The hopelessness in her eyes caused a cold pressure to squeeze around his heart.

  Alex summoned a servant to show him a way they could discreetly leave the house without being witnessed by the guests.

  He bid the same servant to give a message to Lady Lyon that Lily was ill with a headache and had left the ball precipitately. Leaving Lily alone to rest for a moment, Alex took a quick, determined tour through the Lyon mansion, but wisely Giuseppe

  had taken his leave.

  Lily was so drained that she was forced to lean on Alex as they left. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to their enclosed chariot, declining to give explanations to the surprised footmen. Once inside, he reached for her, but she warded him

  off gently, telling him in a queer voice that she was fine. They headed home at a rapid pace, while Alex struggled with overwhelming thoughts and emotions.

  It devastated him to know what Lily had gone through. She had chosen to endure it alone, she had chosen to withdraw and

  build up defenses on that foundation of secrets, she had willingly chosen every moment of solitude . . . but knowing all that

  didn't stop the grief he felt on her behalf. He couldn't give her back the years. He couldn't even be certain of giving her back Nicole, though he would move heaven and earth in the effort. Burning rage spread through him, as if it were seeping out from

  the marrow of his bones. He was angry at her, at Derek, at the damned useless detectives, at the Italian bastard who had

  caused such misery, and he was angry at himself.

  Another part of him was terrified. Lily had sustained her hope for so long ... if the source of it was taken away, if Nicole could

  not be returned to her, she would never be the same. The vi
brant laughter and passion that he loved might vanish for good. He

  had seen people lose what they loved most, and the way it had changed them. His own father had become an empty shell of a man, longing for death because life had lost all power to entice him. Alex wanted to beg Lily to be strong, but he could see that

  she had no more strength left. Her face was pinched and tired and her eyes were dull.

  They arrived in Swans' Court and Alex escorted Lily to the front door. Burton greeted them with instant concern, staring at

  Lily questioningly. He looked at Alex. "You've returned early, my lord," he remarked.

  Alex didn't have time to explain anything. He urged his wife forward. "Have her drink a glass of brandy," he told Burton curtly. "Force it down her throat if necessary. Don't let her go anywhere. Tell Mrs. Hodges to prepare her a bath. And have someone with her at every moment until I return. Every moment, do you understand?"

  "You needn't worry, my lord."

  Alex exchanged a glance with him and relaxed slightly, reassured by the butler's calmness. It moved Alex, the realization that Burton, in his own quiet way, had done his best to take care of Lily during the nightmare of the past two years.

  "Good God, there's no need to carry on," Lily said in a ghost of her usual pert voice, pushing past them into the house.