“You say the girl responds to your touch,” Rhys continued. “This seems like a way to have what you want without ruining your future, or making hers unbearable.”
Simon moved to the window and stared out into the night. He wanted his friend’s words to be distasteful, but in reality they made sense. It was one solution to his current problem. And perhaps Rhys was correct. Perhaps this was a better answer for both him and Lillian. Certainly the idea of having her, pleasing her, was far from distasteful. In fact, it made his cock ache.
But that wasn’t the kind of gentleman he was. In the end, he had been raised with too many scruples.
“She is a lady,” he murmured. “No matter the other circumstances of her life. I cannot do such a thing, Rhys. Even if what you say is true, that we could not happily be together in any other way, I couldn’t ask her to lower herself in such a fashion.”
Rhys dipped his chin, but did not seem to be surprised. “If I overstepped with my suggestion, I apologize.”
“No apologies,” Simon said, still staring at the darkness outside and wishing he could stop thinking about Lillian Mayhew as his lover.
“You know I only have your best interests at heart.” Rhys sighed. “I hate to see you pacing the boards long into the night, worrying yourself about a girl.”
Simon turned and speared his friend with a look. He was just as happy to escape the awkward subject of his love life and move on to something he felt comfortable hearing Rhys’s opinion about.
“Actually, it is more than the girl that has me pacing the boards.”
His friend’s eyebrows lifted, and there must have been something in Simon’s expression that said this was a deeper conversation, for Rhys sank down into the chair across from Simon’s desk. He dug around in the piles of paperwork for the cigar box Simon’s father had buried there. He removed two and held one out to Simon.
With a sigh, Simon took it and returned to his place at the desk.
“So tell me what troubles you,” Rhys asked as he lit the cigar.
Simon motioned around the room. “This duty, this place. This title and all that comes with it. Being here makes my father all the larger and his legacy all the greater.”
Rhys nodded, and Simon knew his friend understood him perfectly. It had been only a few years since Rhys inherited his own dukedom. The transition hadn’t been easy for him, either.
Simon sighed. “Not to mention the chore of going through my father’s things. He kept such detailed and mishandled records that they overwhelm. I have much to sort through and collect before I leave here for London. And with this blasted house party, I must steal time when I can.”
Rhys looked around the cluttered office with a wince. “Yes. It is quite a substantial undertaking. But if I can help, I’ll do all I can. On either this score…or with Miss Mayhew.”
Simon smiled at the honesty in his friend’s tone. In the end, Rhys’s pretentiousness only stretched so far. Simon had no doubt his friend would stand beside him, whatever he decided to do.
“Thank you, Rhys. I realize how much it pains you to make me that offer.”
“Eh,” his friend said as he ground out the stub of his cigar in an ashtray and moved it far from the old paperwork. “In the end, who you chase after is your business.”
Simon nodded. His friend was being lighthearted about the subject now, but they both knew he had given Simon much to think about.
“What say you to a game of billiards before we turn in?”
Rhys shoved to his feet with a wide grin. “Now that is the best idea I think you’ve had yet.”
But as Simon followed his friend from the room, he couldn’t pretend that the image of Lillian in his bed, as his mistress, wasn’t a powerful one. Even though he knew it was impossible, it was one that would keep him awake long after he finally returned to his chamber that night.
“But you have been kissed before!”Lillian flinched as she sank into the soft upholstered cushion of the chair before the dressing table in the chamber she shared with Gabby. Her friend was only trying to help, but this conversation, which had started the night before and picked up immediately upon her friend’s waking this morning, did nothing to ease Lillian’s shaken nerves.
“I’m not sure that is the point,” Lillian said as she let out a great yawn.
She couldn’t help but steal a quick glance at herself in the mirror above the dressing table. She stifled a sigh at the sight. Her gown was perfectly fine, and the pretty way Maggie had arranged her hair earlier in the morning was more than acceptable. But if anyone looked at her, they would certainly see her exhaustion. The proof that she had not slept all night, simply tossed and turned as she relived that kiss over and over, was written in the shadows beneath her eyes.
As soon as Simon saw her, he would recognize that fact. More to the point, he would know why she lay in her bed without the pleasure of sleep. What a triumph that would be to him.
“What is the point?” Gabby said with a sigh. “If it isn’t the kiss itself, tell me exactly what is troubling you.”
Lillian covered her eyes briefly. “Of course the entire act of the kiss is troubling. After all, it would be terrible for my reputation had we been caught. Well-bred young ladies simply do not do such things.”
Gabby rolled her eyes ever so slightly, but wisely chose not to interrupt.
“And yet the trouble is that I…” Lillian hesitated before she continued, for the confession she was about to make was a terrifying one. Once she spoke the words out loud, she could never take them back. “I shouldn’t have liked it. It shouldn’t have felt so good.”
Gabby’s expression softened as she crossed the room and laid a gentle hand of comfort on Lillian’s shoulder. In the mirror, her friend smiled at her. “Because of who he is?”
Lillian nodded. “Because of who his father was, that is for certain. And because of what I am sworn to do by revealing the late duke for the charlatan he was. Not to mention the fact that I cannot truly be certain of Simon’s intentions.”
She said the last sentence slowly, hating the bitter taste it left in her mouth.
Gabby frowned. “You have said so before, but I don’t know if that is fair, Lillian. So far Simon has given you no reason to believe he is a philanderer. What would he have to gain when there are other women here who would be far less resistant to his attentions?”
Lillian bit her lip, trying to push away the swell of hope that arose in her when she considered that Simon might truly like her as he claimed. She didn’t want that, damn it!
“You’re correct. But that doesn’t change the fact that I shouldn’t have wanted the kiss. I shouldn’t have wanted Simon.”
“And yet you do.”
Lillian glared at Gabby as she rose from the chair and paced away from her. “No, I did. Not anymore. Not again.”
“Oh?” Gabby laughed, but there was no malice to the sound. “Then why do you keep touching your lips and blushing?”
Lillian swallowed hard. She hadn’t realized she was doing such a thing. Those little nervous habits were telling. As was the fact that her heart rate rose whenever she pictured Simon’s handsome face moving in closer in the seconds before the kiss. Even now, she let out a great shiver at the memory.
“Very well,” she admitted. “Despite my best intentions, I-I am attracted to him, Gabby. I want him in a way I have never felt before with any other man in all the years I’ve been out in Society. But this is the one man I can never have.”
Her friend looked at her, and the humor she had seemed to be having at Lillian’s expense faded to a solemn frown.
Lillian sighed. “So explain to me what am I supposed to do now?”
“I don’t know. I wish I did,” Gabby whispered.
“So do I.” Lillian moved for the door. “So do I.”
The breakfast spread laid out by the staff at the Billingham country estate was legendary, with every delight one could imagine piled high in chafing dishes on the sideboard. An
d yet normally Simon skipped the over abundance of food during these country events, opting instead for plainer fare taken in his rooms while he gathered himself for the day.Only this particular morning he found himself in the thick of the milling guests, watching as they served themselves and gathered at tables scattered around the room to talk and stare at him. The attentions of the women reminded him why he normally skipped such events, and yet he forced a smile on his face.
It was all worth it because he was waiting. Waiting for Lillian. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since he last saw her, since that powerful kiss on the terrace. And despite the fact that it wasn’t possible, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Rhys’s suggestion that Simon make her his lover.
In fact, he’d had some very detailed dreams about that subject in the few hours he had slept. Dreams where Lillian slipped between his sheets, her cool, naked skin pressed to his. Dreams where her honey blond hair wrapped around his fingers, tickled his chest, curled about the thick length of his cock just as her lips did.
He started as blood and heat rushed to the organ. That would not do in the slightest. He had to stop thinking about those sorts of things. Except at that very moment, Lillian stepped through the door on the arm of her friend Lady Gabriela.
Although the younger woman was dressed far more extravagantly, and might even be considered more traditionally pretty, Simon couldn’t stop looking at Lillian. He memorized the lines of her face as she glanced about the room slowly.
Her stare finally fell on him and they merely looked at each other for a long, charged moment. Then her friend whispered something to her and Lillian blushed a deep, fetching pink as she turned away and made for the sideboard.
He watched as she put food on her plate in a haphazard fashion, hardly looking at what she chose. Once she had taken a place at the table farthest from his, he got up and moved toward her. He was painfully aware that every eye in the room followed him, and from the ramrod-straight position Lillian held herself in, she noticed that as well.
“Good morning, Miss Mayhew,” he said as he stopped beside her. “May I join you?”
He watched as she scanned the room for her friend, but Lady Gabriela had not been as quick to get her food, and since she saw Simon standing with Lillian, the other girl had chosen a different table to sit at. Lillian scowled, and he thought he heard her mutter something akin to “traitor” under her breath before she nodded.
“Of course, Your Grace. This is your home, after all.” She motioned to the chair across from her, but he took the one beside her instead.
“You seem uncomfortable,” he said with a small smile.
She blushed deeply and his smile turned to a grin. It was actually fun to bait her a bit.
“Of course not,” she said, but her words were belied by the way she squeezed them past clenched teeth.
He nodded and pretended to be thoughtful for a moment. “Good. I thought perhaps you would want to talk about what happened last night.”
“Please mind your tone.” Her gaze darted around the room briefly to see if anyone had heard his low statement. When it was apparent the others were watching, but unable to hear, she whispered, “It should not have happened.”
He shrugged. She could say that all she liked, but he hadn’t missed the fact that she kept glancing at his mouth. Whether she wished to admit it or not, she had wanted that kiss and she wanted another.
“Perhaps that is true,” he said. “I suppose ‘propriety’ dictates that we should not have kissed.”
“Quite so, Your Grace. I am happy you see it from that perspective.” And yet she did not look particularly happy as she moved her food around her plate with her fork.
Simon leaned a touch closer. “But I would be lying if I did not admit that I wish it would happen a second time.”
Lillian’s fork clattered against the edge of her plate as she turned to face him full-on. Her eyes were wide and filled with disbelief that made Simon’s heart ache a fraction. Had she been so shunned that she couldn’t believe a man could find her attractive?
How he wished he could prove otherwise to her. Protect her, though that desire was so strange to him since he hardly knew her. But he wanted to know her. Even if it ended up coming to nothing at all, he still wanted that.
“Would you meet me later in the library?” he found himself whispering.
There was a long pause before she shook her head as if waking from a dream or a spell.
“No,” she whispered, though there was little conviction to her refusal. “I-I cannot.”
Despite her rejection, he smiled. It was evident she only said no because she felt it was her duty to do so. With a little work, he was certain she would eventually say yes.
“I certainly understand that you are afraid,” he said as he got to his feet. He almost laughed when her lips parted in silent outrage at his accusation that she was a coward. “If you change your mind, I shall be there after tea. Good morning, Miss Mayhew.”
Then he turned on his heel and left her gaping after him.
Chapter 8
Lillian stirred her tea absently as she stared at Gabby with what she knew were wild eyes. For the past few hours, she had gone through the motions of a polite guest. She had participated, rather poorly, in a game of whist. She had engaged in conversation with the Countess of Hephshire about the merits of silk versus satin and what colors would be the rage this Season.
She had even managed to endure a walk about the gardens with Ladies Portia and Penelope, the twin daughters of the Marquis Drisedale, who had been determined to talk about Simon as much as possible.But none of those activities had kept her from constant thoughts of Simon’s invitation to join him in the library after tea. The faster the tea and biscuits disappeared, the more nervous and uncertain Lillian became about her refusal to do just that.
“You must stop fidgeting, Lillian,” Gabby said softly. “You are drawing even more notice to yourself than Simon has with his attentions.”
Lillian forced her foot to stop bouncing beneath her skirt and drew a long breath.
“You know, when I heard you had been invited to Simon’s home, when I realized that by joining you I could possibly make a search of this place and find evidence regarding his late father, I thought I had planned for every contingency,” she whispered. “But I was wrong, Gabby. I never thought Simon Crathorne would turn toward me in such an obvious fashion. Or that he would make overtures to court me!”
“I don’t know why you doubt yourself,” her friend said quietly. “You are a very pretty young woman, not to mention clever. Men are drawn to you.”
“And most of them turn away the moment they hear the rumors surrounding my mother,” she said with a bitter edge to her voice. “And yet Simon remains undeterred. His continued pursuit has stopped any chance I had at completing my purpose for coming here. What do I do?”
Gabby pursed her lips. “I suppose that depends on how far you’re willing to go to prove the late duke was not what his public persona implied.”
Lillian thought of that statement for a moment. Her father’s dying words rang in her ears. Meant for her or not, they had been filled with such pain and regret that he had not avenged her mother’s attack. He wanted retribution, but she couldn’t trust Jack to do it. Her brother had already lost the chance to confront Roger Crathorne directly by waiting until the old man was dead. By the time Jack left the hazy numbness alcohol provided, it was likely there would be nothing of value he could do.
But Lillian was here. She could find the secrets and make them public. Now when it would still matter, before Crathorne became a distant memory and no one cared anymore.
Her mother’s fragile spirit had been destroyed by the late duke. She deserved the revenge no one had given her.
“I have no choice. I must go as far as I can,” she finally said, with a strange sense of dread filling her.
Gabby’s face crumpled, but then she whispered, “Then you must go to him.”
“What?” Lillian burst out, far louder than she had intended to speak. Instantly, a handful of heads swiveled in their direction. Some looked in interest, others with contempt. Flushing, Lillian corrected her tone. “Why do you say such a thing?”
Gabby covered her hand. “You shall not have a second chance to come to this place. Lady Billingham will never allow it if her discussion with you at the welcome ball is any indication.”
Lillian clenched her fists at the memory, but Gabby was right. Last night the dowager had made it clear she would do everything in her power to prevent Lillian from ever stepping foot in her home or near her son again.
Gabby continued, “If that is true you’ll never again have the ability to search here after you are gone. As cold as it may seem and as much as I hate to encourage such behavior, using this situation, this attraction and interest Simon has in you, well, it could be the best way to get closer to the truth.”
“Because of what we spoke of earlier,” Lillian said, her voice dull and flat. “You continue to believe Simon might let something slip about his father. Or accidentally tell me where and how to best search for secrets.”
Gabby nodded slowly. “Yes.”
Lillian covered her eyes. Her stomach felt sick as she whispered, “I don’t want to be that person. To be so cold as to use someone’s affections against them.”
“You are trying to prove that a man was the worst kind of predator and liar,” Gabby said softly. “I’m not sure you can do that without losing part of your own soul, which was why I hesitated to help you with this in the first place.”
Lillian looked at her friend evenly. Although Gabby was younger, she was wise. What she said made sense.
“Then I suppose I must truly dedicate myself one way or another to a course of action,” she said, straightening up. “No more dithering about right and wrong.”
Gabby nodded. “You must. But do it quickly. I believe the duke is waiting.”
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