My Fair Lily

by Meara Platt

  Lily imagined he would look magnificent even if he were dressed in a burlap sack. The thought of running her hand along Ewan’s clean-shaven cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her palm, and the light roughness of his stubble after a morning’s shave... oh, dear! The room had suddenly grown unbearably hot.

  Eloise arched an eyebrow as Lily poured herself another glass of lemonade and gulped it down. “The pie was very salty,” she mumbled, pouring herself a second glass of the tart liquid and finishing that one off as well, though it did little to keep the heat from crawling up her cheeks. “Delicious pie... but salty.” Ewan would taste that good, she simply knew it, and could prove it if she ever got to lick his skin. Not that she would. Ever.

  Eloise rang for more lemonade and then turned to Lily and smirked. “You look like you could use another pitcher full.”

  “As I said, the salt.” She silently apologized to Eloise’s cook for the lie and drank some more. Good thing it was only lemonade and not wine or that insipid ratafia that proper young ladies were permitted to drink at Almack’s. Otherwise she’d be passed out on the floor, drooling and making a general spectacle of herself. “So, Meggie will have to learn to dance. What else?”

  “Meggie ought to learn the more popular card games and should have lessons on the order of precedence among the nobility. I would not like her to make a faux pas when introduced to some of my more elegant friends, though most would never pass an unkind remark. Will you teach her, Lily? She won’t be so scared if the lessons come from you.”

  “I’ll do my best, but do you think she can learn all of it in so short a time?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll soon find out. Ewan and Meggie are to pay a call on me this afternoon. You’ll stay, of course.”

  So Lily stayed, and tried to ignore the rampant butterfly flutters that sprang into her stomach the moment Ewan strode into the salon. And tried to brace herself when Jasper trotted in behind him, noticed her, and with a lovesick wroolf, wrooolf, leapt straight for her, knocking over Eloise’s precious teacups that—thank goodness—happened to be empty, for Watling had yet to bring in the afternoon tea and cakes. “Jasper, sit!” she cried at the same time Ewan called him a hairy wanker and lunged for him to keep his woolly beast from knocking her over yet again.

  But Jasper surprised them all by obeying her command, which caused a different sort of chaos when he stopped himself in mid-leap, his paws clawing the air to slow himself down, and landed with a gentle thud at her feet, his head held high with obedient pride. Ewan, who was himself in mid lunge, arms extended, and hands now aimed straight for her breasts, tripped over the beast.

  “Bollix,” he said in a choked breath, immediately drawing his hands in and twisting his shoulders to alter his trajectory so that he’d hit the floor and not her, obviously preferring to land badly rather than take her down with him.

  Lily watched in horror as Newton’s laws on bodies in motion and forces of gravity unfolded before her. She cringed at the outcome. It would not be pretty. “Ewan, look out!” she cried, fascinated by the glorious motion of his big, male body crashing against the stiff arm of the sofa, then rolling off the overstuffed sofa cushions onto the floor where his body wedged between her legs and the tea table.

  “Bloody looby,” he muttered, the breath clearly knocked out of him.

  “Are you all right?” Lily reached out to help him up, but as she bent down, Jasper mistook it for a game and gently pushed her. “Jasper!” She fell atop Ewan, her knees landing squarely on his stomach and her hands on his chest. Big, solid chest. “Oh, dear! I’m so sorry.”

  Ewan caught her by the waist to steady her atop him, which seemed a Ewan thing to do, for he was always protectively considerate of her. His grip was firm, yet gentle, as she tried to slide off him, actually tried to slide down his body. She didn’t get very far because Jasper was still at their feet, his enormous, shaggy body blocking her way as he sat obediently, refusing to budge.

  Ewan let out a sharp, laughing gasp as she started to move back up his body. “Better no’, lass. That isn’t going to work.”

  “Well, I... I could—”

  He began to laugh in earnest, a glorious, deep rumble that she found irresistible. No longer able to stifle the urge bubbling inside of her, she simply gave in and began to laugh as well. They were well and truly wedged, and had no delicate way out of this situation.

  She was practically atop Ewan.

  Meggie and Eloise were gaping at them, seemingly unable to move, or afraid to move for fear of worsening the situation.

  Then Jasper pushed her, and suddenly, she was atop Ewan.

  Her legs tangled between his thighs.

  Her breasts intimately pressed against his chest. And loving it. Not that her breasts had a mind of their own. They didn’t. Though if breasts could ever be happy, hers were.

  Jasper, enjoying what he thought was a game, jumped atop her.

  Ewan let out a groan that seemed to rise from the depths of his soul. “Lass, I’m... och, Jasper, ye looby! Ye’re killing me.”

  Lily knew she’d struck his ribs with her sharp elbow and struck other parts of him that should not be mentioned. “I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?”

  He seemed to have trouble breathing. Oh, dear! Was he in that much pain? No, he was laughing. Why was he still laughing? He enveloped her in his magnificently muscled arms and used his booted foot to gently shove Jasper off her. “No, lass. Are you?”

  She wasn’t feeling any discomfort. Quite the opposite, she felt quite light and deliciously boneless. “I feel perfect.”

  “Lass... I’m... bollix.” He lifted her off him with the speed of a hummingbird’s wings and half tossed, half deposited her on the soft sofa cushions. Then he grunted to his feet beside her, still breathing unsteadily as he ran a hand through his hair. He gazed at her with an odd expression on his face. She couldn’t quite decipher it. Perhaps confusion. Or was it unbridled horror?

  “No harm done, Mr. Cameron. My gown may be a bit rumpled, but it remains intact.”

  “It isn’t the frock I was worried about.” He stared down at her, his eyes dark and roiling with sensations she still didn’t understand.

  She smiled and slowly rose to face him. “It strikes me, Mr. Cameron, that you and I must work on our introductions. Every time we meet, someone ends up flat on their back. Usually me. Fortunately, this time it was you. I think it would have been a lot messier had you fallen atop me, your weight on my body.”

  Your glorious, crushing weight.

  As she thought about it, her cheeks began to flame. Discomfort always made her sputter and ramble. “And speaking of weights and bodies,” she said, pausing to sputter and let out a nervous titter. Stop talking! Of course, she couldn’t. Another titter. Another sputter. “It brings to mind one of Galileo’s experiments. Quite fascinating. Did you know he climbed to the top of the Tower of Pisa with a pair of heavy balls, and when he reached the top he dropped his balls—”

  “Lily!” Eloise let out a burst of laughter, reminding her that she and Ewan were not alone. “Child, how you do go on!”

  Of course. She was rambling and making a fool of herself, something that couldn’t be helped while Ewan held her in his arms. How did she get back in his arms? No matter. She wasn’t complaining. He was silently laughing. About to explode with laughter. She could feel his shoulders shake beneath her palms. “Well, you get the point. No need for me to go on.”

  There was nothing funny about Galileo’s experiment. It proved an important point about the laws of gravity, but it was no use continuing the explanation. “Obviously, no one appreciates Galileo’s balls.”

  Ewan opened his mouth to say something, glanced at Eloise, and then changed his mind and snapped it shut. He removed his hands from her waist and took a step back, this time careful to avoid Jasper, who was still underfoot, his tail wagging and tongue hanging out of his mouth as he joyfully panted, so proud that he’d obeyed her command to sit. “Your days are num
bered,” Ewan said, scowling at the dog.

  Jasper scrambled to his feet, scurried over to Ewan, and began to lick his hand. Ewan sighed and patted him affectionately on the head.

  “Well, that was most extraordinary,” Eloise said. She turned to Ewan’s stricken sister. “See, Meggie, even your perfect brother can make a complete ass of himself. You will notice that the sky hasn’t fallen. The walls haven’t crumbled down around us.”

  Meggie, her lips now quivering, glanced at Eloise and promptly burst into tears.

  Lily sighed. She had her work cut out with the girl.

  ***

  After calming Meggie and righting Eloise’s elegant tea cups—which had been tipped over but not chipped or broken in the debacle—Ewan managed to settle down with the ladies to afternoon tea and a discussion about what was needed to make Meggie’s stay in London pleasant. He didn’t think anything would help, but Eloise and Lily were game to try and he was grateful for their assistance.

  Conversation flowed smoothly, though he participated very little. His thoughts were still on Lily and the way she’d fit so perfectly against his hard frame. She’d been atop him. Soft, warm, the look in her eyes warning that she’d be willing to let him do anything to her that he wished. He’d wanted to kiss her beautiful lips for starters, then kiss his way down to her lush, perfect breasts... and further down to taste the heat between her thighs.

  Bollix!

  Eloise would bludgeon him with that cake knife now in her hands if she knew the manner of his thoughts. Damn. The wily old dowager probably knew exactly what he was thinking. He braced himself for the private conversation between them that was sure to follow, Eloise eager to lecture him about his marital status and the need to find himself a proper wife.

  He wasn’t looking for a wife. Wasn’t going to happen. Not while he was in London fulfilling that damnable promise to his father. He needed to pay full attention to his malicious, manipulative grandfather, and he didn’t need a female to distract him.

  Especially one as distracting as Lily.

  Problem was, almost an hour had passed since he and Lily had been lying on the elegantly carpeted floor with their bodies plastered to each other and their limbs entwined. He had yet to calm his body down. Damned traitorous thing was a man’s body.

  Eloise interrupted his thoughts by calling for her writing paper and pen. “Now, let’s get down to business,” she said, dipping her quill into the ink pot also provided by the ever-efficient Watling. “Meggie, can you sing?”

  “No.”

  “Play an instrument?”

  “The flute.”

  Eloise nodded. “That’ll have to do. Can you sew? Knit? Embroider? Paint?”

  “No, no, no, and no.”

  Ewan saw the panic in Meggie’s eyes and knew by the quiver in her lips that she was about to cry again. He didn’t know what to say or do, but in the next moment he realized he didn’t have to say or do anything. Lily had all under control. “Neither can I, Meggie,” she said with genuine warmth. “In truth, I’m sorely lacking in almost every talent. I sing like a bullfrog and dance with the grace of a walrus.”

  “I doubt that,” Ewan said softly, which caused her to blush. Damn, had he said that aloud?

  Meggie glanced at him, then at Lily, and smiled.

  Eloise saved his sorry self by moving on to topics of more general interest while desserts were served. “Mr. Cameron,” Lily started, but he cut her short.

  “About that, lass. I’m Ewan. Plain and simple. Ye needn’t be so formal.”

  “Yes, but what I meant to say is that you’re a lord and I should actually be calling you by your proper title, Lord Carnach, and not—”

  “A title’s just a title. What’s important is the man who fills it.”

  “Precisely my point. You fill it quite well,” she said with a blush, certainly revealing more than she intended through her innocent blue eyes, “yet you’ve never corrected my mistake. In truth, you don’t seem to like your title.”

  He sighed. “It’s being in London that I dislike. In Scotland I’m Lord Carnach... or Laird Carnach to most Highlanders, and I don’t mind at all. But here it all sounds so pompous, so condescending to those who are not as fortunate in the circumstances of their birth. That’s all it is, the luck of the bloodstock. No valor or brilliance on my part. So call me Ewan, lass. Or Mr. Cameron. But I prefer Ewan with you. Especially since we have so much in common.”

  She tipped her head and studied him. “What do we have in common?”

  He glanced at Jasper. The great, foolish beastie instantly perked up and wagged his tail. “We’ve both landed on our backs thanks to him.”

  She laughed, a gentle laugh that reminded him of warm summers and lush, green meadows. “Of course. That dangerous fiend who tries to slather my face with his ridiculously wet tongue each time we meet. How is it possible for a dog to generate so much liquid?”

  Ewan couldn’t answer, for his brain had frozen at the mention of slathering and tongue and all he could think of was licking his tongue down Lily’s body and making her ridiculously wet... and hot... for him.

  He was as big a looby as his dog. A bigger looby, if that were possible. Jasper’s affection for Lily was pure and innocent. His was just hot and wicked.

  Lily pursed her lips adorably, unaware of the depraved thoughts rolling around in the mind he’d obviously lost. “Ewan,” she said with a nod, gracing him with a smile that set him on fire. The lass was dangerous, had a way of turning him inside out with a mere glance of her warm and vibrant eyes.

  “Dogs have wet tongues. Particularly Jasper’s breed.” His voice was little more than a strangled rasp as he struggled to fashion a response, though none of the ladies appeared to notice the extent of his discomfort. Eloise was busily scribbling something on her paper, and Meggie was busy looking down at her toes as she’d done for most of this hour.

  Lily noticed his sister’s shyness as well. “Meggie, have you any other relations in town?” she cheerfully blurted, unaware of what she had just asked. “Cousins? Uncles? Family who will receive you and Ewan?”

  Meggie’s gaze shot up and exchanged tense glances with him. “We do have some.”

  “Hush, Meg. They’ll no’ be helpful.”

  Lily frowned. “What makes you think they won’t cooperate?”

  “I just know. Leave it at that.” He was no longer smiling, for the last thing he wished to discuss was the Cameron family animosities.

  “Surely, once they meet Meggie—”

  “Leave it alone, lass,” he said more sternly, though he understood the reason for Lily’s persistence. She came from a big, loving family. He came from a pit of vipers.

  “Would you kindly explain why?”

  “I’d rather no’.”

  He could practically hear her teeth grind in frustration, her agile mind attempting to get at the truth, wanting to help overcome Meggie’s fear and shyness, turn her into the engaging young lady Ewan knew she could be, one with the confidence to handle those unfriendly relatives if they chose to poison her time in London. “Ewan, what’s going on? I need to know.”

  “No, you do no’.”

  Unfortunately, Meggie thought otherwise. “They want Ewan dead.”

  CHAPTER 6

  “WHY DOES EWAN’S FAMILY want him dead?” Lily asked Eloise, once more alone with her now that Ewan and Meggie had departed. Eloise, who usually adored gossip, chose precisely that moment to repent her ways and embrace discretion. Imagine! Lily’s trusted informant regarding all things scandalous declined to discuss the reason, advising that it wasn’t her place to say and Lily should ask Ewan. Had the world just been tipped on its end?

  Honestly, discretion was highly overrated.

  And she had asked Ewan, tried in every way to pry the information out of him. He was like the granite rock on a cliff face. Hard, sharp. Impenetrable. She wouldn’t get anything out of him. Not ever. She’d seen his dark expression and practically felt that wall of pri
vacy build around him, stone by stone. Well, if he wouldn’t talk to her, that left only Meggie, assuming her brother hadn’t forced her to take a blood oath of silence.

  Of course, she knew that he had.

  Or if he hadn’t yet, he would before her next outing with Meggie.

  Which was why Lily was still a little peeved when another box arrived for her the following morning. A very large box.

  Lily had no intention of accepting it, but Dillie grabbed it out of their butler’s hands as he was about to set it on the entry hall table and raced off with it before Lily could refuse the delivery.

  Pruitt, their stoic butler, arched a bored eyebrow. He’d been with the family too long to be surprised by Dillie’s antics. “Seems your sister has left you with no choice.”

  Lily nodded. “Does anyone else know about the box?”

  “Not yet. I suggest you find your sister before she lets the cat out of the bag.”

  “Of course. You’re right. Please don’t tell anyone yet, Pruitt.”

  His eyes twinkled. “Tell anyone about what?

  She gave him a quick hug. “Thank you.”

  She hurried upstairs, knowing she’d find her sister waiting in their shared quarters. As expected, Dillie was sitting on her bed, the box beside her. She was strumming her fingers impatiently across the top.

  Lily shut their door and turned to scowl at her sister.

  “Took you long enough,” Dillie muttered. “Go ahead, open it.”

  “No. I know what’s inside.”

  “Come on. You know you want to. Well, I’m going to have a look.”

  “Don’t you dare! It’s my—”

  But she was too late. Dillie had already lifted the cover. “Oh, my!” She shook out an exact replica of the riding habit Jasper had ruined. “Madame de Bressard must have charged him a king’s ransom. Oh, Lily,” she said with a bubble of laughter, “you’re going to bankrupt the poor man.”

  “I’ll do nothing of the sort. He can afford it.” Still, she couldn’t take her gaze off the shimmering black velvet.