He watched her, advancing toward him, looking like a siren who’d just emerged from the sea. His mind traced back to a night five years ago, another ball, another balcony, with the same beautiful young woman.
Lily’s debut. Devon had come that night because his father had forced him to. Back when he gave a damn what his father wanted. It had all been a farce, really. Devon might have had an illustrious title, but it was well-known even then among the ton that the Colton coffers were completely empty. A title without a fortune might be appealing to an heiress or those who smelled of shop, but a gently reared English girl from a good family would much prefer a title and a fortune if given the choice. True, he’d had a variety of flirtations, and an indecent number of offers to spend the night in the beds of Society’s most beautiful married women, but the young ladies’ parents and chaperones made it their business to keep their sheltered little innocents away from him. A destitute marquis was no one’s first choice.
He’d been there that night, halfheartedly attempting to talk Ashbourne out of his obsession with a blond named Georgiana, and counting the moments before he could leave and go to his club, when Lily had sauntered past.
He’d looked twice. Something he rarely did. He’d nearly groaned when he realized her white gown and hovering mother marked her as an innocent. But he’d been unable to resist and had asked her to dance, ignoring the scowl on her mother’s face. And he hadn’t regretted asking her to dance.
Lily had been just as engaging as she was beautiful, something else he hadn’t expected. He’d danced with her twice, unable to help himself, but then he’d left her alone. A third dance with him would do nothing for her reputation and he could not have such an innocent. Even if he had lost his mind and proposed marriage, her mother would have had none of it, the look of disapproval on that woman’s face had been evident.
Later that night, he’d been smoking a cheroot out in the garden when a musical voice behind him made him turn. “No more dancing for you this evening, Lord Colton?”
He’d immediately stomped out the cheroot and turned to face her, a wide smile on his face. “I’m afraid not, Miss Andrews.”
A slight frown had marred the porcelain skin of her forehead. “I’m very sorry to hear that.”
“I assure you, you’ll have no trouble finding other gentlemen to dance with.”
She’d nodded matter-of-factly, and Devon had smothered his smile. There was something so straightforward about the girl. Not vain. Just confident and unpretentious. And beautiful.
She sighed. “I’m afraid none of them are such lovely dancers as you.”
He’d laughed. “Ah, my mother would be pleased to hear it. She forced me to take dancing lessons for an indecent period of time. Seems her diligence has been rewarded.”
Lily laughed then and the tinkling sound filled Devon’s mind. He never wanted to be out of her company.
“Being that you’re such a lovely dancer, won’t you come back in and dance with me once more, my lord?”
Devon couldn’t help but smile. “Where is your mother?”
Her eyes widened. “Inside. Why?”
“She doesn’t know you’re out here, does she?”
A sly smile flashed across her lovely face. She shook her head. “No.”
Devon took a deep breath. This wouldn’t be pleasant, but it was necessary. He couldn’t allow an uninformed innocent to continue her flirtation with him. Damn it, he detested his father for forcing him to attend such events. “The fact is, Miss Andrews, your mother wouldn’t want you out here with me.”
“Oh, come now. It’s not that scandalous, being alone with a gentleman on a balcony.”
“With me, it is.”
Her brow furrowed again. “Why? Have you done something horrendous, Lord Colton?” She smiled at him, a smile he wanted to remember forever.
He nodded. “Yes.”
Her smile disappeared, replaced by a look of curiosity. “What?”
He shrugged. “As far as the ton is concerned, I’ve done the most horrible thing there is.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand. You’re the heir to the Marquis of Colton, are you not?”
He placed a hand on the stone statue next to him. “Yes.”
“Then what could you possibly have done to fall out of favor with Society?”
He laughed. “You don’t know much about Society, do you?”
She looked confused and he regretted that. “No,” she admitted. “I’ve only just had my debut.”
Devon winced. “I’m sorry to inform you, Miss Andrews, that I am poor. Not just poor, destitute. My father and I live on credit and little else. That is the sin for which Society can never forgive me.”
Surprisingly, Lily’s face had blossomed into a wide smile. “Is that all? I thought you’d done something truly horrific like got a divorce or made an indecent overture to Princess Charlotte.”
He swallowed his laugh. The girl was irreverent. He liked that about her. He liked it very much. “You’re not horrified?”
She shook her head. “Not a bit. Money’s never meant anything to me.”
His smile had been ironic. “I can assure you, your mother feels quite differently.”
Lily shrugged. “My mother doesn’t believe in love.”
Love. The word had caught him unawares. It had tugged at his conscience and his heart. “Love?”
“Yes, when I fall in love it won’t have anything whatsoever to do with money,” she’d assured him. “Character is much more important than money can ever be.”
She’d said the words so easily and Devon knew without a doubt she meant them. He’d been drawn to her before, her beauty, her laughter, her spark. But here was a real gem, a gorgeous young woman without the preconceived notions of her snobbish family. Without the drilled-in beliefs of the ton in her brain. A true original.
She’d smiled at him, an impish smile, and Devon hadn’t been able to keep from smiling back.
“So?” she asked. “Won’t you dance with me?”
And they had danced again, there in the gardens, to the strains of a waltz drifting through the French doors. And that’s when Devon had fallen in love with her. She was everything he’d ever hoped for and never believed he could find.
Yes, she’d made him believe again. Believe in everything including … love. That is, until he’d received her note.
But that had all been five years ago. An age. And now, here she was, talking about seducing him. He shook his head.
“Lily, for the love of God, what are you talking about?” His voice shook with desire.
“Oh, I’ll get to that in a moment, my lord,” Lily said, draining the rest of Devon’s champagne glass before abandoning it on the side of the stone balcony. “First, there is another secret I have to tell.”
She turned to him, her eyes flashing, and advanced on him again.
He swallowed. “What’s that?”
“Scared, are you?”
“I have no idea what you’ll say from one minute to the next tonight.”
“Good. You need to be kept guessing. Miss Templeton would never keep you guessing.”
“Now you’re speaking in riddles.”
“It’s time for some honesty.” Lily slid her hand down his chest. “Between you and me.”
Devon leaned back against the balcony, resting his elbows on it. Hmm. With that look in her eye, it might be best to give her some space. “Perfect. I’m more than ready for honesty.”
Lily swung around, her back to the French doors. “Are you quite sure you’re ready for the truth, Lord Colton?”
“Absolutely.” His dark eyes searched her face.
Her voice lowered. Her breathing hitched. “I was in love with you five years ago. I was in love with you, madly, idiotically in love with you, and my heart was broken when you took off for the countryside. In fact”—she stumbled slightly, her slipper catching on one of the stones—“you’ll never believe it.”
Dev
on reached for her to ensure she didn’t fall. He searched her face, watching her carefully, alertly. His eyes were wide, his breathing heavy. “Lily, what are you talking about?”
“I had packed my bags to elope with you. That’s what kind of a fool I was!” She laughed a loud clap of a laugh, but it was entirely without humor.
She pushed his hands away and turned again, another stumble. Her eyes flashed with a violet violence that frightened him. God, she was inebriated. So inebriated that she was reinventing the past. They both knew she’d sent him a letter that night, telling him she’d decided to marry Merrill. Devon reached for her again, but she pulled away.
“Leave me be,” she commanded.
He stepped back.
She laughed, a sultry laugh, shaking off all seriousness and reverie. She advanced on him again, this time with fire in her eyes. “I’ve decided you owe me a wedding night, my lord. And I intend to have it. I’ll see you in your bedchamber upstairs,” she whispered against his mouth. “In one hour.”
CHAPTER 22
Lily slipped back through the French doors that led into the ballroom. She nearly stumbled over Annie, who was standing there with a surprised look on her face. Lily smiled broadly and looped her arm through her sister’s.
“What are you doing here?” she asked in a conspiratorial whisper.
“Looking for you,” Annie replied, an inscrutable expression on her face.
“I was just outside getting some air.”
Annie glanced through the French doors and replied with eyebrows raised, “So I see.”
“Go back and dance. Have fun! Enjoy yourself.”
Annie’s eyes nearly popped from her skull. “Now I know you’re sick or something. You’re not my sister.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Lily asked, smothering a laugh.
“What’s wrong with you?” Annie glanced at her, looking nothing if not suspicious. “You don’t sound like yourself.”
“Nothing is wrong with me. I’m merely enjoying myself. And this wonderful, wonderful champagne.” Lily plucked another glass from the tray of a passing footman. “And this marvelous party.”
“Lily Andrews. You are foxed!”
Lily swallowed her giggle at her sister’s use of her maiden name and took a sip of champagne. “Shh. It’s a secret.”
Annie’s eyes were as round as the bottom of the champagne flute. “I cannot believe I’ve lived to see the day you’d overindulge in alcohol.”
Lily glanced around to make sure they weren’t being overheard and pulled her sister into a corner. They hid behind a potted palm. “Annie, look. We may be leaving for Northumberland tomorrow. This is our last night to have fun. Real fun. Now go out and dance with Jordan Holloway or your young Mr. Egglethorpe or whatever his name is. Enjoy yourself.”
Annie clutched at Lily’s hand, real fear in her eyes. “Northumberland?”
“Yes. Yes. I was going to tell you all about it on the way. But the fact is we’re destitute and I’ve asked Cousin Althea to take us in.”
“Destitute? What are you talking about?” Annie braced her hand against the wall, her eyes wide.
The haze surrounding Lily’s brain lifted momentarily. Oh, dear, she shouldn’t have brought this up to Annie tonight. Especially when she hadn’t even heard back from their cousin yet. Blasted champagne. Lily did so want her sister to enjoy her last night of Society.
She lowered her voice. “We have no choice, Annie. You must know we’ve been struggling for some time now. It’s more and more difficult for me to pay the bills. The new earl has written that he intends to take over the house. We have no choice.”
Annie’s face wore a mask of panic. “You were just going to cart me off to Northumberland without telling me? Without giving me a chance to say good-bye to my friends … or Arthur?”
A warning bell sounded in Lily’s brain at her sister’s use of Mr. Eggleston’s Christian name. “Keep your voice down,” Lily insisted, patting Annie’s hand. “You can post letters from Northumberland. Annie, listen, this isn’t my first choice either. But there’s nothing else for us to do. Once I sell a second pamphlet, perhaps—”
“I suppose you’re right, Lily. I should go enjoy myself. For one last night.” Blinking back tears, Annie pulled her hand from Lily’s grasp and stalked away.
Lily winced. Guilt clawed at her. The last thing she wanted was to hurt Annie, disappoint her. But it was time for Annie to grow up. Her sister wanted to be treated like an adult, well, she’d just have to accept adult information, adult responsibility. And the fact was they had no money. No place to go.
She watched Annie’s retreating figure until she saw her dancing with Eggleston, a smile on her face. That was the spirit.
Lily sighed. She’d handled that episode poorly. She knew it. The champagne was to blame. She would make it up to Annie in the morning. Explain everything more clearly. Tonight, she had a new pamphlet to research.
Lily glanced back out the French doors. Colton was gone. Had he reentered the house through another set of doors? Or was he hiding from her? Well, she’d thrown down the gauntlet. Now she must be brave enough to see it picked up.
She must play out this little drama, whether it proved to be comedy or tragedy. She hurried upstairs to ask Mary to help her remove her stays. She knew from experience that Devon Morgan was quite adept at such things, but it would still be preferable to wear more easily accessible clothing if a seduction was her intention.
She rushed into the bedchamber and called for Mary. The maid popped her head out from the adjoining room.
“Mary, quickly, I must put on my night rail.”
Mary scurried out. “What? Why, me lady?”
Hmm. Lily hadn’t quite thought that far.
“If I told you, you would not believe me,” Lily replied. There was one good thing about having a maid who could not remember anything. Mary would not judge her for her indiscretion in the morning. She wouldn’t remember.
Mary helped Lily shed her lavender gown and stays and soon Lily was wearing her filmy white night rail. She pulled on her robe. “Thank you very much.” She hugged Mary quickly and sneaked to the door. Lily examined the darkened hallway carefully. She must wait for the right moment to make her flight.
She already knew exactly where Devon’s bedchamber was.
CHAPTER 23
Lily paused outside of Devon’s room, her entire body quaking. What if he wasn’t inside? What if he’d locked the door? Rejected her again? She took a deep breath. She couldn’t risk standing in the hall in her night rail, wringing her hands and biting her lip. This was the path she had chosen and she would follow it.
She placed a shaking hand on the cold brass knob, turned, and pushed.
Unlocked, thank heavens.
Expelling her breath, she pressed the door open and swung inside, her night rail swishing about her ankles. She closed the door and leaned back against it, closing her eyes. Her heart raced at what was surely a nearly fatal speed.
Lily opened her eyes again and blinked rapidly. Only a few candles burned intermittently about. One on the mantelpiece, one on the far wall near the window, and one next to the … bed.
She straightened her shoulders. Devon stood beside the bed. The look on his face told her he’d made his choice. He wanted her. He still wore his black trousers and white shirt, but he’d removed his boots. He walked barefoot toward her. His cravat was gone too, and his stark white shirt was open at the neck to reveal a tanned, muscular expanse with a shadow of dark chest hair.
Lily squeezed her hands to keep them from shaking. Oh, my, the man was handsome. In that moment, she no longer cared about the bet or the money or even her nerves. All that mattered at the moment was the six feet two inches of pure lust-inducing male headed toward her, the dark eyes boring into her as if they could read her thoughts, the dark hair her fingertips ached to touch.
“You’re two minutes late,” he drawled, a sensual smile on his face.
He took
her hand gently and led her to the bed. Lily walked with him on legs that felt like water.
“You’re sure about this, Lily?” he whispered against her hair, his strong arms enveloping her.
She nodded, once.
“Please tell me you’re not thinking of the bet right now.”
She turned her head to the side and pressed it against his hard chest. “I’m not.”
Devon’s shoulders relaxed a bit. “Good. You know I never would have made that bet myself and I don’t give a damn about it.”
Another nod.
“If you’re uncomfortable at all, or frightened, say the word and we’ll stop.”
One more nod.
Then Devon smiled at her, and the sensual curve of his lips banished all doubt from Lily’s mind. All she could think about was where his lips had been the last time they were alone together in a bedchamber. Her face heated.
And Devon made it so easy for her with his soft words of love and his lazy caresses. There was no fear here, none at all, just anticipation, sitting like a knot in her belly, spreading its spirals into her arms and legs and making her shiver.
“You’re beautiful, Lily,” Devon whispered against her mouth, and then he held her away from him, pulling her to the side and obviously enjoying the sight of her shadowy body beneath the flimsy night rail.
“So beautiful,” he whispered. He seemed to know she’d feel more at ease if he allowed her to keep her gown on. He tugged her hand and pulled her to the bed. He turned around and pulled his shirt off over his head using both hands.
His shoulders flexed, his arms flexed, his whole back was rigid and muscled and … perfect. She couldn’t stand it. Oh, she wanted to see more. The candlelight glinted off his smooth skin and Lily bit her lip.
It was lust. That’s what it was. Pure, unadulterated lust. And it was … powerful. Magical.
“We’ll go slowly,” he whispered. “Very slowly.”
Secrets of a Wedding Night Page 17
