Barefoot in Hyde Park (The Hellion Club Book 2)

by Chasity Bowlin

  “Yes, of course, I would. He didn’t strike me or shove me… but he did trip me, and I’m fairly certain he did so on purpose. And then he said that I should be careful because it would be a shame if something were to happen to me. And now I am wondering if he was responsible for the other event in the park… but you already suspected that, didn’t you?”

  “I did,” he admitted through clenched teeth. “And it does sound like a threat, but a very vague and cowardly one. And your ankle wasn’t further injured with this?”

  “Only my dignity, but it’s taken several blows of late,” she said with a laugh. Growing serious again, she added, “He also said that you had discovered enough dead women in your life without adding myself to the list. I’m paraphrasing, of course, but it was something to that effect… and he told me about your mother.”

  Val’s expression shifted into something unreadable. It wasn’t angry or even hurt, just impassive. “I see. And what did he tell you about her?”

  “That she’d been using laudanum and had ingested too much of it. And that you found her after,” Lilly admitted. She wished fervently that she hadn’t even broached the subject. What right did she have to pry into such things? His past was his and his alone.

  “That is all sadly true. And she was melancholic and there were questions about whether or not she had done so intentionally… ultimately, and likely with great influence by my grandmother, both the church and the local magistrate deemed that it had not been suicide but an accident. We were permitted to bury her near the chapel at our country estate.”

  Regret coursing through her, Lilly offered, “I shouldn’t have asked. I should never have mentioned it at all.”

  “No, you should have. I should have told you without you having to ask,” he said. “You’re certainly entitled to know. Heaven knows you’ll be confronted with gossip about it at some point or other. But it isn’t just my mother that he’s referring to… there was another girl. It was before I left for the army. She was a country girl, local gentry and rather free with her favors, unfortunately. I fancied myself in love with her and even thought to offer for her. Alas, I didn’t. I lost my nerve. And then two days later, I was out riding with Elsworth and some other young men from the area and I found her body in the stream. There were questions.”

  “But no charges?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. “It was determined that she’d slipped and fallen into the water during a heavy rain. With her skirts so heavy, she’d been unable to get herself up and out of the water… or so the magistrate had surmised.”

  “You disagreed with his assessment?” Lilly asked.

  “I did. I still do. She had bruises about her throat that were not caused by drowning. It was very clear to me that someone had committed an assault against her, but whether or not that was the cause of her death, I cannot say,” Val admitted to her. “And I don’t know why it was hushed up and never investigated. Perhaps my grandmother thought I was guilty and did the same thing she had done after my mother’s death and simply made it all go smoothly.”

  “Or perhaps she thought Elsworth was guilty. You are not the only grandson she must protect,” Lillian suggested. “And if we are right about him now, he’s clearly shown that he is capable of violence against any woman who threatens his position as your heir.”

  She saw the shock that flitted across his face, as if it had never occurred to him to question his cousin’s involvement in the death of another young woman. But no one wished to believe ill of those closest to them. It was always easier to suspect a stranger of such terrible and heinous acts than one so near.

  “My God,” he said. “You could be right. For so long, I had thought perhaps she had another lover, or that she’d spurned someone’s advances and been met with the terrible consequences of their temper. But it makes sense for Elsworth to at least be a suspect, does it not?”

  “Did he know your intentions?” Lilly asked.

  Val’s expression turned grim. “He did. But he didn’t know that I had changed my mind about asking her. He had every reason to expect that she would say yes given my status and my expectations. And if that is the case, that he murdered her to protect what he perceived to be his future, then our betrothal has painted a target on your back. You are in danger and it is entirely my fault.”

  “No, it isn’t. The fault lies only with those who commit such unspeakable acts. Breaking our engagement will not make this go away,” she said. “He won’t stop now, because he’s shown me what he really is. I know the truth of him and men like that… they don’t forgive that easily nor do they forget.”

  “You still wish to marry me,” he said. “Even knowing what you do about me and about my family? Not just Elsworth, but my mother and all of it. You think we should still go through with it?”

  Lilly cocked her head to one side, meeting his worried gaze. A soft smile tugged at her lips. “Without a doubt. And I would be the worst sort of hypocrite to hold the circumstances of your mother’s death against you. Heavens, look at my own. If it’s even true. Perhaps she’s alive and well and just wanted no part of me. I certainly heard of her desperate act from an unreliable source. So, yes, I do wish to continue with our plan, foolhardy as it may seem to others. Do you?”

  He frowned at her for a moment. “Oddly enough, yes, I do. Without a doubt, as you said.”

  Lilly arched her eyebrows. “Really?”

  He grinned, dispelling the darkness that had settled over them with their earlier conversation. It was an attempt to put them both at ease, and Lilly was glad of it.

  “Perhaps a few small doubts,” he admitted teasingly. “Every man is entitled to question the end of his bachelorhood, isn’t he?”

  “Only if every woman is entitled to question whether or not tying her fate to a feckless man is the best course of action,” she shot back, in her best imitation of the Dowager Duchess of Templeton.

  He laughed at that, shaking his head. “I think that’s fair. And I’m beginning to see why my grandmother engineered all of this. You’re a bit like her, you know? In your thinking and your view of the world. More forthright and less manipulative to be certain. That’s not a complaint by the way. I’ll take your forthrightness and be thankful for it.”

  Lilly began walking again, easing along the path in the small garden. It wound around rocks and bushes, trees and statuary to make the most of the small amount of space there. “You may rethink your stance on that as time goes by.”

  “Perhaps. But there are other aspects of marriage that I think will allow us to be forgiving of any foibles and flaws we might see in one another,” he said.

  “You’re referring to our kiss this morning,” she said. Recalling it left her feeling weak and breathless.

  “That is exactly what I meant. Perhaps if I kiss you now, in the privacy of our own little garden, we won’t be interrupted by spies or attempted murders,” he suggested.

  “We could be interrupted by something far worse,” she answered. “A dowager duchess.”

  His hand snaked out, grasped her wrist and tugged her to him until she fell against his chest and their mouths were scant inches apart. “I’ll brave the risk,” he whispered. Then his lips were descending on hers once more.

  Doubt fled. Questions and rationality were banished to the furthest reaches of her mind. Instead, she simply clung to him and the sweetness of that moment. She let the heat invade her, let it wash through her until she was breathless with it. As long as he was kissing her, anything seemed possible.

  *

  God above, but the taste of her was all that was both sinful and sweet. Every time he touched his lips to hers, he only wanted more and more. It was as heady and intoxicating as any spirit he’d ever imbibed and produced its own peculiar brand of euphoria.

  She sighed, her lips parting and allowing him entrance. He savored it, committed it to memory even as he took the kiss further. Maneuvering them off the garden path and into the shadows of a tall hedge, he tipped h
er head back and deepened the kiss even further. When her hands came up, locking behind his neck as her fingers threaded into his hair, he was lost. Any thought of stopping, any thought of where they were and what paths of impropriety he might be leading her down simply fled. He was driven by his own desire and his need of her.

  There was a small bench nestled there against the hedge and, somehow, he managed to get them to it without ever breaking the kiss. Sitting down, tugging her onto his lap so that he could hold her close and touch every damnably tempting inch of her, he hadn’t forgotten where they were. He simply didn’t care. Discovery and scandal be damned.

  The gown she wore, one of the castoffs she’d been given, fit loosely enough that it offered little or no resistance when he tugged it down to reveal the generous swells of her breasts above her stays. As much as he enjoyed the sweetness of her lips, he longed to kiss her elsewhere, to test the porcelain texture of her skin and see if it felt as smooth beneath his lips and tongue as it appeared. Dipping his head, he pressed his mouth to her breast, laving the satin of her skin with his tongue and then nipping with his teeth until she shivered against him.

  “You are wicked,” she said on a ragged breath.

  “So are you,” he replied, his whispered words skating over her skin as he shifted one hand to cup the fullness of her breast. Even with layers of cloth between them, he could feel the hardened bud of her nipple against his palm and he wanted nothing more than to divest her of every garment right there. “Wicked and, if I am the luckiest man alive, perhaps a bit wanton.”

  She said nothing to that, but then she didn’t have to. Instead of words, she arched toward him, offering herself to him in the sweetest way he could have imagined. Unable to resist, he grasped the laces of her stays and slipped the knot free. The fabric parted just enough that he could reach inside and touch her bare flesh. Every touch was gentle—coaxing and seductive. He could see her response, the initial shock and the pleasure that followed as well as the undeniable yearning for more.

  “I warned you, Lilly… Pandora’s box has been opened. Every time I touch you, you will want more, you will become bolder and more brazen. Curiosity and desire will drown out your fears,” he vowed.

  “I think they already have,” she admitted. “But we have to go in. The dinner gong will sound any moment and I need to change.”

  She was right, of course. And if they didn’t return promptly when it sounded, there would be hell to pay. Reluctantly, he removed his hand from the confines of her clothes and helped her do them up once more. As she rose, she looked neat and tidy as ever, albeit with a sparkle in her eyes and a flush in her cheeks that had not been there before. And her lips, swollen from his kisses and more delectable for it, tempted him once more. He kissed her gently then, aware that to do more would only result in greater frustration for them both.

  “Go inside. I’ll follow shortly,” he said. As soon as he could walk without his breeches doing him permanent injury.

  She walked away, pausing to look back at him over her shoulder. Beautiful, innately and unconsciously seductive, it was a pose that showed her lush curves to advantage. And in the silvery light of the evening, she was truly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  The realization that what he felt for her was more than lust, more even than admiration and liking, swamped him. He was entirely infatuated with her and infatuation could lead to so much more, to something that could well destroy them both. Love led to jealousy and jealousy led to the same misery that had consumed his mother. It had been her obsession with his father’s, not even fidelity but disinterest, that had led to her melancholia. She’d longed for his love. And like anyone else in his father’s life, she’d been denied it.

  “I am not my mother,” he whispered aloud. He was stronger than her and infinitely more suited to coping with life. “I will not be like her.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Val was rushing to get into the drawing room just after the dinner the following evening. The gong had sounded already. He noted, as he paused in the doorway, the guarded expression on his cousin’s face. His face revealed nothing, but in the other man’s gaze he saw nothing but malice. As if becoming aware that he was being observed, Elsworth pasted a cool smile on his face and turned to walk away.

  He’d left the house early that morning and had not seen Lilly all day. He’d been too busy trying to get the information he needed. That moment, seeing the banked animosity in his cousin, made all that he’d done that day, the hours spent ferreting out the nasty details of his cousin’s less than ethical business dealings, worth it. Whatever he’d owe to Highcliff, and even to the Hound, would be a reasonable cost. He’d also bribed a pretty maid from next door to flirt with Elsworth’s valet. He needed to know where his cousin was on the morning he and Lilly had been in the park.

  Entering the drawing room fully, he stopped short. He’d known that Madame Renaud had delivered several gowns to the house that day. The men he’d set to guarding it had reported all comings and goings to him. Even knowing he would see her in something that would be more suited to her, he was struck dumb by the sight. What he saw robbed him of breath. It wasn’t the midnight blue silk of his earlier imaginings. It was the color of smoke—dark, sultry, seductive. The neckline was edged in black lace that highlighted the alabaster tone of her skin and the cut of it showed enough of her supple flesh that he wasn’t sure if he’d been permanently robbed of the ability to speak. He’d touched her there, teased her to the edge of desire and just a bit beyond. But dressed in that way, her hair styled as it was, her beauty wasn’t just something to appreciate. It was a weapon.

  “Good evening, my lord,” she said.

  The triumph in her gaze spoke only of the power of a woman who knew her own beauty. She knew what she was, and she wasn’t afraid to use it for him or against him, he thought. And he admired her even more for it. “That gown is exquisite on you. But you need jewelry,” he said, coming to stand beside her. “I have been remiss.”

  She laughed softly. “You do know precisely what to say to get my attention, don’t you?”

  “I do, indeed. Gowns and jewels. Furs, perhaps?” he asked with a grin. He enjoyed her delight in such things. He enjoyed that she made no pretense of hiding her pleasure in anything that she enjoyed.

  She frowned then. “When you put it in those terms, it makes me sound as if I’m greedy or avaricious. I’m not. But I do love pretty things. Is that wrong?”

  “Not in the least. You should be surrounded by pretty things. All the time. And I don’t mind if you’re greedy for that… I think I might even find it charming,” he admitted. “There’s also something imminently satisfying for a man in being able to provide such things for the women in his life.”

  “Why on earth would you find that charming?” she asked.

  “Because you don’t hide it, Lilly. Because when you like something, you say you like it… and when you don’t, well, you say that, too. There’s something refreshing about being in the presence of a person who tells the truth no matter what light it might cast them, or me, in.”

  “Oh, dear heavens!” the dowager duchess groused. “You’ll have more than enough time for little tête-à-têtes after you’re wed! For now, mingle and be delightful as young unmarried people are supposed to!”

  “About that,” Val said, halting her with a hand on her arm. “I have the license. Highcliff presented it to me this afternoon. And I also have an appointment set for us at St. Paul’s for tomorrow morning at nine sharp. Don’t tell Grandmother. I don’t want anyone in the house to know our plans.”

  “Won’t we need witnesses?” she asked in a whisper.

  “It’s taken care of. I assume that Madame Renaud left you another suitable costume for such an event?”

  Lilly nodded. “She did, indeed. You knew that of course. The guards you posted outside are not very subtle.”

  He grinned. “Spotted them, did you? I don’t want them to be subtle, Lilly. Their job isn�
��t to catch whoever’s trying to harm you, but to dissuade them from action. Their presence is necessary. You don’t mind them?”

  “No,” she said. “I don’t. I understand the necessity. By the way, we’re going to start a lending library for the servants so they don’t have to spend their wages on books. I’m also going to teach the housemaids to read.”

  “A lending library? There are first editions of Milton in that library!” he protested.

  “Well they’ve no interest in Milton, I assure you,” Lilly replied. “I shudder at the thought. Apparently, the housemaids and I share a fondness for gothic novels.”

  He blinked at that. “You want me to let the housemaids read Udolpho?”

  She cast a beaming smile at him. “Have you read it then?”

  “No. But I know what it is. You do realize those books are somewhat salacious?”

  “Yes, I do. That’s rather why I like them,” she admitted. “What an entertaining evening I might have had reading in my chamber instead of coming down for dinner! Salacious. That’s a rather delightful word, don’t you think?”

  He did, indeed, especially as he watched it roll off her pretty lips. “You are a wicked woman, Lillian Burkhart. Wicked and wonderful.”

  “Wonderful, perhaps. Wicked? Not yet. But I will be… and wanton, as well,” she said and then moved away toward his grandmother who eyed them both suspiciously.

  “Don’t let him talk you into anything, my dear,” the dowager duchess warned loudly. “Men are terrible, terrible creatures.”

  Lillian smiled slightly as she looked back at him, a coy quirking of her full lips that highlighted the curves of them and the perfection of her face. “Perhaps they are, but I’m beginning to see their merits all the same.”

  “Pish posh! Worthless. The lot of them!” the dowager duchess harrumphed loudly. “Valentine, escort your betrothed to dinner and try to behave as if you have some morals, please.”