A Season of Ruin (24 page)

Robyn drifted back to consciousness the way one breaks the surface of the water after a long, deep swim, in a kaleidoscope of sensations: his ragged breath, Lily's palm pressed to his back, both his hands fisted in her curls, her soft limbs wrapped around him and his body still buried in hers. She'd gone quiet and still beneath him, her only movement the soft stroke of her fingers against his back.

A wave of panic washed over him. He'd gone mindless at the end, delirious with pleasure when she'd clenched around him. Had he been too rough? Had he—
dear God
, had he hurt her?

“Lily? Did I hurt you? I'm sorry—”

Her fingers touched his lips to quiet him. “I'm not.”

He gazed down at her. Her hair was a mass of wild tangles against the pillow and a dreamy half smile curled her mouth. She traced his lips with her finger for a moment, then laid her hand against his cheek.

Robyn's breath left his lungs in a deep, relieved sigh.
Thank God
. For once, he'd managed to do something right.

“We'll have to sneak you back to your bedchamber, you
know.” He shifted off her so as not to crush her with his weight, then gathered her into his arms and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Not yet, though. Not yet.”

She threw an arm over his chest and snuggled closer to his side. “Good, because I'm not certain I can move.”

Robyn smiled. It occurred to him that he should be ashamed of himself for making love to an innocent with such unbridled enthusiasm, but he felt only fierce satisfaction. “If I had my way, you wouldn't move from my bed for weeks.”

She giggled. “That would suit me.” To emphasize her point, she pressed a light kiss against his nipple.

He moaned faintly and his cock twitched in anticipation. Good Lord. He'd had the most earth-shattering climax of his life just now, had been buried deep inside her mere minutes ago, and with one kiss, just like that, he wanted her again.

But even he wasn't such a beast as to take an innocent twice in one night.

“Lily,” he choked out, but to his horror the word was less like the warning he'd intended, and more like a plea.

She seemed to hear it as one. She lingered over his nipple for a moment, then pressed a kiss to his chest and began to work her way down his body, her mouth hot against his now fevered flesh.

He reached down to stop her—
Jesus, he hoped it was to stop her
—when she gave a distressed cry. “Oh, no. Oh, Robyn.”

He sat up. She was hunched over his torso, looking as if she wanted to cry. His heart lurched in his chest. “What? Lily, for God's sake, what is it?”

She pointed a shaking finger and he looked down to find an ugly black bruise the size of a dinner plate covering his ribs where he'd taken the blow from Atherton.

“It's all right, love. Oh, no—don't
cry
, Lily.”

Too late. Her blue eyes filled with tears.

“It doesn't hurt a bit,” he lied, desperate to make her stop.
It did, of course. It hurt like hell, more so now after their enthusiastic lovemaking, but he wasn't about to confess that to Lily, especially as the pleasure had far exceeded the pain.

“
It doesn't hurt?
I don't believe you!” She leaned over his torso and her lips drifted across the bruise in the lightest, gentlest of kisses.

Robyn's heart swelled in his chest at the tenderness of the gesture. “Come here, sweetheart. It's all right. I'd have expected more stoicism from my nurse, you know.”

She settled back into his open arms, careful not to jostle his ribs. “It must have been a very ugly brawl, indeed. Oh, Robyn, why would you endanger yourself like that? Promise me you'll never fight again.”

Her voice was tense with anxiety, and she'd gone rigid in his arms. Robyn pulled her close, stroked her hair, and murmured soothing promises to her until he felt the tension drain from her body. “I won't do so again.”

He wouldn't tell her he'd brawled with Atherton, or why, and he certainly wouldn't tell her about the duel. She wouldn't hear of it from his sisters or his mother, for they didn't know about it themselves. He planned to ask Alec to be his second, but he could trust his brother not to breathe a word to Delia. Archie could be trusted to keep silent, as well.

There was no need for her to know. It would only terrify her. The whole thing would be over before two days had passed and, God willing, he'd still be in one piece when it was.

She stirred against him. “Promise me, Robyn.”

“I do, love. I promise.”

He continued to stroke her hair until she fell asleep.

“Well, you look quite pleased with yourself this morning, Lily,” Charlotte said with the air of someone rendering a verdict.

Lily fluffed her skirts out across the carriage seat and gave Charlotte a demure smile. “Do I? I can't imagine why.”

Pleased
. Such a pale word to describe how she felt this morning.

They were on their way to pay a morning call to Lady Chase. Even at this early hour the carriage labored through the congested London streets, but to Lily, it felt as if they floated on a cloud.

“Oh, I can,” Charlotte said. “Indeed, I
know
why.”

Lily's gaze shot to her friend's face. Had Charlotte seen her with Robyn last night?

She hadn't returned to her bedchamber until the wee hours of the morning. The house had been so silent and still, Lily was certain they'd escaped unobserved, but if Charlotte
had
seen them, one glance would have been enough for her to see what they'd been up to.

Robyn had worn only a robe, and Lily had been clutching her gaping dress to her breasts, not having bothered with the buttons. Once they'd reached her door, he'd kissed her, then kissed her again, and she'd clasped her arms around his neck to pull him closer. . .

It hadn't been a quick good night.

Lily cleared a lump of panic from her throat. “You
know
? Whatever do you mean, Charlotte? What do you know?”

Charlotte waved a hand through the air. “You've refused Lord Atherton, and so you're able to sleep again. Wonderful, isn't it, the salutary effects of a restful night? I can't think of anything more satisfying than a pleasant sleep.”

I can.

Heat rushed to Lily's face at the thought, but Charlotte had turned to the window and didn't notice. “We're here.”

The carriage rolled to a stop, and Charlotte gathered her gloves and reticule from the seat. “I do hope Lady Chase isn't irritated with us for coming so early. Why couldn't we wait for the proper time to call?”

Lily smoothed her gloves over her suddenly damp palms. “I wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.”

She didn't look forward to this errand. She must tell Lady Chase she'd refused Lord Atherton, and when she did, she and Charlotte might well find themselves back in the carriage and on their way home in short order.

Charlotte's face softened and she reached across the carriage to take Lily's hand. “It will be all right, you know, one way or another.”

Lily squeezed her fingers. “You're a dear to come with me, Charlotte. It may prove to be an unpleasant errand, indeed. I do hope there isn't a scene.”

Charlotte shrugged. “For my part, I adore a shocking scene every now and again, but I daresay we won't have one
this morning. For all your fretting, it's bound to be deadly dull.”

Lady Chase received them with every appearance of pleasure, despite the early hour. She waved away Lily's apology. “Never mind that, child. No need to stand on ceremony with your grandmamma, you know.”

Lily gave her grandmother what she hoped was a confident smile. “That's kind of you, ma'am.”

“Well, Miss Sutherland.” The old lady gave Charlotte a brisk nod. “You're welcome, as well. Shall we have some tea? Yes? The parlor, then, Eddesley.”

Once they were settled and a maid had brought the tea, Lady Chase turned her shrewd blue eyes on Lily. “What brings you two young ladies out so early, then? Not very fashionable, is it?”

Lily's teacup rattled as she replaced it in the saucer. “I, ah, that is, I have something I wish to discuss with you, Grandmother, and I feel it cannot wait.”

Charlotte rose from her seat and retreated to the window, as if she found something terribly interesting in Lady Chase's front garden.

“Is that so? Pray, what might that be, child?”

Lady Chase's calm, steady regard flustered Lily even more. “I've made a decision I fear will displease you.”

Lady Chase retrieved her tea and took a tiny sip. “Have you, now? I suppose you refer to your rejection of Lord Atherton's suit.”

Lily's stomach dropped right into her slippers. How could her grandmother know already? Why, she'd only told Lord Atherton last night!

“I—I, well, yes, but how—how did you—”

“My dear child, I've known Lady Atherton for more years than I care to count. Naturally she told me as soon as Atherton informed her. I'm sorry to say she was
not
pleased. Neither was Atherton, I gather.”

Lily tried to gather her wits. “No, he was not. Not at all,
I'm afraid.” He'd been downright angry, in fact, so much so he'd bordered on ungentlemanly, but Lily saw no reason to inform Lady Chase of this.

“I suppose you . . .” Lily faltered for a moment, then forced the rest of the sentence past numb lips. “I suppose you're not pleased, either, ma'am? It's my understanding you favored the match.”

“Oh, yes, I did. A splendid match for you. Why did you refuse him?”

Lily stared at her grandmother, taken aback by the question. She hadn't thought her motives would interest Lady Chase. She hesitated again, but then opted for the truth. “I don't love him.”

Lady Chase nodded, for all the world as if Lily had asked for more sugar in her tea. “Love, is it? Well, well. I suppose you do love that shameless rogue, don't you? Young Sutherland?”

The room tilted sideways, like the deck of a ship careening down the side of an enormous wave. Lily grasped a handful of the slippery yellow silk settee to keep from sliding to the floor in a heap.

She shot a panicked glance at Charlotte, who still stood at the window.
Oh, no
—had Charlotte overheard Lady Chase's question?

Even more to the point, how was Lily to answer? Charlotte might be listening even now, and then there was Lady Chase to consider. Dear God, she was trapped, a defenseless mouse caught between two birds of prey.

Lady Chase had evidently run out of patience, for she answered the question herself. “Now see here, miss. I know very well you
do
love Sutherland, scoundrel that he is. He's altogether undeserving of your regard, you know.”

“Indeed, he is not!” Lily cried. “He's the best of men, my lady, so kind, and—”

“Yes, yes. Kind, generous, and clever, I'm sure. Handsome, too—let's not overlook handsome, for all the kindness
in the world won't push a young chit's heart toward love as quickly as a pair of handsome eyes. Young Sutherland has fine, dark ones, I believe? Like his sister's, I think.” She nodded toward Charlotte.

“Yes. Dark. Very fine, indeed.” Despite herself, Lily felt a smile hover at the edges of her lips.

Lady Chase scowled at her. “Humph. Just as I thought.”

Lily's smile faded. Before she could stop them, words began to tumble from her lips. “I'm sorry you don't approve, my lady, but I hope your displeasure won't extend to my younger sisters, for they are faultless in this, and I couldn't bear for them to—”

Lady Chase held up her hand for silence. Lily stared at the deep veins under the papery white skin, the glare of a large diamond on one of the long, spindly fingers, and despair clutched at her heart. Her sisters were to be punished for her selfishness. She'd known it would come to this—

“I'm deeply offended, child.”

Oh, no
. Here it was. Lily closed her eyes and prepared for Eddesley to toss them into the street on Lady Chase's orders.

“I'm deeply offended you think I'd disavow your sisters because you've rejected Lord Atherton.”

Lily opened her eyes to stare at Lady Chase. Her mouth opened, then closed again before she could utter a word.

Lady Chase rapped her cane on the floor for emphasis. “I'm as offended you believe I'd disown
you
for the same reason.”

Lily started to speak, but again the be-ringed hand shot into the air to prevent her. “Oh, I realize there's precedent for such belief. That business with your mother . . .”

Lady Chase's voice trailed off. Lily felt the old woman's eyes touch every part of her face—her chin, her cheekbones, her eyebrows—and she knew her grandmother saw her estranged daughter, Millicent, in every feature. A spasm of
pain flashed across the old lady's face, there and gone as quickly as a diamond's flash.

The old lady reached forward and grasped Lily's hand between her own. “Well, girl, Sutherland's a foolish choice, but if he
is
your choice, I suppose I'll learn to live with it. Your grandfather and I lost a daughter because of his pride. It's too late for Lord Chase, but I've learned my lesson, and I won't lose my granddaughters, too.”

Lily's heart twisted in her chest. Such pain—the grand old lady had paid a high price for her folly, and yet she'd triumphed over it in the end. Lily curled her fingers around her grandmother's hand and brought it to her lips, tenderness overwhelming her. “We don't want to lose you, either, Grandmother.”

The old lady's eyes misted. She cleared her throat and gave a great sniff. “Well, now, there's no need for all that nonsense, girl. Let's just hope Sutherland doesn't make you regret your choice.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Lily said, hiding a grin at the old lady's gruffness.

“Miss Sutherland,” Lady Chase called. “You may stop pretending to admire the view from my window now and join us.”

“Of course, my lady.” Charlotte turned from the window. On her way back to the settee, she shot Lily a look that said more clearly than words she
had
overheard Lady Chase's comments about Robyn, and the carriage ride home would be a merciless inquisition.

Lady Chase settled back against the settee. “Well, now we've got that foolish business out of the way, you must tell me what you think of this other foolish business.”

Lily, who pretended not to see Charlotte's knowing smile, turned her attention back to her grandmother. “I beg your pardon, my lady. What foolish business?”

“Why, the duel, of course.”

Charlotte and Lily gave each other blank looks. “Duel? What duel is that, ma'am?” Charlotte asked.

Lady Chase pursed her lips with disapproval. “Such a lot of foolishness if you ask me, but then, men are fools, aren't they? I suppose he said something he ought not to have said, and that hotheaded scoundrel took offense.”

A dim, nameless fear began to sink sharp claws into Lily's heart. “Who said something he oughtn't? Who took offense?”

“Why, Lord Atherton, of course. He said something ungentlemanly, and young Sutherland took offense and issued a challenge. Don't tell me you didn't know?”

Lily's hand crept to her throat, and a sense of unreality swept over her. She turned and saw every drop of color drain from Charlotte's face.

No. It couldn't be
. She wouldn't let it. “Robyn?” she whispered.

But she knew—even before Lady Chase nodded, she knew.

“Yes. Your Sutherland and Lord Atherton meet tomorrow at dawn, and we can only hope one or both of them don't pay for their recklessness with their lives.”

*   *   *

“Swords or pistols?”

Robyn leaned back in his chair. They were in Alec's study with the doors closed.

“Pistols. Lucky thing, too. I've seen Atherton with a sword—Pelkey and I often stop in to watch at Angelo's after a bout at Gentleman Jackson's.”

Alec considered this. “No such worry with pistols, though.”

Robyn raised an eyebrow. “Why? Have you seen Atherton shoot?”

Alec grinned. “No. I've seen
you
shoot.”

Robyn returned the grin, pleased by the compliment.

Alec couldn't have given him a better opening, and yet still he hesitated. Archie would act as his second if he asked, without question. Alec had responsibilities now, including a wife he adored who was several months gone with child. Perhaps he'd better ask Archie, after all—

“You're here to ask me to be your second?”

Robyn's gaze shot to Alec's face. “I thought to, yes, but perhaps Archie—”

“No.” Alec looked at him, his eyes calm, and slowly shook his head. “I'll do it.”

“But Delia—”

“I'll do it, Robyn.”

Once Alec used that stubborn tone, argument was futile. Robyn nodded. “Very well.”

He said no more, but he didn't need to say much. He held his brother's eyes, and a silent understanding passed between them.

“Who is Atherton's second?” Alec asked after a moment.

“Stafford. He sent a note round this morning to say he awaits your pleasure.”

“I'll go around directly, then. Will you accept Atherton's apology, should he choose to offer one?”

“No. He knocked me to the ground when my back was turned, and that's the least of it.”

Alec studied the gash on Robyn's head, the bruise on his jaw, and a faint smile rose to his lips. “Yes, I imagine it is. I hope he looks as bad as you do.”