A Season to Be Sinful (38 page)

He did not simply make her want him but made her want more of him. Her hips jerked, ground, and she squeezed her eyes closed as she felt herself being lifted. It was only pleasure that made her rise. His hands were not under her but holding hers. She pressed her heels into the chaise, groaning in frustration when she could find no purchase against the sateen fabric.

They adapted, changing positions, turning so that she was still under him but with her bottom raised. He knelt behind her, holding her hips, thrusting as deeply into her as he had before. Her skirt bunched around her hips, and the hard points of her nipples rubbed against the smooth chaise. Lily jammed her knuckles against her mouth. She heard the change in Sherrys breathing, the roughness of it as he pressed her harder.

It was a crescendo of pure joy that he evoked this time, each note of pleasure more deeply resonant than the one be-fore it. Just as she had known would happen, what he was able to evoke in her became part of him. When his rhythm changed to one that was both quick and shallow, she thrust back harder, urging him toward the same release she had known.

Sherry did not surrender to the urge to shout, though considerable effort was required. It was just as difficult not to fall forward and crush Lily beneath his weight. The familiar lethargy that came in the aftermath of pleasure was upon him quickly.

Easing himself out of her, he repaired his clothing and lay down beside her. He helped her right her drawers and shift, then pushed at her dress so that it covered her thighs. The chaise was narrow, and each tune their knees bumped they were in danger of falling off.

We are like two magnets facing each other at the north end, he said. Turn on your other side.

And give you my south end again? I know what you did the last time it was presented to you.

He did give a shout of laughter then. Almost immediately, he felt Lilys palm clamp across his mouth. It did not sober him, but it muffled him well enough. Alukdthadurr.

Lily frowned. What? Although she asked the question, she refused to lift her hand even a fraction to hear the answer while Sherrys shoulders were still shaking.

Alukdthadurr.

You must compose yourself, mlord.

He struggled manfully, though he thought her unapprecia-tive of his efforts. Her mouth remained primly flattened, and the manner in which she eyed him was a look she usually reserved for the scoundrels. When she judged his laughter had subsided enough, she raised her palm. He said the words quickly, lest she changed her mind. I locked the door.

What does that signify? If you bring so much attention down on us, it will not matter that no one can get in. Everyone will imagine the very worst.

The worst? Surely not.

Lily gave his shoulders a small shove, not enough to dislodge him from the chaise but enough to make him reconsider the notion of lying there long. Play for me, Sherry. I want to hear your music in this room. Blushing slightly, she added, Your other music.

He grinned and dropped a kiss on her parted lips. Very well, but stay just as you are. It will inspire me.

Lily thought she liked the sound of that. It is a very pretty compliment, mlord.

Sherry sat at the pianoforte and prepared himself by playing a series of scales, then slipped easily into a Mozart piece that he had committed to memory years ago. He did not know what had inspired Mozart, but the exquisitely complex melody, the intricacy of the fingering, and the brilliance of every measure did indeed remind him of Lily.

From time to time as he played, he glanced in her direction. She never moved. Lying on her side, her head supported by an elbow, one knee drawn up higher than the other, she might have been arranged in just such a fashion for the pleasure of a painter. What artist, he wondered, would have been able to capture the brilliant play of sunlight in her hair or the incandescent gleam where it rested on her white shoulder? Vermeer? Titian? How would it be possible to give full expression to the essence of her on canvas? Which master could do justice to her singularly splendid eyes and bring to mind the harmony of mystery and frankness that existed there?

She was an exquisitely complex piece of work and, to Sherrys thinking, worth devoting a lifetime to appreciating.

He set his palms on his knees when he finished playing. The final notes still echoed softly in his ears, and he waited for them to fall silent before he turned to her. When he did, he saw that her eyes were luminous with unshed tears but that there was no aspect of sadness in the cast of her features. On the contrary, she looked radiantly happy.

Will you marry me, Lily? Sherry watched her blink, then become still. What was in her face remained frozen, but there was no longer any joy behind it. I had thought to say it better, he said quietly. I had other words, prettier ones, in my head that would explain how you have come to be my heart, how I recognize you as both separate from me and a part of me, and how I cannot imagine my life with you outside of it. Selfish, is it not, to insist you know all the ways I will benefit. His faint smile held more in the way of mockery than humor. Are all offers of marriage made in that same vein, I wonder? I have never made one before.

I dont know. Lilys voice was husky and not much above a whisper. I have never received one before.

He nodded slowly. I cannot even say where one goes for advice on the matter. And it begs the question: what is the measure of a good proposal? Can the womans reply be the only yardstick of its worth? If the thing is completely fumbled and she says yes in spite of that, what does it signify? In contrast, what if the proposal is intelligently conceived and she He stopped because Lily was rising to her feet. His heart hammered in his chest as she approached, and when only an arms length separated them, he stood.

It was a beautiful proposal, she said. And my answer has nothing at all to do with what is in my heart. It is my head that will not allow me to accept.

Dont say anything else. Not now. Think on it, Lily. Think toward the solution. I know the problems well enough. I know why you believe you cannot say yes, but do not say no. Once spoken aloud, you will find it even harder to back away from it. Perhaps you think I spoke out of turn or should have never thought of putting the question to you, but it has been on my mind, and I decided it was unfair to both of us to not give it voice.

Sherry held out his hand to her. There was also the sunlight in your hair. He shrugged a bit diffidently. I could not help myself.

Smiling, Lily took his hand and let herself be drawn into his embrace. I did not know you could be so impulsive, or at least moved to it by sunshine in a womans hair.

He tried to dismiss it with a soft grunt at the back of his throat, but his arms came around her more tightly. Will you think about it, Lily?

I have not said no, have I?

Sherry placed his lips against her hair and breathed deeply of her fragrance. He knew he had pressed her into giving him this reprieve. Depending upon the generosity of her spirit had never failed him, though he experienced a flash of guilt for doing so. You will not be sorry.

No, I do not think I will be.

It was Lady Rivendales idea to invite Lily to dine with her and Sherry. Lily could think of no plausible excuse that would permit her to beg off. The boys had already had their meal and submitted to a bath with hardly a protest. When they emerged, only Midge needed a second dunking to scrub behind his ears. Theyd dressed for bed in record time and waved aside her offer of having something read to them. She should have suspected then that they had already been apprised of the countesss intention, but she was still revisiting Sherrys proposal and did not see their part in the plan as it was unfolding.

Lady Rivendales invitation took Lily quite by surprise, and there was but a single answer that she could give. Thank you, she told the maid who came to her room with the message. Tell her ladyship I shall be happy to do so.

Lady Rivendale received this news calmly enough. It was only when the maid departed that she turned to Sherry and allowed him to see her relief. I confess, Sherry, I was not certain she would accept. She must imagine it will be as comfortable as having thumbscrews applied.

That is what I am imagining, Aunt. She deuced well better find another vision that will serve. She cannot have mine. He closed the book he was reading and set it on his lap. Please say you mean to behave yourself.

Sherry. Is it possible you do not trust me? Of course I

will behave. I only wish to know her better. How that can give you the least pause Im sure I dont know.

What gives me pause is that you have been planning it all day. The scoundrels are never finished eating, bathing, and abed so early. Id like to think it is because you wore them out, but I suspect it is because you drew them into your confidence. Cybelline is to have a child, you know. Is there not some attention you should be paying to her?

Cybelline is wonderfully well settled, thanks in no small part to me. You are not.

Neither are you. I thought Sir Arthur would have visited by now. He was certainly attentive to you in his home. Why have you not invited him here? Shall I ask him to dine with us tomorrow?

If you do, I shall never speak to you again.

You will have to explain why that should deter me. Lady Rivendale laughed. That is very bad of you. If I thought it was in any way truly meant, I would be hurt beyond reason. Arthur and I have an understanding, Sherry. He will be available when I have need of him, and I will be available as it suits me.

It seems all the advantages are yours, Aunt.

Yes, and that is why it suits me so admirably. Sherry simply shook his head. It was probably not possible that he would understand women, but that did not preclude enjoying them. He might have said as much to his godmotherhe certainly considered itbut Wolfe arrived to announce that dinner was ready to be served.

Setting his book aside, Sherry stood and offered his arm. Shall we?

Lily was coming down the stairs when Sherry and Lady Rivendale stepped into the hall. They stopped and greeted her, then continued on so that she followed naturally in their wake. Those first moments were not as awkward as shed thought they would be, and once they were seated, dinner proceeded with remarkable ease.

They spoke of things both inconsequential and of import, but none of it of a personal nature. Sherry listened as his godmother skillfully drew Lily out, getting to know her not by means of who she was but by means of what she thought. Her ladyship was too clever for thumbscrews. She accomplished her ends with humor and grace, by listening more than she spoke, by challenging with a well-considered question, and by remaining nonjudgmental while giving no ground on her own positions.

It was a masterful performance, and Sherry was moved to slyly salute her with his glass of wine when Lilys head was turned. His godmothers faint smile told him the gesture was appreciated.

There was hardly a lull in the conversation as dishes were served and taken away, and the only awkward moment was when Lady Rivendale suggested they retire to the music salon so that Sherry might play for them.

Do you not wish to play? she asked. I confess, it did not occur to me that you would not want to, though I have heard little enough of it since my arrival.

Sherry held up his left hand and stiffly wiggled his thumb and index finger. A recent injury, Im afraid. Dislocation. I should rather play when its not quite so painful.

Lily kept her eyes on her dessert plate. She had no idea whether Sherrys explanation was truly accepted by his godmother or simply allowed to pass without scrutiny. The outcome, though, was that they retired to one of the intimate drawing rooms on the ground floor.

Lady Rivendale accepted a small brandy and encouraged Lily to try the same. Sherry had a glass of port.

Do you play cards? Lady Rivendale asked Lily.

No. As you might imagine, it was discouraged at the abbey.

That is the problem with a religious order taking up the cause of education. I suppose they did not allow gambling either.

Lily swallowed carefully before answering. No, mlady. They were particular about discouraging all the vices.

Do you hear that, Sherry? There was no end to the mischief at Eton, was there? Cards and gambling were the least of it. She sipped her brandy, not anticipating there would be any reply from her godson. Do you know who I credit with being a superior card player?

It cannot be me, Sherry said. You beat me regularly.

I do, dont I? No, you are quite right, it is not you. As much as it pains me to admit it, it is that annoying cousin of my late husbands. His card play may well be the sole reason I am willing to allow him to claim a connection. She sipped her brandy as she considered the truth of that. He cheats, you know. I am sure of it, but I cannot catch him out.

Lily asked. Then how can you be certain he cheats?

Because I am accounted to be a card sharp myself, my dear. Isnt that so, Sherry?

It is indeed. He joined his godmother on the sofa and laid his arm across the back of it behind her shoulders. He spoke to Lily. It is inevitable that she will know what you have in your hand before the play is fully finished. She counts cards and remembers everything that was discarded. She is invariably the only woman Hepplewhite invites to play cards in his home. Sherry chuckled when he saw Lily managed to look impressed. He was quite sure she had no idea who Hepplewhite was. The marquesss wife gives the most excruciatingly dull entertainments during the Season, but his card games are all the rage for their unconventional wagering and elimination play. Aunt Georgia has won on occasion, though I think the last was several years ago. What did you win then, Aunt? One hundred shares in a shipping venture to China and a Turkish bathhouse?