Hint of Desire (25 page)

Lady Smythe-Burke rose
. “I’ll send someone to clean up this mess and I suggest you head upstairs and compose yourself. I’ll have fresh tea and toast with sweet preserves sent up. No harm in that. I always did like cooked fruits better, so much easier on the stomach. Don’t know why the serve them raw at all. Must be easier on the staff, but still cooked and jammed is best.”

Her hands quivering, Lily nodded and without another word took Lady Smythe-Burke’s advice
. She’d had enough of adventure.

“I can’t imagine where they came from.” Lady Smythe-Burke. “I’ve spoken to cook and she assures me that it was only strawberries she sent out and that she’s never even had Guelder Rose Berries in the kitchen – thinks they’re for peasants.”

“It does seem that mishap seems to follow my wife.
” Arthur tapped a finger against his desk.

“You don’t think –
“ Lady Smythe-Burke sounded appalled.

“Oh, definitely not
. Whatever is happening is not at Lily’s instigation.”

“Then, what is
– “

“I must admit to not being sure
. All I am sure of is that I do no want my wife distressed further. She has been through enough. I have sent inquires to London, but perhaps I should consider attending to the matter myself – an agent can be put off, I cannot.”

Lady Smythe-Burke settled into a chair
. “It does make sense. I am sure you will do what is best.”

If only he knew what that was.

Inside
her sitting room, Lily sat shaking. She drew a shallow breath into her paralyzed lungs. It had been an accident. Surely, it had been an accident. If only she had not mentioned the incident to Nanny and discovered how poisonous those berries were.

Who would wish her harm
? It was a preposterous question.

A tap on the door drew her attention
. Gertrude entered. “His grace suggested you might like a tray in your room. He thought that this afternoon’s events may have tired you.”

“Don’t worry
, I’ll go down.”

“Oh
, dear.” Even as Gertrude spoke a footman entered with the tray. “It never occurred that your wants would differ from his grace’s. We can take it back if you like, but . . .”

“But, what?”

“Well, Lady Smythe-Burke went to dinner with the vicar. And his grace has ridden out again. I am not sure where, but if you’d like to come down . . .”

“No, I
’d be pleased to eat here. His grace was correct. I am fatigued.”

Lily finished her meal in silence and spoke only briefly as the footmen took the
tray away. Even when Gertrude came to prepare her for bed, her words were few.

Why
did Arthur not come to inquire into the events of the afternoon? He must have questions. She lay in her bed letting this thought roll through her mind.

It seemed hours later when she heard the tread of feet in the hallway and
knew that Arthur had returned. She slipped from her solitary bed, grabbed her robe and walked to the adjoining door. Without a plan in mind, she tapped once and walked through.

Arthur stood gazing out into the darkness when the tap caught his attention. In his hand he held the brandy snifter he’d not yet filled. He’d spent the past hours in discussion with Sir Drake, his mind focused on his duchess and the troubles that seemed to follow her. All the magistrate had discovered was that there was still no sign of strangers in the area and that his witness had become suddenly mute. Still, the time was soon coming when he would need to know all Lily’s secrets.

The door creaked open slowly, betraying the unease of the hand behind it
. Lily entered almost stealthily. She was wrapped from toe to chin in a heavy wool robe, far different from the seductive concoction of their wedding night. She moved on tiptoes, dwarfed by the heavy furniture.

“I am very sorry to disturb you, Arthur
. I heard you come in. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Yes.
” Arthur tried to keep his tone even – a difficult feat as his mind filled with images of her velvet limbs spread across his sheets.

“I was wondering, could I . . . would you mind . . . if I slept in here, with you?”

Had she been too bold
? Lily hadn’t known what words she’d say until they sprang from her lips. She stood and waited his response, dreading rejection. The cold of the hardwood floor seeped upward. She hopped onto the thick Persian, hoping Arthur would ignore her bare toes.

Arthur gaped at her, his fingers curling around his empty glass
. He lifted it absently to his lips before realizing it was empty; then, startled, he replaced it on the bedside table.

“Why?”

Lily felt a shiver race down her spine and had to fight an urge to retreat to the sanctuary of her own bedchamber. She held her ground, curling her toes into the carpet and ignoring her drumming heart.

“I . . . slept so well
two nights ago. I haven’t slept like that in years. And I am your wife, am I not?”

Arthur’s eyes flashed, and he turned away, his lips drawn tight
. He didn’t meet her eyes as he answered.

“Of course
. The bed is certainly sufficient for both of us. It wouldn’t be any bother, as long as you don’t mind if I read a little before blowing out the light.”

He wanted to read
?

She should be grateful, but a knot of tension grew deep in her belly.
She scurried across the room and climbed into the high bed, her robe still wrapped tightly about her. Once ensconced among the pillows, she lay perfectly stiff and still. Oh, God in heaven, if only he would say something, she still wasn’t sure why she was here. Hearing no answer to her prayers, she curled on her side, facing away from him, knowing that sleep would elude her.

Arthur read until he heard the rhythm of her breathing grow soft and even. It had taken very long for her to ease into sleep – he must have read the same passage a hundred times while waiting. What was he to do? Was she really too innocent to know the temptation she had placed in his way?

As if his thoughts drew her to him, Lily rolled over in her sleep, her small hand stretching to rest on Arthur’s upper thigh
. He stirred at her touch. Her fingers began to softly stoke the light hairs dotting his leg, moving in ever more enchanting patterns. He wanted so badly to pull her into his arms, to press himself to her and seek release in her warm depths, but he was determined to give her the time to adjust to him before moving the relationship to a more intimate place.

Instead, he edged carefully towards the opposite perimeter of the bed
. His bed, which had always seemed so spacious, shrank by the second. The farther Arthur drifted towards the side, the closer Lily crept, until her entire body pressed firmly against his, burned against his. God help him. Every time Lily exhaled, her warm, moist breath moved across his body, awakening centers of pleasure he hadn’t even known existed.

“Mmmm, that’s lovely, so lovely to be warm,” Lily mumbled in her sleep, as her lips moved over the thin fabric draping Arthur’s chest
.

Arthur’s body
grew tense, full with desire. When Lily inched across the bed yet again, Arthur slipped from beneath the sheets. Cursing none too quietly, he settled in the large wingchair before the fire. He crossed his legs tightly, struggling against his desire to return to the bedstead and claim his bride. Any thought of a gradual wooing seemed absurd when he couldn’t bear Lily’s slightest touch without also craving her warmth, her taste, her very being. He had never known anything bordering on the fervor she awoke in him now.

“Ten, nine, eight, seven . . .
” Arthur let the numbers run through his head before starting again at a hundred. When that failed to dull his arousal, he filled his glass to the rim and prepared to empty the decanter.

Lily shifted restlessly in the great bed as the first strands of dawn raced across the sky. In her restlessness, she sought the warmth, the comfort that had surrounded her the night before. Finding nothing but cold sheets, she cautiously opened her eyes to the dim light.

She was alone again
. Disconsolate, she drew up in the bed, bending her knees and drawing them forward to hug. She wasn’t sure what she missed, but there was something.

Then she saw him, sprawled in the corner chair, his head thrown back and mouth gaping
. One empty bottle of brandy lay at his feet and a half-full one rested lightly in a flaccid hand.

She’d driven him to drink
. She shivered as the faint scent of brandy wafted over. She closed her eyes afraid of the images of drunken men that tickled at the edges of her mind giving rise to renewed nightmares. A lone tear began to trace its familiar path down her cheek. She curled back on her side and huddled at the edge of the bed.

Lily glanced around the long formal dining room. It still seemed silly to her to have the large room set only for her breakfast. Arthur had disappeared before she’d awakened, affording her no opportunity to discuss what had happened the day before. She feared his questions. She could not risk any inquiry of yesterday’s events being linked to the night her husband disappeared. At some point Arthur would start to wonder why the attackers had never been found, and that would lead him to question her part in that night’s happenings. How would he feel if he knew the truth?

“Lily . . . Lily, where are you?
” As if sensing her thoughts, Arthur strolled into the dining room, holding Simon firmly in his arms. He did not look as if he was about to start an inquisition.

“Is he hungry?
” Despite their marriage, it shocked Lily to see Arthur actually toting Simon around.

“Hungry
? Oh, no. It’s more important than that.”

Lily leaned back in her high wooden chair, forgetting the remains of her breakfast
. She soaked up the picture of Arthur, his face glowing, looking down with amazement at her son. At moments like this she could almost believe everything would be all right. She caught the knowing grin of the footman, as he finished clearing the breakfast dishes.

“What, then?”

“He can talk. Simon can talk.” Arthur glowed with pride.

Lily bit back a
nervous laugh. “Oh, he can talk, can he?”

“Yes, he said ‘hello’ when I came into the nursery
. He must be a most intelligent child.”

“Are you sure?”

Arthur pursed his lips in affront. “Of course I am sure. He most definitely said ‘hello.’ He knows me.”

“I do believe that he knows you
. He has a smile he saves just for you.” If Lily hadn’t been aware of Arthur’s fettered emotions she would have thought he was preening. “But language before he’s two months old?”

“He is plainly a most superior child
. Here, he shall demonstrate.” Arthur’s voice rang with confidence. “Say ‘hello’ to your mama, Simon.”

Simon gave a loud belch and a satisfied grin.

“Come, come. Say ‘hello’ to your mama. You can do it, boy.”

“Now, I daresay, you’re treating my son as a horse – or shall I say a pony?”

“No, no, he really can do this. I heard him myself, and I am not mistaken.”

Simon continued to grin
. Plainly he enjoyed being the center of attention.

“Please, Simon.”

Lily thought she must have misheard. Arthur couldn’t possibly be beseeching a baby.

Finally, as if responding to a delayed cue, Simon opened his clear, blue eyes wide and with only the slightest trace of
a further belch, sounded out, “Ellll … ooo.”

“There
. See? He did it. He can talk.”

Lily curved her lips up indulgently
. She couldn’t hide her amusement.

“Of course, he did, but do you think maybe he’s just making noises?”

“Definitely not. He’s clearly learned to talk. Why else would it sound like ‘hello’ when he sees his mama?”

Lily had her own ideas about the likelihood of Simon actually knowing what noises he made
. She’d spent a long time talking to Nanny about how babies grew, and Nanny had certainly never represented the possibility of speech at this age. Still, as Lily took in the warm glow that enveloped Arthur and her son, she did not wish to discourage him.

“He is a wonderful baby, isn’t he?”
she replied.

Arthur turned to her with a smile and their eyes locked
. Suddenly tension filled the air, and butterflies flickered through her stomach.

Lily watched as Arthur’s attention moved from the baby in his arms to her mouth
. She found herself licking her lips nervously as he moved closer. Her hands clenched the arms of the chair as he lowered his head.

She felt powerless as he lightly brought his mouth within inches of hers
. He paused there briefly, staring deep into her eyes, before lightly laying his lips across her own. His warmth struck her first. Then the sweet taste of coffee and jam pervaded her senses, followed by the faintest scent of tobacco and leather.