My Fair Lily (32 page)

She nodded. “He had the pistol aimed at your back. I didn’t think about it, just shoved at him with all my might. He still struck you, though.”

“As I said, a mere flesh wound. Thank you, lass. You saved my life.”

She burrowed more deeply against him, rested her cheek against his chest. “As you saved mine. And I didn’t even need my hat pin.” Her fingers fumbled into the stained sash of her gown and drew out the long, thin metal for his inspection. “Look, it’s right here.”

“Hold on to it. You may still need it. I’m not sure if the Bow
Street runners have secured his accomplices.”

He needn’t have worried. Homer and his men did their jobs, capturing all five accomplices, two of whom were shot and seriously injured. The other three were trussed up like Christmas geese about to be roasted over a fire. Homer had moved their prisoners into the
house and George was working on the two wounded culprits as
Ewan marched in. “Jasper’s guarding Ashton. He’s in the woods.”

Mick, a burly man with a leathery face that reflected the wear
and
tear of a hard life, moved to the door. “I’ll take care of that fancy
cove.”

For a moment, Ewan wasn’t quite certain what Mick meant to do, but these were trained Bow Street runners and not heartless killers. “Here, take this rope,” Homer said. “Tie him up like the others. We’ll haul his dismal arse to London along with them other
knaves. Don’t want to be dealin’ with no Maidstone magistrate beholden to the Mortimer family.”

Ewan told Mick where to find him, silently praying that Jasper hadn’t let the bastard slip away. The dog was a playful beast used to herding harmless sheep, not deranged blackguards.

George shot Lily a smile filled with relief.

Ewan could see that George wanted to drop his medical
instruments
and swallow his niece in his arms, but he had blood all over his hands and was still working on one of those injured men. “Lily, are you hurt?”

“No, Uncle George. I’m fine. Just a little cold and hungry, that’s all.”

He nodded. “Can you stand on your own?”

She wrapped her arms securely around Ewan’s neck. “Yes, but I’m quite comfortable just where I am.”

Ewan laughed. “Good, because I’m not putting you down until I have you safely back with your family.”

And he didn’t. He held her while Homer and Mick prepared to ride off with Ashton and his knaves, and while he made arrangements for George and Bert to remain behind with the injured
men. Holding Lily
felt so right, as though she’d become a part of him... as though something important would be missing in his life without her. The
feeling went
beyond mere physical pleasure, though her body perfectly molded to the planes of his body. It was as though they were two pieces of a
puzzle perfectly fitting together to complete it.

Within hours, Homer would report to the Farthingale family and bring reinforcements to assist George and Bert with those injured men. Within hours, he’d be facing the Farthingale family as well. That left him little time to figure out what to do about Lily. She was a forever sort of girl. He wasn’t thinking beyond the next two months. She felt perfect and right just now. Would he feel this way forever?

He gazed at Lily. Though she put on a brave face for her uncle, he knew she was still scared and shivering, not to mention exhausted and hungry. She’d never make it to London in her present
state even if the weather turned warm and sunny, which it wasn’t going to if the red sky at dawn was any indication. Noticing her frown, he told Lily of the inn they’d passed about an hour’s ride north of Maidstone.

“A hot meal, warm bath, and a few hours’ rest? Sounds
heavenly.” She let out a breathy sigh that lit him up like a furnace.

He’d be alone with her at the inn. A stupid, dangerous idea. Anything could happen. Something
would
happen, because she was a lit match to his tinder. She set him on fire with a mere glance. She
was
doing it right now, looking fragile and beautiful, swallowed up in his jacket and her small hand still gripping the hat pin. “Ewan, there’s something I must show you before we leave this awful
place.” Her lips were pursed and her brow adorably furrowed in the way it furrowed whenever she concentrated her attention on something complicated. Never him. He wasn’t that complicated for her.

She was one hell of a complication for him.

Reluctantly, he set her down and followed her to the cellar, but made certain to keep hold of her. She was still weak and wobbling on her feet. That he wanted to touch her,
needed
to touch her was of
no moment. He was thinking only of her. Not of his damn male urges.

She pointed to a row of crates stacked along one of the cellar walls. “Some of these are filled with gunpowder. What use would
Ashton have for such a large store?”

“I don’t know.” He opened a few of them and let out a long, low whistle. “There’s enough powder here to level an entire building.”

“Look, there are numbers stamped on each crate. Four, five, six, seven.” Her lips pursed again.

“What’s troubling you, lass?”

She looked up to meet his gaze. “Where are crates one, two, and three?”

***

Ewan wasn’t going to think about anything other than getting Lily safely home. After that, he’d deal with the crates of gunpowder. Likely they’d been stolen from a local armory. Those numbered one,
two, and three were probably still there, safely under lock and key. “I’ll ask Edgeware to investigate the matter once we’re back in
London. This is the sort of inquiry best left to his discreet efficiency.”

“I suppose. Even if Ashton did steal them, he’s safely in Mr. Barrow’s custody and unable to cause more mischief.”

Ewan could see the matter still troubled her despite his assurances that it would be resolved. That’s how Lily’s brain
worked, noticing
problems and dwelling on them until she’d worked them out. Not just small problems, but the great unknowns of life. Had she always been this way? Even as a little girl? Would their children be just like
Lily?

He took a deep breath. Bloody hell. Marriage and children. He wasn’t ready for any of it. Were all dominant male baboons this
cowardly? Did baboons think this hard about commitment and procreation? Or did the dominant male just stick his pole wherever he found an opening, giving no thought to the consequences?

He led Lily back upstairs. As he closed the cellar door behind them, Jasper came bounding down the hall, heading straight for Lily in a great, furry ball of excitement, his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth and tail wagging furiously. Having been relieved of
guarding Ashton, the dog’s first thought was to find Lily. Not that Ewan blamed him. Lily had a way of getting into one’s heart... or
under one’s fur, in Jasper’s case.

Lily let out a squeal of delight and knelt down to greet him. She gave him a fierce hug, burying herself in his damp fur. “My hero! I knew you’d find me. I never doubted for a moment.”

“Wrooolf! Wrawooolf!”

“Oh, you missed me?” She scratched Jasper behind the ears, and he went from mere dog happiness to dog-in-ecstasy happy. “You were worried about me? Worried that the bad man would hurt me before you reached me? What a good, brave dog!”

Ewan was jealous. Pathetic. Jealous of his own, damn dog. But Lily’s hands were all over that furry beast, her breasts pressed
against his thick
coat, and all Ewan could think of was having Lily’s hands all over him,
and having his hands all over Lily’s breasts. Right. He wasn’t complicated.

He wanted Lily.

***

The two of them left Sparrow Hall the moment George finished
patching up his shoulder. The damage turned out to be a flesh wound after all, the bullet merely grazing him so there was nothing to dig out. Within the rain-drenched hour, they reached the inn he’d noticed on his way to Maidstone. It looked cozier and more
charming by daylight, or
what passed for daylight amid the gloom of rain and black, rolling thunderclouds. The innkeeper ran out to greet them, fussing over them as they hurried inside. “We ran into a little trouble,” Ewan
said, not quite a lie. “I’m Lord Carnach.”

“We’re honored to have ye with us, m’lord. Look at ye, all cold
and wet. I’ve got a fire started. Come into the parlor and keep yerselves warm while the maids ready yer chamber. Ye’ll have our finest.”

“We’ll be needing food. And a hot bath for—”

“Aye, poor dear. We’ll take good care of yer lovely wife.” The innkeeper glanced at Lily, who had her chin up and was doing her
best to smile, but her lips were blue and she was noticeably
shivering. She had dark circles under her eyes which she had trouble keeping open because she was so obviously exhausted.

Had she heard the innkeeper refer to her as his wife?

Probably not, he decided when she made no move to correct his mistake. All the better. He had no intention of leaving her side, not
even for a moment. He carried Lily into the parlor. Jasper settled himself beside the hearth and immediately fell asleep. Ewan didn’t have the heart to wake him. He ordered water and a juicy bone for him to chew on once the big lump awoke. That would keep him
content for a while. He also arranged for a messenger to deliver a note to Lily’s father assuring him of Lily’s safety and telling him where they were. Lily was in desperate shape. She needed food, warmth, and sleep. A few hours delay in reaching London wouldn’t matter.

The creak of floorboards overhead meant the inn was coming to life. The other guests were beginning to stir, and Ewan didn’t want
Lily seen. Fortunately, their room was quickly made ready, and he
and Lily were settled in before any prying eyes fell upon them. Within
moments, the efficient staff had delivered warm bread, jam, tea, additional blankets, a lavender soap, and a tub that they quickly
filled with buckets of heated water.

One of the maids asked if she should stay to assist Lily. Ewan was about to accept the offer when Lily shot him a desperate glance. “No, my husband will take care of me.”

He thanked the maid, dismissed her, and latched the door before
turning to Lily, his body once again on fire at the thought of what would come next. Lily had heard his exchange with the innkeeper after all. Did she understand the import of her words? They’d be
alone while she stripped out of her clothes, while she stepped naked into the tub and rubbed soap all over her soft, silken body. He let out a tortured groan. “I’ll turn my back while you undress and get into the tub.”

She nodded, but didn’t move.

“Lass, do you want me to leave the room?”

“No,” she said in a ragged whisper. “I need you, Ewan. Right
here, with me. I feel safe when I’m with you.”

But not safe
from
him. She stirred his blood. She roused his hunger. He wanted to feel her skin against his palms, taste her
against his mouth. He turned away. This was a bad idea. He was no gentleman. Lily was every inch a lady. “Lass, I should go.”

“Ewan, my hands are shaking. I can’t feel my fingers. I can’t undress myself. You’ll have to do it for me. You don’t have to close
your eyes. I
don’t wish to hide anything from you.” He heard her sniffle. More tears? “I thought I was going to die in that cellar... or worse, that
those men would do something so horrible to me that I’d wish to die.”

He turned to face her. In two strides, he had her in his arms. “Come, sweetheart. No nasty thoughts. I’m here for you. I’ll take care of you.” He held her until her tears subsided, dying a little
inside each time she gazed at him with a lingering fear in her eyes. Not of him. It was fear from her ordeal.

When she’d calmed a little, he helped her out of her damp gown. The silk slid softly down her body as she stepped out of it.

He knelt beside her and rolled the stockings off her legs. First the
right, then the left, all the while his fingers on her skin. A very bad idea. It took all his control to keep from sliding his hands between
her shapely thighs and claiming her with his mouth. All that now stood between him and her naked body was a thin camisole. She didn’t stop him as he slipped it off her slender frame.

He understood how she felt, knew what she was feeling. It was
as though no one else existed in the world but the two of them. Not two strangers thrown together by circumstance. They were two missing
parts of a whole, meant for each other. Unable to exist without each other. “Lily, lass.” His voice was a raw, raspy whisper. “You’re so beautiful.”

“So are you, Ewan.” She moved out of his arms. He heard the gentle lap of water as she eased into the tub. “Oh, the soap is on the table.”

She was killing him. He let out a ragged breath. “I’ll get it for you.”

He tried not to look at her naked body. Failed miserably.
Couldn’t
take his eyes off her. He handed her the soap. Still looking at her. Eyeballs
practically pasted to her breasts. She didn’t reach for the soap. “Will you help me, Ewan?”

She was killing him slowly and painfully. “If you wish.”

“I do.” She lifted her long, dark curls off her pale, white
shoulders. “I like the way you look at me.”