Persuasion (27 page)

that was more difficult than she imagined.

Lily knew that she wasn't perfect and had never shown any pretense in

suggesting that she was, for it would have been a bed of lies were she to

infer anything of the like. But she did not deserve this, she knew that much.

She was flawed. She made mistakes, grievous ones that at times, had hurt

others. But it was never intentionally, never with vindictiveness in her heart.

For it wasn't in her nature to be as malicious as the man who had so cruelly

ruptured any hope she had for the future. Who had, in one hand, shown her

who her soul mate actually was and then, taken him away with the other.

She was like every other human being on this earth. Be they from a high or

a low rank. She made mistakes as did the rest of the human race, but Lily

did not, and had never, deserved a punishment of this nature.

It simply wasn't fair, she thought on a gurgled sigh.

And yet, unfortunately for Lily, she was not a babe whose rattle had been

snatched out of her hands.

Lily could not sob and cry and scream her rage. She had to simply sit in the

carriage, her hands curled into the cushions, white and tense from the anger

she was trying to contain, as she rocked, unawares, back and forth to calm

herself.

The fact that her anger could not be spent was more detrimental than she

could ever imagine. Something about tonight, something about their

conversation . . . it felt almost final when it should have been the beginning.

Her stomach cramped at the thought, but it was how she felt regardless of

whether or not she actually wanted to feel that way!

Love. It was an emotion she had only recently come to understand, and,

from her short experience with it, Lily knew that she and her mother were

fabricated from the same mold. Before, she had pitied her mother and the

loss she felt, been saddened at the loss of her mama's spirit. Now, now she

understood.

And Lily knew that were she to lose the love of her life, as her mother had,

then she too would react in a similar fashion.

To lose the other half of one's soul . . . it was more than devastating. It was

so destructive that Lily respected her mama all the more for having

survived. To love in this way was not pleasant, was not easy, but it was the

way of it, instant, instinctive, and intensely absorbing. There was no

escaping it, no dodging this particular blow. And while it had the makings of

an ending to a Brothers Grimm fairy story, she could only hope it was to the

contrary, that her love was not thrown back at her, that he accepted her

warts and all and loved her enough to share his life.

It seemed like hopeless conjecture, but a woman could wish, could she not?

When she had spoken of love to Dorian earlier on, her words had come

directly from her heart. They hadn't been a speech she'd constructed to

follow her blackmailer's orders. Seduction was one thing, but actually lying

to the man who owned a half of her soul? No. She simply couldn't do that.

And so, as she'd stolen away into the night, literally ripped herself out of his

arms for to leave had been so painful, anger had rushed through her. Anger

and distress and rage for what she should have and what in reality, she had

been given.

Her eyes stared at the carriage wall and she wished to God that she had the

right to demand the coachman turn the damned vehicle around and blatantly

walk into Dorian's house. Be legally his and free to declare to the ton that

she was his as he was hers. To say freely that she was his wife and he, her

husband and damn the consequences.

But she couldn't.

She had to love him and leave him.

Love and leave.

Lily shook her head at the thought and was jolted as the rocking carriage

came to an abrupt halt.

Suddenly, a sensation of utter desolation and deflation overcame her. She

sank against the cushions and waited for the door to the coach to open and

her nemesis to jump in.

Nemesis. She pondered the word and decided that it fit perfectly. For what

was he if not her enemy? Although, if her mythology was correct, Nemesis

had been the goddess of vengeance. Perhaps, ergo, she should be classed as

Nemesis, for she fully intended to learn of her blackmailer's identity and put

him through the hell he had forced her to endure.

Uncertainty washed through her. Her rage was at a climax and yet, now that

she shared this tight space with a man who had the potential to commit

murder, Lily felt like a coward for not jumping forward and attacking him

with her bare hands.

Did he not deserve to be treated thusly?

He did indeed and yet she did not have courage to do anything of the like.

Instead, Lily said nothing as he jumped in and settled opposite her and

hesitated over answering him at all, when he spoke.

“You were there longer tonight.”

Finally, after silence seemed to reign in the tiny confines of the carriage and

an uncomfortable abyss seemed to open between them. "Yes. I would not

have believed that it would cause you any concern! Is it not after all what

you most want?” she spat.

He tsked. “Calm down. It was merely a question, Lady Lily.”

She flushed. "It was not simply a question. Your mind is filthy and no doubt

loaded with insinuations that mine cannot even begin to comprehend! If you

wish to ask me something, then ask. I cannot stop you. But do not hedge! It

is most irritating,” she hissed.

“It seems you have grown claws, my lady,” he said dryly.

“You are quite fortunate that in the literal sense I have not. If I did possess

claws then you would indeed be blind at this very moment. Either that or

your lifeblood would be spewing out of hundreds of open wounds.”

She felt him ponder her words and flinched, when finally he spoke again.

“You need despise me no longer. You can focus your hatred on some other

fool. Tonight is the last time I shall ask you for your . . . assistance. That

should please you . . . should it not?”

Her heart ceased to beat. Her lungs ceased to pump air. Her mind ceased all

thought processes. A cold chill caressed her, and she shivered slightly. Was

this how it felt to die? Every bodily functioning coming to a halt, freezing as

life poured out of it?

“The last time?” she asked, her voice a whisper. Why was she not content,

ridiculously, marvelously happy to be free from this man's poisonous

presence?

“Indeed. You are to never speak with him again, do you understand?”

“N-Never speak with him again? You cannot mean it? We are in the same

circle! It is impossible to think that we will never be able to communicate.

There would be talk!”

“There can be talk- so long as it is not between the Earl and yourself . . .

And do not think to argue!”

She ignored that. “But it's not possible! Be reasonable! Please, sir!” she

cried.

“Oh, it is indeed very possible and quite reasonable. At least, I believe it to

be, especially in the circumstances . . . . Do you wish your mother's life to

be cut short, all because you wanted a cozy chitchat with your lover? I am

quite capable of it, you know . . . murder, that is,” he added conversationally

and waited for that to penetrate her numbed senses. “Indeed, we all share

the same circle. I shall be able to monitor you and your interactions with the

Earl in the future.”

“I-I . . . .” For a moment, she was speechless. “You can't do this,” she

whispered.

“I think you will find that I can.”

“But I love him. I love him,” she murmured hoarsely.

“I do not care, my lady. You can love him all you want, but there is to be no

further contact between the two of you. As capable as I am of murder, I am

equally capable of running to the Earl and explaining why you decided to set

your cap at him. I'm sure he'll be perturbed enough to listen and believe.

After all, why should a beauty such as yourself even be interested in a

moping, whining bastard such as he? He will easily believe me.”

“You can't do that. You can't!”

“Again, my lady, I can. I fear that you are not listening so I shall plainly

state: you are to never meet or speak with the Earl again or I shall tell him

the truth. If you love him . . . ,” he added mockingly, “then you do not wish

to cause him further pain!”

“He would suffer either way. He loves me. I know he does!” she protested,

her voice breaking.

“Even better,” he said, issuing a nasty laugh. “I can only thank you for

sharing that pertinent fact, for it means that I was correct to think so low of

the Earl's standards. It seems he falls in love as easily as a puppy seeks its

mother's teat. Would you care to know a secret, Lady Lily?”

Lily frowned in the darkness. A secret? Was this some kind of joke? If it was,

then she wasn't sure she could stand it. She had never before realized how

difficult it was to breathe. How hard it was to suck in air and then blow out.

Shaking her head, she opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted.

“Well?” he barked. “Do you?”

“I-I, yes. I suppose.”

“Your mother was never in any danger.”

“No! You said . . . you said . . . ,” Lily cried, sucking in a breath in dismay.

“I know what I said.”

She could plainly hear his enjoyment and hated him all the more for taking

such pleasure in her sorrow and pain. “But . . . but . . . .”

“My intention was for that weakling to fall in love with you, and he did. In

fact, my plan worked perfectly, and I suppose I have you to thank for

Dorian's destruction.”

There was a silence, a short pause, and she knew, just knew, that he was

grinning. Hatred roared through her. “Destruction? Why?” she gasped, her

anger leaving her breathless.

“He has something that belongs to me.”

“What? Dear God! What could he possess to make you want to destroy

him?”

“Now that is another secret and one that I'm not willing to share at this

moment.”

“You bastard. You absolute bastard! Leave him alone, you hear! Leave him

be. Has he not suffered enough?”

“Now, now, Lady Lily, such language does not become you, and, in answer

to your question, no, not nearly enough.”

“Many things don't become me and what you have put me through . . . is so

unbelievably evil, I cannot quite comprehend it. Nothing, nothing Dorian

might have done would make me believe he deserved to be hurt in such a

manner! It wouldn't surprise me if you were in cahoots with the devil

himself, for he could not be more evil were he to even try!”

There was a faint snigger. “Do cease your babbling, Lady Lily. I, for one, do

not possess adequate time for such useless lectures. I am only pleased that

in your innocence you thought me so perfectly evil that I would be foolish

enough to kill a dowager Marchioness of the British Isles! How does it feel to

be the fool, to be the pawn?”

“I hate you.”

“You may hate me all you wish. It does not change what has already been

written in the stars.”

“You've always intended to tell him, haven't you?” she whispered, lifting a

hand to cover her trembling mouth as the realization came to her. Dorian

was vulnerable, she knew that. Were this bastard to speak of things, make

Dorian believe that she . . . well, it would break his heart. She knew it.

When he eventually replied to her stuttered question, it was cruelly

delivered. She did not require the affirmative laugh to know that she had

forever lost Dorian, not if this man had anything to do with it!

“Indeed. Another Camille to break his heart, only this time, what with the

delightful secretiveness . . . he will be even more hurt. Especially as

everything you offered him was freely given. That does not occur often in

this society. I can only thank you, Lady Lily, for making it so much easier for

me to break him. And I take it you do know who Camille is? I assume he

bored you to tears with their story?”

“Why? Why are you doing this?” she gasped, having no choice but to ignore

his questions as pain rushed through her chest and cramped her stomach.

She knew that were the ride to not come to a halt and soon, she would

vomit. Nausea plagued her and on its heels came sorrow and pain even

more powerful than the physical ailment.

“I have already told you that I do not wish you to know, Lady Lily. Please,

listen to me while I am speaking, for I do not enjoy repeating myself.”

“How could you do this to me? How could you force me into this situation

and let me love him? There has to be a reason! There has to be something

you can tell me!” she cried and leaned forward to clutch at him. Her hand

caught on his knee and she managed to catch his hand. She tugged it

fiercely, her distress giving her strength, and he was jolted forwards into the

slight glimmer of moonlight that entered the carriage through the window.

For a second, perhaps even shorter than that, she saw the man who was

destroying everything she had ever dreamed of. Recognition did not follow,

but her eyes imprinted that almost-handsome visage on to her retina and

she knew that were she to see him again, she would instantly know him. The