Scoundrel (16 page)

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” His breathing sounded rough. Her head seemed to move of its own accord, back and forth so that his lips brushed across her ear. He caught the lobe between his teeth and bit gently. She shuddered against him. “Tell me to stop, Lily. Now, while I can.”

Lily sighed. She loved his voice, the dark, forbidden emotions it stirred in her. Tonight she felt like a different person, the woman she might be if the war had ended years ago, before she became involved in the War Department. That Lily would be free to pursue her dreams, to encourage the attentions of the man who held her heart from the moment she first saw him. She wouldn’t be forced to steal his affections, knowing he felt nothing more for her than lust.

His lips traced the curve of her ear as he caressed her shoulder. When his hand brushed across her breast, she felt a startling moment of panic. Was she truly so desperate for his embrace that she would let him use her? She would simply be another of his conquests, a woman he would barely recall in a few months. The ache in her heart spread until it was almost unbearable. He was right. They shouldn’t be doing this. The fire in her died a sudden death.

When he gripped the back of her neck and urged her toward the pillows, she cried out from surprise more than from pain. Remmington’s gaze flew to her neck and he quickly released his grip and slipped his arm around her shoulders.

“God, Lily, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

He tried to touch her bruised throat but she managed to push him away, to slide off his lap and onto the bed. He looked like he wanted to comfort her. His comforting got her into this mess in the first place. Words began to tumble from her mouth faster than she could think.

“You shouldn’t be here. This isn’t at all proper. You said yourself that we could be nothing more than friends, and now you’ve broken your word. I don’t see how you expect me to follow all your rules when you can’t manage them yourself. I think you should leave now.”

Remmington stared at her as if she’d turned into a curiosity. His worried expression disappeared. He lowered his head and released a long, deep sigh, then another, as if he were trying to catch his breath after some great exertion. He didn’t even glance her way when he said, “Stop staring at me as if I’d just slapped you.”

She busied herself by untangling the sheets and pulling them up to her chin.

He shifted his weight to sit on the edge of the bed and braced his hands against his knees. “Damn it, Lily. I am not entirely at fault.” He raked one hand through his hair. “I had no intentions of kissing you when I came in here. You are the one who constantly puts my rules to the test.”

Lily felt her mouth drop open. “Are you saying that I am somehow responsible?”

His expression said the answer was obvious. “It’s the way you look at me. That has to stop.”

She glared up at him, the shame and embarrassment she felt just moments ago forgotten. “How dare you lay the blame at my feet! I didn’t ask you to kiss me.”

He said nothing. He didn’t have to. She read the truth in his eyes.

“Why, you arrogant—”

“You must admit that your reaction was hardly that of an outraged innocent,” he cut in. “We are in a strange situation, one that calls for proper behavior and discretion. A woman who didn’t plan to find herself compromised would show an abundance of both. If it is your intention to keep tempting me this way to deliberately compromise yourself, then you should know that I will not feel obliged to repair the damage by making an offer of marriage.”

“You think I planned what happened tonight?”

He shrugged indifferently. “Let’s just say that young women with romantic fantasies are prone to reckless behavior.”

“I see.” She sat up and crossed her arms. “You may have a point. Asking you to dance with me the night of the Ashlands’ ball was extremely reckless behavior on my part. Humiliating me in front of a roomful of people was the least you could do to show me the errors of my ways, but I stubbornly refused to learn my lesson. Next I contrived to have you sneak onto the balcony where you could overhear my conversation with Sophie and humiliate me further. Clever planning, was it not?”

“You are deliberately—”

“Of course it was. I am simply full of plots where you are concerned. Arranging an attack in my home was the crowning jewel in my elaborate scheme. How better to play upon your sympathies? Knowing how you must pity me, I then coerced your butler into bringing me here so I could insinuate myself into your household. Now I have every opportunity to compromise myself.” She shook her head. “How very unfortunate that you saw through my plan. I thought that having a nightmare was a rather novel way to bring you into my room uninvited in the middle of the night. And, of course, I knew you would feel obliged to kiss me senseless.”

She gasped and feigned a look of concern as she waved one hand toward the armoire. “Pray do not open the wardrobe, Your Grace. My father is hiding in there so he can spring forward and demand marriage the moment I’m compromised.”

Remmington regarded her in silence. There was no longer any passion in his eyes, and a muscle twitched in one cheek in an almost rhythmic movement. “I see no need for sarcasm.”

“Am I being sarcastic?” Lily shrugged, then turned her hand over to examine her nails. “How very rude.”

“All right, I’ll admit that I am as much to blame as you for what happened tonight.”

Lily made a clicking sound with her tongue. “My, what a difficult admission. Was it painful?”

“Must you be so deliberately obtuse?”

“I resent your insult, sir. My figure is not at all obtuse.”

Remmington threw his hands into the air. “That’s it. I refuse to have this conversation. We can continue this discussion tomorrow, or whenever you decide to come to your senses.” He turned and walked to the adjoining door.

“I will expect your apology first, Remmington.” He ignored the ultimatum. “Goodnight, Lily.” “
Goodnight
!”

“Your Grace?”

Remmington rolled to the other side of his bed without opening his eyes. He hoped Digsby would go away. The taste of stale liquor was an unpleasant reminder of the previous evening. Taking the edge off his anger with a decanter of brandy hadn’t been the wisest idea, he decided. Last night he’d returned from Lily’s room as aroused as he was infuriated. First she threw herself into his arms, then she took him beyond the limits of his control,
then
she told him to leave. She couldn’t have any idea how long it took him to summon the willpower to consider that suggestion. He’d warned her that he wouldn’t be able to stop. So he’d been a little irrational. After all but inviting him into her bed, why had she found his anger so surprising?

By his third or fourth glass of brandy, his temper had cooled enough that he realized what an ass he’d made of himself. Lily hadn’t set out to seduce him, yet he’d accused her of far worse. She was right. He owed her an apology. If he somehow managed to restore their relationship to good terms, the same thing might very well happen again. No, he decided, the next time he wouldn’t be content with a few kisses. The next time he would touch her. Everywhere. With his hands, his mouth, his body. God, he still ached for her. In the cold light of…

He cracked open one eye, nearly blinded himself in the glaring light, then immediately snapped it shut.

Noon
. It must be at least
noon
. He pushed aside thoughts of Lily for the moment, hoped he could ignore his pounding headache long enough to escape back into painless sleep. He felt a hand nudge his shoulder.

“Forgive me for waking you, Your Grace, but I think you will consider the situation important.”

He slapped away Digsby’s hand. “What situation?”

“It’s Lady Lillian, Your Grace. She’s in the library.”

“You’re mistaken,” he said groggily. “Told her to stay out of there.”

“I suspected as much, and even mentioned the same to her ladyship, but I can assure you that she is there now.”

“I doubt she’ll get into anything. My desk is locked. I’ll have a talk with her at dinner.” He turned onto his stomach and buried his head beneath his pillow. “Now go away.”

“Dinner is nearly ten hours away, Your Grace. I, ah, ahem. I think you should know that she is going through the bookcases.”

Remmington lay very still for a moment, then he bolted upright. The room swayed dangerously for a moment, but he threw back the covers and sprang from the bed. “Did she find it?”

Digsby handed him a pair of trousers. “Not yet, but I feel certain it is only a matter of time. She’s been in there almost an hour, and she seems intent on examining every volume.”

Remmington stopped dressing with one foot stuck halfway in his pants leg. “Good God, Digsby. What happened to your face?”

Digsby touched his blackened eye with careful fingers, then grimaced through swollen lips. “Lady Lillian, Your Grace.”

Remmington stared at him. “She struck you?”

“No, my lord. You really should make haste to the library. There is no telling what that lady is about.”

Remmington nodded, and resumed dressing. “After I take care of Lady Lillian, I expect a more thorough answer to my question.”

At that moment, Lily was thinking how good it felt to unload the shelves, to turn Remmington’s library into a fraction of the chaos he’d made of her life. That morning she woke up hurt and angry, ready to make him pay for every hateful thing he’d said to her the night before. With no clear thoughts of how to accomplish that plan, the idea to vandalize his library seemed inspired. If she were at all lucky, maybe, just maybe, he would agree to let her leave. She’d settle for getting kicked out.

Digsby had paced constantly as she riffled through the books, using polite banality to argue against what she was doing. He finally retreated when he realized he couldn’t sway her from the task. There wasn’t a question in her mind that he intended to inform his employer. She almost looked forward to the confrontation, the opportunity to vent just a portion of her anger.

A spindly chair served as a ladder when she moved to the upper shelves. She carefully tossed down two small books, then her fingers latched onto a large book that swung away from the bookcase rather than sliding out. The book’s spine was attached to five other wide volumes, each of the spines sliced about an inch deep so they would appear normal on the shelf. The false spines concealed a small, square compartment stuffed with parchments. Curious, she withdrew the one closest to her. With her balance precarious at best, she nearly fell over when she unfolded the paper. The nonsensical words were a variation of the Vigenère Tableau, an encoding system favored by the French.