Summers, Jordan (21 page)

Chapter Nine

The next morning Lily awoke to red, puffy eyes and
ultra pale skin. Tildy entered her room and gasped.

“My lady, you must rest. I fear you’re coming down with
something. It is well past the luncheon hour.”

Lily stared at Tildy for a few moments waiting for her
words to register in her foggy mind. She was numb inside, unable to feel even
the tiniest fragment of pain. She glanced out the window. The sun peeked
through the heavy navy curtains. Normally a day like today would lift Lily’s spirits
greatly, but not now, not ever again. She pushed back the coverlet and reached
for her robe.

Tildy gasped, her gaze locked onto the blood staining
the linens.

Lily grimaced. “I injured myself last night.” The maid’s
eyes widened. “‘Tis of no import, I’m fine. Tildy, please run me a bath and
ready my travel gown.”

Tildy frowned, her gaze narrowing before bustling off
to do as she was bid.

Thirty minutes later Lily sat in a hot bath with a
sponge in her hands. The steaming water felt good against her aching muscles,
releasing some of the tension from her exhausted body. She’d considered every
word her father had uttered and came to the same conclusion she’d reached last
night.

She squeezed out the sponge, water sluiced down her
chest and over her sensitive nipples. They beaded instantly. Lily closed her
eyes against a moan, her body remembering the way Richard had suckled and laved
her puckered crests. She soaked the sponge again and repeated her previous
action. Lily gasped, as her nipples budded. She circled the sponge around her
peaks, rasping first one then the other. Her body heated. The ache she’d always
felt when around Richard sprang to life between her thighs. Last night he’d
driven his cock so deep inside her core, he’d shattered her need, yet today it
was back with a vengeance.

Lily sat back, her lips parting on their own accord.
She listened, straining to hear footsteps in the hall, signaling Tildy’s
arrival. No sound came. The fire in the hearth warmed the room, lending heat to
her already inflamed skin. Pain gripped her heart like a vise as her body
remembered Richard’s skilled touch. Lily lowered the sponge to the place that
he’d so lovingly ministered to last night. When the material scraped her hidden
pearl, the air rushed from Lily’s lungs. Blood began to pound in her head,
drowning out all sound. She pressed down, sending rioting sensations through
her body.

She moved over the tender flesh, her fingers tangling
in the curls. Lily’s breath seized for a moment as the familiar pressure
coiled. She sped up her movements, her lungs heaving in rhythm with her hand.
Every muscle felt as if it were stretched taut, ready to break. A moan passed
her lips, as shivering darts of pleasure lanced through her. She wriggled
trying to push herself over the edge. Her nipples jutted proudly on the surface
of the water. A buzzing noise started in the back of her mind and Lily cried
out jackknifing up in the bath as her climax slammed into her.

In her mind she could see Richard’s massive cock
sinking into her moist opening. Mahogany hair pulling free from his queue, as
she burrowed her fingers in his silky strands. His pink tongue darting out,
wetting his bottom lip a second before he claimed her mouth. The coppery-mint
taste of his kisses as he probed her recesses. His firm lips latched onto her
proud peaks. Lily blinked trying to dispel the images.

There was no use thinking about such things, not after
today, not ever. Holding firm to her resolve, she would go to his house on
Jermyn Street, no matter how inappropriate and speak with him whether he cared
to or not. Tildy entered a short time later and helped Lily dress.

“Has my father surfaced from his apartments yet?” Lily
asked, unconcerned whether he had or not. She would not be swayed from the path
she’d chosen.

“No, my lady. He called for a tray, which was taken up
about an hour or so ago and then asked not to be disturbed.”

Lily stared at her maid. “Very well, if he rises later
and asks where I’m at, tell him I’m going to settle the business arrangement we
spoke of last night.”

Tildy frowned, her brows furrowing.

“He’ll know of what I speak,” Lily said firmly, then
slipped on her pelisse. “Have a hackney waiting out front for me in ten
minutes.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Her voice
pleaded.

Lily paused. “I’m not sure of anything anymore.”

“Does this concern Lord Lyon?”

Lily grimaced.

Tildy gasped. “He seemed like a nice gentleman. I mean
he did propose and all even after he found out you had no dowry.” She bit her
lip and reached for her handkerchief.

Lily swallowed hard, fighting back fresh tears. “I’m
afraid appearances have deceived us both.”

“Oh, my lady,” Tildy sniffed. “Are you certain?”

Lily nodded.

“Well then, he deserves to be horse whipped, he does.”
Tildy wiped at her eyes, then bobbed a curtsy and left the room.

Lily glanced once more in her mirror, rechecking her
appearance. Her gown was of deep blue muslin, threaded with silver ribbons to
add sparkle. It had been designed for soirees, but would not stand out too much
in the light of day. She wore a matching set of silver jewels in her ears and
around her throat, the glowing color setting off the fire in her eyes. Slippers
of the same hue wrapped her feet comfortably.

She shouldn’t care if she looked acceptable or not, but
she did. Richard would take one look at her and realize what a treasure he’d
lost, and that would suit her just fine. She wanted him to hurt as much as she
hurt. It wouldn’t be fair otherwise. How dare he visit a whore, before coming
to her. A true gentleman probably would have, but a man who truly cared about
her wouldn’t have done such a thing.

Lily imagined Richard’s hands on the other woman,
wrapping her in his sensual embrace, while his cock delved inside her willing
body. Her lungs seized and pain sliced through her once again. Perhaps he didn’t
consider her woman enough. Lily humphed, she’d show him. Her heart thudded in
her chest, a slow melancholy rhythm that refused to lift.

Lily descended the stairs, navy kid gloves and bonnet
in hand. She slipped the bonnet on her head as she hit the last step. Sims
threw the door wide and bid her good day, following behind her. The hackney
parked out front as ordered. A sorrel pawed at the ground impatiently while the
driver awaited his fare. Lily slipped her gloves on as she approached the
transport.

“Where to my lady?” the driver called out from his
perch.

“
Jermyn Street
,
number six.”

“Beggin’ your pardon, my lady,” the butler stammered
his eyes wide in disbelief.

“You heard me.” Lily glanced at Sims then back at the
driver, hoping her cheeks didn’t glow red under his gaze.

“Yes, my lady.”

Lily stepped up into the hackney with the help of Sims.
He closed the door once she had seated herself, and then strode back to the
house. The leather bench smelled of old cigars and sour drink. Lily brought a
gloved hand to her nose, trying to block out the odors. The hackney lurched
forward, throwing Lily firmly against the seat. The wheels rattled and creaked
as they made their way over the cobbles, feathering corners at breakneck speeds.
Lily held onto the side of the hackney to keep from getting thrown from side to
side.

The coach pulled up outside of Richard’s townhouse and
squeaked to a halt. The building looked imposing, masculine and stoic. The
drapes in all but two of the windows had been drawn closed as if to say no one
was welcome, stay away. Lily stared up at the house for a moment and shivered.
The driver jumped down and opened the door for her, then held his hand out for
her to descend.

“Are you sure this is the right address, my lady?” He
glanced at the building and then back at her, concern marring his features. “I
can return you to your home, so that you may check.”

“Good Sir, I appreciate your concern, but there has
been no mistake.”

He nodded, releasing Lily’s hand and then immediately
climbed back to his perch. “If that’s all?”

“Yes, thank you.” Lily tilted her chin proudly.

A whip cracked in the air and the sorrel stepped out.
The hackney disappeared, leaving only the lingering odor of stale cigars in its
wake. Lily watched it disappear before turning to the impressive Medieval
Revival in front of her with its fluted columns and molded cornices. The home
conveyed money, title, and prestige. Everything she’d thought Richard to be and
more. Lily took a deep breath and proceeded up the stairs to the front door.

She raised her hand to knock when the door swung wide.
She stared into the face of a smiling gray eyed man, of average build, with
dark hair and several missing teeth.

“You must be Lady Lily Devlin.” The man’s grin widened
and he beckoned her inside.

Lily frowned. “How did you know who I am?”

“I’ve seen you once or twice when I’ve driven the
carriage and my lord has told me all about you. He’s waited… a long time to
find someone like you.” He took her bonnet and gloves, ushering her into the
parlor.

“Was your master expecting me today?” she asked,
admiring the deep gold of the carpet, the rich emerald drapery covering the
window, and the thick cushioned chaise in the corner, with its gold pillows
blending subtly with the floor.

“No, my lady, but I’ve been looking forward to meeting
you for weeks now.”

Lily arched a brow. “Really?”

He bowed low, lower than necessary given the
circumstances. “Yes, my lady. You’ve made my lord so happy and for that I’m
truly grateful, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Lily frowned, feeling more than a tinge of guilt. She
doubted he’d be grateful in a few moments once she’d spoken with Richard. “Is
your master here?”

The man’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Not at the
present, but he shall return.” He glanced at the time. “Within an hour or so,
if you’d care to wait.”

“I’ll wait,” Lily said a little tartly.

“May I take your pelisse?”

Lily removed her navy pelisse and handed it to the man.

“Would you care for some tea?”

She smiled at the man who was once again looking at
her, like she was a creature sent down from above. “Thank you… “

“Hurley, my lady.”

“Thank you, Hurley, that would be nice.” She inclined
her head and he left.

A few minutes later Hurley returned with her tea on a
silver tray. Lily frowned. “Do you not have a maid or kitchen help?”

Hurley shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s just me and the
master, my lady. He prefers his solitude.”

“Do you have visitors?”

“Not in quite some time. You’re the first real lady we’ve
had come to the house, although I’m not sure if master’s going to approve of
your visit, considering the gabblemongers about.”

Lily’s lips thinned. “I daresay I’m not worried about
his opinion or any others for that matter. I’ve come here on private business
that could not have been dealt with any other way.”

Hurley’s eyes widened. “Yes, my lady.” He poured some
tea in a cup, then picked up a napkin and handed them both to her.

Lily nodded.

“Care for a cake while you wait?”

“Thank you.” Lily reached for the cake Hurley extended
to her. The whole scene seemed beyond odd, yet must have taken place before for
him to be so adept at tea service. Afterwards Hurley exited, leaving her alone
to wait in the parlor.

An hour passed and Richard still hadn’t arrived. Lily
sat as patiently as she could, her foot bobbing beneath her skirts. Was he out
visiting his whore? Did he also keep a mistress? He’d told her he couldn’t go
out in the bright sunlight. Images of Richard with a faceless lover made her
wince. Was that a lie like his professions of love?
He never professed his love
…

“Oh, be still,” Lily snapped at the empty room. She
glanced out the window just as the sun dipped below the horizon. Lily looked
back at the time. It neared five-thirty. She bit back a curse and started to
rise.

She’d made it to the parlor door, when it swung open.
Richard’s imposing body filled the frame, blocking escape. All that had
occurred between them last night came back in a flood. He stepped forward. She
sucked in a surprised breath, her hand flying to her chest. His obsidian eyes
locked on her face, his skin pale and glowing in the receding light and his
sensual lips parted slightly as if he’d wanted to speak, but paused instead.
His mahogany hair hung loose about his shoulders, giving him a wild, feral
appearance like he’d just risen from bed. Lily’s heart stuttered as she
recalled his naked flesh.

He glanced at the window. The last rays of sunlight
splashed his face. His breath hissed and he stepped back into the shadow of the
hall. “What are you doing here, Lily?”

Lily glanced over her shoulder at the window and
frowned, then remembering why she’d come in the first place, she shrugged off
his strange reaction. He’d addressed her informally, so she decided to do the
same. “I’ve come to have a word with you, Richard. If you’d care to step inside
we can close the door and have some privacy.”

His jaw firmed and his eyes zeroed in on her face. For
some moments he said nothing, simply stared. Finally he stepped forward and
grabbed her by the elbow, whisking her out of the parlor and down the hall.

“I prefer to speak in the library. It is far more
comfortable.” He didn’t break his stride, but continued down the hall.

Lily practically ran at his side to keep up. They
reached the doors that she presumed led to the library. Richard stopped,
opening them before her.

“Where’s Hurley?” her voice squeaked, nervously.

“He’s preparing dinner. We’ll have plenty of privacy
until he’s finished, which won’t be for an hour or so, since he’s had little
practice in the kitchen.”