The Accidental Mistress (34 page)

"She's right," remarked a resonant voice from the threshold. "I would not sic the law upon you, Hodges, though I might beat you and the footmen senseless first. I am rather handy with my fives, and I expect you would have a devil of a time wrestling me past the threshold."

Lily glared at Ethan. "
You
are supposed to be downstairs."

He quirked a defiant brow and strolled into the room. "
I
came up."

"Well, you can go back down." She thrust a finger toward the door. "Be gone, my lord. I have nothing to say to you."

"Good. Perhaps then you'll keep silent long enough to listen to me this time." He cast a meaningful glance at the waiting servant. "That will be all, Hodges."

She set her fists on her hips. "Do not order my servants around. You have no right. Particularly since you are no longer welcome in this residence."

A muscle on the underside of Ethan's jaw flexed tight. "One of the many things we need to discuss." He strode farther into the room and took up a position near the fireplace. Crossing his arms, he met her gaze, his expression reflecting the same stubborn defiance that was visible in his posture.

Lily restrained the urge to stamp one of her feet in frustration. Short of having him tossed bodily out of the house—which her manservants were apparently too pusillanimous to attempt—there would be no getting rid of him. At least not until she listened to whatever he'd come to say. "Hodges," she stated in a quiet voice. "You may withdraw."

The butler darted a glance between her and Ethan. "Yes, ma'am." Retreating into the hallway, he shut the door behind himself and left them alone.

"Well then, speak," she commanded. "And be quick about it, so you may depart with equal haste."

He dropped his arms to his sides. "Must we be at daggers drawn?"

She shot him a look that was hot enough to weld iron. "Yes, I believe we must and you have only yourself to blame. I suppose that is what comes of being manipulated and deceived."

"I did not deceive nor manipulate you," he stated through clenched teeth.

She drew in an audible breath. "Hah! And I suppose you are going to tell me I imagined seeing your engagement notice in this morning's paper. You
are
affianced to that girl, are you not?"

His lips thinned. "At the moment, yes, but I'm—"

"Then I have heard everything I need to hear." Bile burned under her sternum, threatening to leave a hole in its wake. "The door is there. Shut it on your way out."

He growled low in his throat. "I'm not leaving until you let me have my say. Why are you so determined to deny me?"

Because I can't risk letting go of my anger and possibly letting you in again, not when the wound you've already inflicted has cut so deep.
"Because I don't care to listen to more of your excuses and prevarications!" she said aloud. "How many times must I say it?"

With fury boiling in her blood, she looked around, her gaze alighting on a small porcelain figurine of a shepherdess and a lamb. Without thinking, she picked it up and hurled the china full force at his head. He ducked, the figurine shattering into a dozen pieces against the fireplace surround. Tears stung her eyes, appalled by what she'd done. Blinking fast, she refused to weep, determined not to let him see the extent of her distress.

"Last night was not my idea," he defended, plainly braced to dodge anything else she planned to throw in his direction. "I had no idea my mother was going to do what she did. If I had, I would have stopped her."

"And what difference would that have made? Obviously, you were secretly engaged, even if it had not been announced yet."

"I was not engaged. It's true that I spoke to Amelia Dodd's father several months ago before I had even met you. But there was no marriage agreement, and no engagement between Lady Amelia and myself."

"Your mother and the earl obviously believed there to be."

His fingers drew taut at his sides. "The earl believes what he wants to in order to satisfy his own objectives. As for my mother … well, she knows better and proceeded regardless in order to force my hand. Sutleigh and Mama have been dynasty-building in their heads for decades. One of my brothers was supposed to do the honor of joining the families by marriage, but after Arthur's and Frederick's deaths, the task fell to me. I should never have even entertained the notion of acceding to their plans—"

"But you did," she accused.

He met her gaze. "I wasn't going to marry her. I had already decided to speak with Lord Sutleigh and tell him I would not be offering for his daughter, after all. I would have talked to him before the ball had I realized he was in town."

"Oh, and all these weeks before, you had no access to pen and ink?"

He raked his fingers through his hair, sending the golden strands into a disarray that only made him more appealing. Lily cursed herself for noticing, and for being susceptible to his magnetism even now.
The strength to resist him will come with time,
she assured herself, desolation sweeping through her like a bitter January wind.

"Frankly, I had all but forgotten about my overtures in that direction," he said. "Nothing was settled between us, or so I thought, and I was far too wrapped up in you to pay the matter any heed."

"So now I am to blame for your inability to remember being engaged."

"How many times do I have to tell you, I was not engaged!" he roared.

"Perhaps not then, but you are now," she said in a quiet voice.
Oh God, he is to marry another and the knowledge is tearing me apart!
She held her arms close to her chest and struggled against the need to tremble.

He tossed up a hand. "Yes, all right, fine, I am engaged. But it is only temporary. You have to believe that I do not want to marry her."

In that, she could see he was being honest. Releasing a sigh, she lowered her arms to her sides. "Even if I do believe you, it changes nothing. You are engaged to …" She swallowed and tried to say the name, but the appellation refused to travel past her lips. " … th-that girl, and the matter cannot be undone."

"Yes, it can," he stated, striding forward. "And it will. I'll find a way."

"What way, Ethan? Not counting the seventy-five or so people who heard the announcement last night, there is the notice in
The Morning Post
to consider. There is no taking this back. You are pledged to her." She paused and drew a shaky breath. "Unless she is foolish enough to change her mind and release you from your promise, the engagement will stand."

He narrowed the space between them. "It will not. I will see this travesty ended one way or the other. Right now, she is refusing to call off the engagement, but I will find a way to convince her otherwise."

"So you've spoken with her already?"

"Yes. I came here directly from meeting with her. I couldn't let another minute go by without talking to you. I tried to explain all this last night, if you will recall, but you were too upset to listen. Now, you are finally hearing me out." He wrapped his hands around her arms. "Lily, you are the one I want—not her, never her. Give me time to straighten this out; trust me enough to make things right again."

"But how can I when you lied to me? How can I trust anything you say when you deceived me from the start?"

"Because I love you."

Her heart turned over in her chest.
Loves me?
she wondered.
Does he truly?

A need rose inside her, so sharp it was very nearly painful. Lord, how she wanted to believe him. How she longed to put aside her hurt and anger and accept his declaration without the necessity for questions or doubt. What a relief it would be to set aside all this discord between them and simply go on as before. To once again be held within the sheltering strength of his arms, secure in the knowledge that he loved her as she loved him. Yet as much as she ached to give in—and heaven knew she did—something continued to hold her back.

"If you do love me," she challenged, "you certainly have an odd way of showing it."

He gazed into her eyes for a long, intense moment. "Maybe this will better demonstrate my feelings," he murmured. Before she could object, his mouth lowered to hers as he swept her into an embrace she found herself powerless to deny.

Seductive and sensual, the thrill of his kiss blazed through her with the quick, raging heat of a summer fire. Yielding, she let him take her deep, drawing her into their own private world where nothing existed but lush need and boundless pleasure. Softening, she returned his kiss, matching his passion with her own. Breath ragged, she savored the intoxicating scent of his skin, opening her lips wider to capture the dark, luscious flavors that lingered like honey on his tongue.

He pressed her tightly against him, making no effort to conceal the unmistakable evidence of his growing arousal. Turning his head, he claimed her lips from a different angle, gliding his hand down her back, and past her waist, to stroke over the curves of her buttocks.

The sensation awakened a dormant corner of her mind, reminding her what came next. If she let their lovemaking proceed, he would soon be whisking her up into his arms and carrying her into the bedroom. Once that happened, the battle would be lost.

She
would be lost.

Ethan said he loved her, but did he really? Or were his promises nothing more than a clever means of worming his way back into her bed? Before yesterday, she had believed in him implicitly, thinking him to be everything that was honorable and good. Last night had shattered her faith, ripped the blinders of delusion from her eyes.

What if he is lying to me again?
she wondered.
What if he only wants a convenient bed partner for the time being—all the while intending to marry that girl to please his family and further his noble lineage?
The idea had the same shocking effect as a dunk in an icy river, waking her up, making her think. Suddenly she realized she had to free herself, that at all costs, she must protect what remained of her heart.

"No!" she cried, breaking their kiss. "No, stop." On a harsh gasp, she wrenched herself from his arms.

"Lily, what—" He reached for her again, but she took several faltering steps backward.

"No, don't touch me. So long as you are engaged to her, do not so much as come near me. I want you out!"

"You don't mean that. You are not being reasonable—"

"Am I not?" she charged. "I am not the one who lied about his intentions. The one who has promised himself to another and is no longer free. I may have been your lover, Ethan, but by God, I will not be your whore!"

His head went back as if she had struck him, his skin paling. "I am not asking you to be."

"Aren't you? Because I'll be no better than one if I agree to let you back into my life. And I will have nothing but your promise that you will not wed her. What am I to do when the day comes and you cannot break the engagement? What will I be left to think when you walk down the aisle with another woman?"

Anger flashed in his eyes, his hands balling into fists. "I won't be walking down the aisle with any other woman. The only one I want is
you,
and I would ask you to marry me today if I were free to do so." He paced a pair of steps. "Damn and blast, I am not lying!"

Her breath hitched in her throat, hope welling upward like a glittering spring at the thought of being his wife. But just as quickly, she remembered his engagement. Her shoulders slumped. In the past, she had wished for things, prayed for them with a steadfast faith, only to be disappointed. If she let herself believe and he betrayed her, she didn't know how she would be able to go on.

With a shake of her head, she quashed her longing. "No. You need to go away. I cannot let myself trust you. I know far too much about broken promises and easy deceptions. My father spent his life telling one tale after another to us, spinning his stories in order to convince my mother and me that he would stay, that next time would be different. Until he lied again. Until he left again. I won't let you do that to me."

"Dear God, Lily, you're refusing to trust me because of your father? In case you have forgotten, he and I are not the same man."

"No, but you are both men," she declared, too wound up to consider her words. "Timothy Bainbridge was a selfish wanderer, who hurt people with his carelessness and neglect. And my stepfather … well, he is a vile serpent disguised in a pretty skin. But you, Ethan, in your own way, you are worse than both of them because you made me think there could be something more, made me believe we could have something pure and good and real. But that's not possible, not anymore."

So why do I still love him? Why does the thought of sending him away make me want to rage and cry?
Furious at her own weakness, she straightened her shoulders. "I want you out. Now! And just in case you decide to try sneaking in one night, I must inform you, your house key will no longer work. I have had the locks changed, on every door and window."

His cheekbones tightened, fury snapping like a whip in his eyes, along with what appeared to be pain. When he spoke, his words were like ice. "I assure you, madam, should I choose to sneak in here one night, your trifling efforts to prevent me will have no effect. But rest assured, I shall not importune your favors without your prior express consent.

"Be aware, however, that this is far from over between us and I will be back. When I return, it will be as a free man, no longer engaged to any woman. On that day, I will expect a suitable recompense from you for your marked lack of faith. So, madam, I suggest you use the intervening time to consider how you plan to beg for my forgiveness. If you do it well enough, I might decide to take you back, though it may be as nothing more than my mistress."

Her lips parted on a silent gasp.

"I bid you good day, Mrs. Smythe." Executing a sharp bow, he turned on his heel and strode from the room.

Agony blossomed beneath her breasts, a pain that lodged like a stone near her heart.
Did I misjudge him?
she wondered.
Was I wrong to send him away? Oh God, what have I done? And if he truly does love me, has that love now turned to hate?