Twice Fallen (21 page)

“It must have been a shock to discover his inclinations.”

“I had no idea that men… well, that…” She trailed off, not certain how to proceed.

“Take my word, I very much like women, and so I don’t understand either. I can’t get out of my mind how you looked in just your shift. It’s been keeping me awake at night.”

That rendered her speechless, and it was her turn to stare, her pulse quickening.

He audibly blew out a breath. “I’ve not heard a breath of rumor of it, so Arthur must be very discreet. Men talk. Gossip is not just limited to the female population.” The words were slow and measured. “Even back at Cambridge there wasn’t any indication that I ever observed, but then again, I wasn’t looking for it either.”

In the four years since Arthur had told her, she hadn’t broken his confidence except to Jonathan, and that had been more to protect the viscount from her brother’s possible vengeance than to reveal his secret. How much of a betrayal was it that she had told Damien Northfield the truth?

A large one probably, but on the other hand, it seemed he had known already.

“He told me he didn’t accept it himself,” she said in a whisper.

“I take it you discovered his preference for men the night you eloped.”

Put so starkly, it brought home the memory of that unwelcome journey with vivid clarity.

She could recall the windy evening, the jostle of the ride, and in retrospect, the strained expression on Arthur’s
face. When they stopped for the evening, his hesitation as he secured two rooms for them was a sign, though that they hadn’t shared a room was a detail that society tended to ignore.

“Not in the way you think.” She crossed her arms over her chest and lowered her lashes a fraction, the moment etched indelibly in her psyche, not sure why she wanted to make it clear to him, but it was important to her suddenly that he know what happened in truth. Slowly, she explained. “He never tried to seduce me, or even as much kiss me, but I thought he was merely being a gentleman. When he persuaded me to forgo the long engagement, I thought”—she felt the scalding heat rush up her neck into her face at the intimate nature of the revelation—“I thought he simply didn’t want to wait for me any longer. He’d already asked my father for my hand and been accepted, so I suppose this makes me hopelessly naive, but I interpreted it as a romantic gesture.”

Damien tactfully said nothing, for which she was grateful.

“And then he told me. He came to the door of my room and knocked, and when I answered, he was so pale I thought he might be ill. He came in and knelt at my feet and begged my forgiveness but said he couldn’t, after all, go through with the marriage because, in fact, he loved me, but not in the way I loved him. And he never would because of his… preference. Our friendship meant enough to him that he couldn’t use it to trick me into an untenable arrangement in which I would be cheated of the husband I deserved.”

“A pity he hadn’t thought of that before he persuaded
you to go off to Scotland.” Damien’s voice held an icy edge.

She brushed the skirt of her nightdress with one hand in a restless movement, remembering her former fiancé’s tortured confession. “I think he had convinced himself he could provide me with friendship and security and a privileged life and I might count that enough, but the immediacy of the moment tormented his conscience. He gave me a choice. We could go through with the marriage, or he could take me back to London.” She took a moment and a deep breath. “I chose the latter. I knew what it meant, but I was willing to endure it.”

“I am not surprised, and that, my lady, is a compliment.”

“Thank you.” Lily stilled her hand. “This might sound ridiculous, but I still very much admire him for telling me the truth rather than forcing both of us into a life of unhappiness.”

“Yet he still married.”

“He needs an heir. And besides, she didn’t love him. She coveted his title. There was no deception in their betrothal.”

“You still defend him.” One brow lifted in an ironic arch. “May I point out, from what I witnessed at the opera, it seems to me that Lady Sebring might be possessive of not just his title. How can you know her feelings aren’t engaged?”

Lily had come this far, so she might as well tell the rest. “She’s distraught because she hasn’t yet conceived a child. The doctors say she might be barren. I doubt it is me she resents, but him.”

“Sebring made a devil’s bargain then, and someone out
there knows his secret. He’s being blackmailed, but he refused to tell me why. Now I see why he was reluctant.”

Just as she suspected. Arthur’s grim demeanor when he drew her aside at the opera certainly bore out that something unusual was happening in his life. “Is he in danger?”

“Thank you for telling me the truth. Working in the dark is not impossible, but a little light always helps.”

The evasive answer wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“What are you going to do to help him?”

“I think I need to ferret out the source of the blackmailer’s information, don’t you? Your father must have known. Otherwise he would have challenged the man who so damaged your reputation with his ill-conceived rush to try to get you to the altar.”

“I didn’t tell him. It was far too embarrassing, yet somehow he understood.” Her smile was tremulous. “I suppose I am not good at lying.”

Damien paused and then said neutrally, “Not a bad trait.”

She still remembered with unwelcome clarity that interview after she returned home disgraced and heartbroken. “He guessed from what I didn’t say, just as you did now. My brother knows though, because I
had
to explain.”

“He wouldn’t—”

“No. Never.”

Her lack of hesitation and vehemence must have been convincing, for Damien nodded, his face thoughtful. “I suppose I’ll have to look elsewhere, then.”

“Why?”

“As I don’t think you are the source that provided the information to our villain.”

Lily shook her head, her laugh short. “You do not play at misunderstanding very well, my lord. I meant, why would you help Arthur when you claim he is nothing more than an old acquaintance?”

“I don’t just claim it, Lily.” He straightened and took a predatory step toward her. “My reasons for looking into this are not easy to explain at the moment, but in case you have any doubt about
my
sexual preferences, I would be more than happy to demonstrate for you.”

Well, he needed to distract her, and she was certainly distracting
him
with the folds of her nightdress draped across her provocative curves and her hair loose and catching glints from the firelight.

Even as Damien moved, a part of him wondered if he’d planned this all along.…

Maybe Sebring hadn’t wanted her, but
he
did.

He definitely did.

Lily gazed up at him as he stopped in front of her, soft lips parted, her tumbled hair cascading down her back. When he reached down and took her hand to tug her to her feet, she didn’t resist, rising, her breasts lifting with a swift indrawn breath. “You have no need to prove anything to me. I—”

“What if I wish to prove it to you?” His thumb brushed her lower lip as he interrupted. Her mouth was soft, smooth, and warm, and he lowered his head, wondering what he was doing. Kissing her was ill advised, but then again, so was kidnapping her.

Who would think return to civilian life would significantly affect his instinct for self-preservation?

“What if I
really
wish to prove it?” he whispered just
before he settled his mouth against hers gently. She didn’t pull away but went very still and her lips trembled just a fraction beneath his, her uncertainty palpable.

Her first kiss? She’d just told him that Sebring hadn’t touched her…

Damned if Damien wasn’t grateful, for he was now granted this privilege.

His hand went to her waist, his lips gently possessing hers, seeking, tasting, letting her get used to the tactile sensation of their mouths together, slowly bringing her closer to his body with the pressure of his palm as it slid to the small of her back. At first she stiffened, but he was gratified to sense her feminine yielding, the sway of her body toward him, the slight clutch of her hands on his upper arms.

This really wasn’t fair to her, he reminded himself, deepening the kiss, his body stirring into arousal—the intoxication of sexual contact clouding judgment that was obviously already impaired by hot-blooded desire. Lily was not experienced with seduction. Quite the opposite was true. She’d been educated sexually that night four years ago when Sebring had persuaded her to run off with him, but not at all in a romantic way. Instead, she’d been given a lesson in the vagaries of the human existence, and unfortunately, the revelation had been ruinous to her future.

He respected her dignity, her decimated prospects for a good marriage evidently a fair price in her mind to pay for a personal reconciliation between her self-worth and her aspirations.

In short, he already knew she wouldn’t sacrifice happiness for pride.

How much would he offer? He didn’t know. In a different way, this was as new to him as it was to her. What he did know was that he’d been captivated from that first moment when he’d caught the elusive scent of her in the library.

He’d watched both his brothers fall in love with their wives. They had been much less aware of it than he had been at the time—Colton had already been married—and it had amused Damien no end to watch them struggle to understand what exactly was happening. At this moment, with the intoxicating Lady Lillian in his arms, tentatively beginning to kiss him back with shy enthusiasm, he had to wonder what someone else might see in this particular moment.

“Tell me,” he murmured as he broke the kiss, his lips feathering across her cheek, “do you believe in my sincere interest, my lady, or shall I further prove it?”

She didn’t answer at once, her lips parted, her quick breathing lifting her breasts against his chest. Lush lashes finally fluttered upward. “I… I don’t know what you mean.”

He wasn’t quite sure of it himself. By now he was fully hard, and he really could not remember wanting a woman so badly in his life. Maybe he’d been too long without the intimacy of a tender kiss, a light touch, that singular feminine sigh of pleasure in his ear.…

Caution was bred into him as the son of a duke. Embroiling himself in a liaison that might involve an unpleasant backlash in the form of an irate husband, or worse yet a father, was ill advised. As he’d never favored paying for erotic entertainment like so many of his class, he chose his bed partners with care and always made
sure they were experienced and unfettered. After Waterloo he’d been too ill for a long time to even contemplate vigorous sexual activity.

Besides, he’d found in maturity, the lighthearted affairs of his youth were not as appealing as they once were. He’d had offers from ladies besides the persistent Lady Piedmont since his return to England, but none had tempted him for one reason or another.

Until now.

And what the devil
do
I mean?
he wondered, his aching cock taking issue with his hesitation in responding to her wavering, uncertain question. Moreover, he could not only feel every perfect curve of her body through the thin fabric of her nightdress, but the rapid beating of her heart.

What Sebring hadn’t done, he wanted to do very badly, but there was the sticky point that Damien would never compromise her and not play the honorable gentleman.

Marriage. It had always been an abstract concept. Something respectable members of society did, not men who had fought cunning and deceit and brutality on an equal level. Maybe it was that since the war he’d seen his brothers with their wives and families with a different view than that of the cynical bachelor who still had his freedom.

In the lengthening silence Lily must have sensed the measure of his indecision, for she suddenly tried to escape the circle of his arms. “You’ve learned what you wished to know. Can you arrange to have your accomplice return me, please?”

“Lily.” His hold tightened as he looked at her averted face. “Don’t turn away.”

“Where else am I supposed to turn?” Her palms flattened on his chest and her response was barely audible. “Unless you mean to offer me something honest, I am not interested.”

“Define honest.” He leaned in and nibbled on her earlobe.

“Damien.” She shivered, and some of her resistance departed. Her body was fragile in his embrace. “Don’t do this to me.”

He could, of course. Already he knew he could. If he lifted her now and climbed the stairs to his bedroom, he was certain he could persuade her to allow him to do whatever he wished to her all-too-tempting body, but that would be a hollow victory at best. Capitalizing on her vulnerability had never been his intention.

Smiling faintly, he said, “I’d like to do quite a lot of things to you, Lady Lily. Will the duchess think I am suitable enough to be a formal suitor?”

He’d shocked her yet again. Her face froze, and it took several moments before she composed herself. “She’d swoon with joy and receive accolades from all her highbrow friends for the coup, but perhaps you should ask what
I
would think.”

A valid point, but Damien already knew what she thought. The tips of her breasts were tight under the thin material of her gown, and there was a certain vulnerable dreaminess in her eyes despite her dry tone.

In his life he’d never tried to make a woman fall in love with him.

He’d never
wanted
a woman to fall in love with him.

Life had been dull since his return from Spain until he met Lily in the library that evening, so perhaps it was time
for a new challenge. Seduction—he might have success, but she was remarkably independent and intelligent—yes, seduction would be pleasurable, but he needed more.

All of her.

Damien’s smile was slow as he touched her cheek and looked into her eyes. He liked the azure color—it reminded him of youthful summers and the cloudless sky. “What would you think,” he asked, his voice holding a rasp of huskiness, “if I told you my intentions were ultimately honorable, Lady Lillian, but tonight distinctly
dishonorable
?”