Her Secret Fantasy Page 18

  That’s what you get for grasping after fortune, they would say. And how Bess Kingsley would squeal with glee to hear the news of her misfortune!

  But so be it.

  Climbing down slowly from the carriage, Lily walked, heart pounding, toward the house. There was nothing she could do now but brace herself and resolve to meet her fate with dignity.

  The butler had shown Edward into the dainty drawing room, where his large bulk dwarfed the satin sofa.

  Lily forced a brave smile as she went in to greet him. He rose, hat in hand. From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed her pale reflection in the mantel-glass, the artificial smile frozen in place.

  She was shocked by how much she looked like her mother.

  And by the glaring absence of her earrings.

  Her naked earlobes peeked out for all to see.

  I’m doomed, she thought.

  Edward bowed to her. “Miss Balfour.”

  “Mr. Lundy.” She started to offer her hand, then realized that, stupidly, she was still holding onto the ladies’ fashion magazines.

  The ones with the bridal gowns.

  Instead, she limited herself to a polite nod. “How are you today?” she inquired with probing caution as she sat down across from him with a deliberate show of grace.

  Mrs. Clearwell lingered in the doorway of the drawing room, eyeing them both with a questioning look that asked if Lily wished her to stay to lend moral support.

  Normally, respectable courting couples could be permitted fifteen minutes or so alone. Lily sent her a discreet nod, signaling to her to go. She did not want her dear godmother to witness her humiliation.

  Besides, if Edward’s anger climbed to frightening heights, then Mrs. Clearwell would not be far away with her footmen and butler to throw him out.

  “I’ll just, er, go and make the tea,” Mrs. Clearwell said hesitantly. With a worried smile, she withdrew. But she left the door open.

  As they labored through their usual, meaningless, stilted pleasantries, Lily discerned the same dark agitation in Edward that she had sensed the night of the masked ball, though he seemed to be trying to hide it. Something was definitely bothering him, but when he inquired about their outing, she gave only the sketchiest answer, unsure of how much he knew. No need to rush her doom.

  Then Edward cleared his throat. “Miss Balfour, I have a particular question to ask you today. That’s why I’m here.”

  “Yes?” she replied in attentive gravity, folding her hands on her lap. Her heart pounded faster.

  Edward rubbed his mouth. “I noticed at the concert last night that you disappeared for a while with Derek Knight.”

  The air vanished from her lungs. He stared at her.

  Hanging onto her wits for dear life, she managed a poised nod. “He was afraid he had given offense when the conversation turned to the subject of my father’s death in India. The major approached me to apologize.” Which is more than I can say for you, she thought.

  “I see,” Edward rumbled.

  “You were attending Lord Fallow. So I joined the major on a walk down to view the prospect of the river.”

  While he considered this, a most unexpected reaction began to take shape inside Lily.

  Anger.

  Perhaps the terror she had felt walking in here had pushed her too far, or maybe the thought of the fearless Derek Knight inspired her courage and made her own fear start to fade. But it was more than that, for the guilt that had squeezed her nigh constantly for years like a too-tightly laced corset began dissolving as she sat there, faced with her suitor’s suspicious and judgmental stare.

  For the first time in ages, Lily felt like a woman prepared to fight to defend her own honor.

  “What are you implying, Edward?” she asked in an icicle tone. “Do you mean to tell me you are jealous?”

  “No,” he said with a dismissive scoff, startling her anew. “It’s not that at all. I know you’re too sensible to let a penniless coxcomb like him turn your head.”

  His answer routed her. She stared at him. If he was not jealous, then why did he look so disgruntled? No longer sure of the purpose behind his line of questioning, Lily waited, motionless—on guard and a bit bewildered.

  “I want to know if he asked you any questions about me.”

  Lily tilted her head as the conversation pivoted in this mysterious new direction.

  “My business, my holdings,” Edward said urgently. “My work with the committee. Anything like that. I need to know whatever you might’ve told him about me.”

  Why? she wondered at once, but the perfectly genteel young lady that she had always portrayed herself to be with Edward would never have asked such an impertinent question.

  Half reeling with confusion, Lily opted for her usual answer to Edward—unquestioned obedience. Within reason.

  No wonder he wanted to marry her.

  “Major Knight did not ask me anything like that,” she answered quietly. There was no way in Hades she was telling him that Derek had also inquired why Edward had not proposed to her yet.

  “Think, Lily. Are you sure?”

  She gave him a cool nod. “The only thing he asked about you was if I thought you had enjoyed the concert.”

  Edward studied her. “Really?”

  “Yes, I’m quite certain.” She paused, and then crept out on a limb. “Why?”

  “Because I don’t trust him, that’s why,” Edward growled. He rose and paced over toward the fireplace.

  Lily looked at him in wonder. “But—Edward, I thought he was your friend.”

  “Maybe he is and maybe he ain’t. That remains to be seen,” he said gruffly and rested his hand on the mantel for a moment, brooding. “You must be on your guard with him, Miss Balfour.”

  This conversation was becoming entirely strange! “You know me, I am on my guard with everyone. But,” she continued with the greatest delicacy, “may I ask why you advise me thus?”

  “I don’t want him using you to try to get to me.” He turned around with a matter-of-fact expression as Lily felt her heart lurch.

  Derek…using her?

  She thought she might be sick. But, no! That made no sense, she assured herself, trying not to think about the time before when she was duped, or the diamond earrings she had parted with so easily for his sake.

  “Get to you?” she echoed his words in a strangled tone. “Whatever do you mean?”

  Something strange and dark and covert flickered behind Edward’s eyes as he turned away with a vague, impatient wave of his hand. “Ah, you know these younger sons of the aristocracy. They’re sharpers and swindlers, the lot of ’em. All arrogance and no blunt! Especially his kind, bloody Regulars,” he muttered. “You should see the way they strut around Calcutta, thinking they’re better than everyone else. The only reason he’s been so chummy with me is probably because he thinks I’ll be good for an advance if he gets in over his head at the gaming tables.”

  No, but that’s impossible, Lily wanted to tell him.

  Having just been inside the opulent home of his brother-in-law, the marquess, and having seen from a distance his cousin the duke’s mansion on Green Park, Lily knew that Edward’s suspicion against Derek on this point was pure foolishness.

  She pushed away another thought of her earrings as she realized in sickening hindsight that maybe she needn’t have parted with them at all. His rich family could have easily bailed him out of Newgate and hired the best legal experts for his defense.

  But the arrest would have gone on his record and tarnished his brilliant military career, she reminded herself with a pang. At least she had saved him from that.

  As for Edward’s claims, she quickly concluded that this was no more than the self-made man’s usual acute distrust of people he still perceived as his “betters.” It had long puzzled her how Edward alternated between slavishly seeking the approval of the highborn folk he now brushed shoulders with in Society and hating them. Both impulses seemed to have come together in his de
alings with the major.

  Lily dared not tell Edward about the earrings or any other aspect of the…friendship?…that she had been developing with Derek Knight independently of him. As it was, Edward’s angry intensity concerning the major could prove dangerous all around.

  Seeking with great care to defuse Edward’s fears, Lily gave him a winning smile. “Edward, I’m sure that if the major runs into trouble at the tables, he would not dream of bothering you, but would turn to his family for an advance. You always think that everyone is out to get you! Come, I am sure he genuinely likes you. How could he not? You were both soldiers, both served in India—”

  “Oh, he’s likable enough on the face of it, I suppose,” Edward grumbled, calming down a bit. “But I’m keeping my eye on that blackguard, and I suggest you do the same.”

  “Very well—”

  “And if he starts asking you any questions about how much money I have, I want you to tell me so!”

  “Without hesitation,” she soothed.

  He heaved a rueful sigh and dropped his head. “It’s good to know I have you on my side, anyway.”

  She smiled at him, but in the back of her mind, she felt the first stirrings of wonder that it did not even cross Edward’s mind to be jealous of her where “the stud of the Season” was concerned. Derek had warned her that Edward knew she was mainly after his fortune, but was her suitor so very confident of her financial desperation that he believed that nothing would make her jeopardize his favor? His certainty that he had her in the palm of his hand rankled her old Balfour pride.

  Edward glanced at the door to make sure her chaperone was still absent as he stole over to her and sat on the couch by her side. “My dear Miss Balfour.” Boldly, he took her hand. “All these questions, you know, aren’t the only reason I came.”

  She gave him a dubious look. “There’s more?”

  “Of course! I wanted to see you. But that can’t come as a surprise. You are well aware, I think, that you are my favorite lady.”

  “Am I?”

  “Of course you are! Next only to my mother. Favorite and only.”

  “Let’s not forget Miss Kingsley.”

  “Her?” He snorted, but to Lily’s arch amazement, the great brute blushed a bit.

  “And what about your new acquaintance, Mrs. Coates?” she persisted, acting as if she were jealous. “Last night you seemed quite awestruck by her beauty.”

  He laughed uncomfortably. “Well, none of them have captured my interest like you, dear. Lily—” Bravely, he tested the use of her first name and pressed her hand more tightly. “Let me prove my sincere admiration. May I…” His husky words faded as he shrugged off seeking permission and suddenly kissed her.

  Lily’s eyes shot open in shock, but Edward’s were closed as he squashed his cold lips against hers.

  She held motionless, praying that Mrs. Clearwell would not walk in on this. It was too embarrassing! Oh, Lord, she thought, waiting with heroic patience for him to finish up. For a heartbeat, she struggled to muster up some shade of the wild thrill she had experienced in answer to Derek’s kiss at the garden folly, but the experiment proved in vain.

  Nothing.

  The same could not be said for Edward. Unable to take any more of his attentions, she managed to pry him off her at last. His eyes were glazed.

  “My darling,” he rasped. “Forgive me.”

  “No matter,” she said briskly, wiping off her lips as she turned away in discreet distaste.

  Edward rose at the sound of Mrs. Clearwell’s loud “ahem!” from outside the parlor door. “Good day—Miss Balfour,” he said hesitantly.

  Lily folded her hands in her lap once more. “Good day, Mr. Lundy.”

  She answered his bow with a graceful nod, then watched him guardedly as he walked out of the drawing room, bade Mrs. Clearwell a polite good afternoon, and showed himself the door.

  The moment she heard the door close, Lily collapsed into the cushions behind her and pressed a hand vaguely to her thumping heart. Her whole body felt limp with relief at that narrow escape.

  “He didn’t mention the earrings—thank God!” she reported as Mrs. Clearwell glided in with the tea.

  “I heard,” her sponsor said sternly.

  “You did?” Lily glanced up at her in surprise.

  “I am your chaperone, darling. It is my God-given right, nay, my duty to eavesdrop. Now, then.” Mrs. Clearwell set a cup of tea on its saucer before her and sat down to perch on the low table across from the couch. “You let him kiss you?”

  “Yes,” she admitted ruefully. “It was horrid.”

  “I am glad,” she shot back. “Drink your tea, dear. You’re as pale as a sheet.”

  “That was fast,” Lily mumbled as she accepted her cup.

  “Eliza knows us well. She had already put the water on to boil.”

  Indeed, the sip of soothing tea with sugar and milk helped restore a modicum of calm, which was fortunate, for in the next moment, Lily was going to need it.

  Mrs. Clearwell shook her head ominously. “Any day now, you are going to have to make a momentous decision, my girl. First a kiss, next a proposal of marriage. You’ll need to be sure.”

  But I am sure, my decision is already made, Lily wanted to say. Instead, she found that she faltered.

  Was it?

  “Lily, darling.” Mrs. Clearwell cupped Lily’s cheek in maternal tenderness for a moment. “You know I adore you, but you cannot marry one man when your heart is fixed upon another. It would be wrong.”

  Lily could only gaze at her, at a loss.

  “Well, you’ve already been through enough for one day, so I will say no more. I have faith in you to do the right thing.”

  “Ma’am, I am sorry if I embarrassed you with my behavior in the midst of that whole—debacle.”

  She rose. “Yes, well, love makes people do foolish things.”

  “Love!”

  “You heard me.” Taking her cup of tea with her, Mrs. Clearwell wafted back toward the door. “I’m worn out from all our shopping. I’m off to take my nap.”

  “But Mrs. Clearwell, he’s going back to India!” Lily burst out before her sponsor disappeared.

  “La, child! Plans change,” her godmother assured her with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

  Lily’s shoulders drooped as she considered this uncertainty. “You mustn’t tell him about the earrings, in any case. He’d be mortified, proud as he is.”

  Mrs. Clearwell pretended to button her lips. Then she paused. “I could attempt to get them back for you, you know.”

  “No, ma’am.” Lily shook her head. “I would never put that debt on you. It was my choice and my responsibility to trade them away. I do not regret it.”

  “Aha, I see. But you are not in love with him?”

  “No!”

  Mrs. Clearwell turned away with a knowing chuckle. “I will see you at supper, then. That Lord Arthur, my, what a handsome fellow. I can see where the major gets his looks…”

  Lily smiled ruefully as her chaperone sailed off to take her daily rest.

  For a long moment she remained on the couch, staring at nothing, still dazed by all that had happened. She let out a sigh, took a sip of tea, and leaned her head back on the cushions. So, she thought dully. She still had Edward on her fishhook. Some cynical part of her asked, Did you think you could get out of it that easily?

  God, it was impossible to consider Derek Knight side by side with Edward Lundy and pine for the latter. What shall I do? Her emotions were all a-tangle. Heartbreak from the loss of her earrings. Amazement to find how much she really cared about Derek. Awe after having witnessed a glimpse of his warrior ferocity. Uneasiness after all Edward’s paranoid questions about him. And dismay at the thought of having to spend the rest of her life with those clammy lips squashed against hers.

  Maybe she really should put an end to this match.

  Alas, she was not brave enough to jump off that particular cliff unless she was sure the
re was someone with very strong arms waiting to catch her below.

  But that someone had other priorities, contrary to what her chaperone might believe. That someone did not feel toward her what she was beginning to feel all too strongly toward him.

  With a wince of angry frustration, Lily shut her eyes again, feeling trapped. Derek! I want to see Derek.

  Yes…

  As inspiration dawned, new energy suddenly spurted into her veins.

  She should go and see how that poor horse was doing!

  The sorrel mare was in sorry shape, but he had nursed far worse-off creatures back to health.

  In the stable that served the Althorpe, the rescued horse now stood safely tethered in the cross-ties with her injured front hoof soaking in a bucket of warm water with Epsom salts. His shirtsleeves rolled up, Derek sat on a low stool beside the problem leg, keeping the mare calm and making sure she did not try to kick away the bucket.

  They were housing her in the large box stall at the far end of the aisle, away from the other horses, until they could be sure she was not sick as well as maltreated. In the short couple of hours that had passed, she was doing remarkably well. Cleaned and dried, groomed and fed, the coachman’s lashes on her back lightly dressed with a warm bran-and-herbal poultice that Derek had made himself to draw off any risk of infection, her overall condition was vastly improved.

  He, too, had calmed down from his earlier anger. The stable had always been his favorite place to escape to, and being here with useful work to do had relaxed him considerably after that irksome altercation.

  Still, he remained in a troubled, dark, brooding frame of mind.

  The charges against him had been dropped, he guessed, due to their inherent absurdity. Still, the coachman’s attempt to have him arrested had left him fuming.

  A hundred witnesses in the crowd had seen that bastard’s cruelty to his animals. All he had done was give the man back a bit of his own medicine.

  It had felt good, actually.

  Until the moment he had remembered that Lily was watching.