Sapphires Are an Earl's Best Friend (16 page)

“I’ll not hear of it,” the man said. “You are cold, and you will come inside. I have a blanket and a warm brick for your feet. I could care less about a little dirt.”

She was so unused to kindness of any sort at that point that all she could do was gape at him. Finally, she’d climbed inside and sank into the seats. She was asleep within moments, letting her guard down, which was not like her. The earl had shaken her gently awake when they’d arrived at his Mayfair residence, and she’d stumbled inside, stumbled to another life.

She looked at Darlington now. “The countess did not so much as blink at me.”

“She must be a kind woman, despite all appearances to the contrary.”

Lily laughed. “She does have a way of making sure her wishes are followed. God knows I never had a chance. She marshaled Fallon, Juliette, and me into ladies, though it must have been a trial. Fallon, in particular, had no idea how to behave. I at least knew the basics.”

“You were born to be a lady,” Darlington said, his hand touching her hair. “Even now, soaking wet and covered with dirt, you look every bit the part.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “They do not call you ‘the Darling of the
Ton
’ for nothing.”

“Actually, no one calls me that anymore. Not since I called all my former friends empty-headed fops and publicly accused my father of lechery. And, of course, I insulted the
ton
’s favorite Fashionable Impure.”

“Juliette?”

He tapped her nose. “You.”

She did not know what to think of this new interest in her. She had wanted his attention for so long that she could scarce believe she actually had it now. And what would she do with it? After what she’d been through, could she go to bed with a man and not remember that horrible violation years ago?

He stood and offered his hand. “We should return. The rain has slackened enough that the water in the stream should have returned to its previous levels.”

She took his hand and stood, suddenly eager to return to Ravenscroft Castle. Now that she had Darlington’s support, she would have more access to the duke’s private rooms. That should make the search faster. All she needed was proof Ravenscroft was involved in the scheme against the Diamonds in the Rough, and the Crown could take action.

They started back toward the stream, she holding his hand in a comfortable intimacy. How strange that this contact should feel so natural when, in the past, she had lived for weeks on one smile directed at her or one brush against his arm. Darlington moved aside a low-hanging branch so they might pass without having to duck. Standing on the other side was a smiling Lucifer.

***

From Lily’s gasp, Andrew surmised the man standing before them was not there to wish them well. A closer look revealed him to resemble the description she’d given of Lucifer. “Lord Darlington,” the man said with a smooth, deep voice. There was something ominous about his tone. “And the Countess of Charm.” He gave Lily a nod. “I wondered why you were here, but your little conversation with the earl was enlightening.”

He felt her hand tighten in his. If this Lucifer had overheard their conversation, he knew everything.

“I should have taken the opportunity to kill you when I first saw you arrive. I knew leaving you alive was a mistake.” He lifted a pistol. “I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

Everything happened in a blur. Lily pulled her hand out of Andrew’s and shoved him aside. Andrew protested, but his words were swallowed by the sound of the ball exploding from the pistol. He fell to the ground, realizing Lily had pushed him to safety. She’d pushed him out of the way, leaving herself in the path of danger. He rolled down an incline before he could catch himself and jump to his feet again. By then, Lily was wrestling with the man, her hands around his wrist, keeping the pistol pointed toward the sky.

He scrambled up the slick, leafy ground, wondering what the hell the woman thought she was doing. As he watched, she kicked Lucifer deftly between the legs, and when he doubled over, she yanked the pistol from his hand and smashed it over his head. Lucifer staggered back and down even as Andrew reached Lily.

She grabbed his hand, still holding Lucifer’s pistol in the other. “Let’s go!”

Andrew could see Lucifer was still conscious and struggling to his feet. He was going to want retribution. Still, if she had not been there, he would have stood his ground.

How had she learned to fight like that? Andrew didn’t think he could have managed it any better. If he’d had any doubts as to what she was before, he did not doubt it now. He followed her back toward the stream, eventually passing her and clearing the way for the two of them. He didn’t hear any signs of pursuit, but Lucifer would come after them, given half an opportunity.

When they reached the stream, he was dismayed by how high the water remained. It would still be a struggle to cross it and reach the waiting horses. But Lily, God love her, didn’t even flinch. She threw off her boots and tied up the long skirts of her habit. Andrew removed his boots as well, knowing they would only weigh him down. He tossed his and hers to the other side of the stream, but his aim failed on the last of her boots, and the water caught it, causing it to rush away with the fast-moving current. He gave her a sheepish look. “Sorry.”

“It’s not important,” she said, and stepped into the water. Her face betrayed nothing but determination as she started across, fighting the strong current. He stepped in behind her and gasped at the freezing water. He wanted to whimper, but he gritted his teeth and pushed on. He kept his gaze on Lily, determined to catch her if the stream should snatch her away. A rock landed beside his right shoulder, and he turned to see Lucifer standing behind them. The man was not fool enough to wade into the waist-high water, but he was lifting stones and hurling them into the stream. His next volley was more accurate, and Andrew cursed the blow to his back.

“Here.” Lily thrust the pistol into Darlington’s hand. “Throw this. Do not miss.”

Andrew turned and ducked another incoming stone. Then he braced himself against the current and took aim with the pistol. Lucifer raised another rock, quite a large one, and Andrew hoped his weapon hit first. He launched the pistol and watched as it arced over the water. Lucifer deftly sidestepped it and threw his rock. His aim was slightly off, or Andrew’s head would have been flattened. As it was, his shoulder exploded with pain.

He felt Lily’s arms around him, pulling him toward the stream’s bank even as he wanted to sink down and recover. But she dragged him across, fighting the undercurrent and his weight, until they finally reached the shallower waters. A stone missed him and hit her upper arm, but she just hissed in a breath and pulled him up beside her. Lucifer pitched another rock, and his aim was good—much better than Andrew’s had been. But the distance was greater now. Still, Andrew did not relish waiting for the moment when Lucifer’s aim improved, and he forced himself to his feet, and with Lily hobbling barefoot at his side, ran for the horses.

They danced and whinnied, obviously glad to see their humans after having been left in the cold and the rain for so long. Andrew took a moment to soothe his mount and then Lily’s. “A dry stable and an extra ration of oats await you,” he promised. The trees offered them some protection, but Andrew did not intend to wait around for Lucifer to find a way to reach them. He helped Lily mount and then climbed into his own saddle.

By the time they reached the stable, he was shivering so badly he could hardly hold onto the reins. Lily looked as though she fared little better. He gave his reins to a groom, jumped down, and caught her as she slid off her horse. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper.

“You’re not fine. I’m taking you inside.”

“There’s no need to carry me.” Even as she spoke the words, she turned her head into his coat, and he felt her body relax. She was exhausted and on the verge of collapse. He carried her across the lawns until he reached the doors of Ravenscroft Castle. The butler must have seen them coming, because he had the door open before they reached the steps. “My lord!”

Andrew shook his head, not wanting the man’s sympathy at the moment. “Where is my father?”

“Dining with his guests. It is past the dinner hour.”

Andrew ignored the censure in the man’s voice. “Find Miss Dawson’s maid and order her to tend to her mistress. Have footmen bring hot water and a tub to her room.”

The butler frowned. “The footmen are serving at His Grace’s table, and Cook is preparing the last courses.”

“Then heat it and bring it yourself. If you need my help to carry it, I am at your service.”

“My lord!” the butler said, shock in his voice. But Andrew ignored him, starting for the stairs and Lily’s room. She was pale and cold, and if he didn’t warm her soon, she would catch her death. His own weariness pressed upon him like a boulder by the time he reached her room. Though she was light, he was out of breath. He nudged the door open with his foot and carried her inside, laying her on the chaise longue instead of the bed so her wet garments would not dampen the sheets and coverlet. He grabbed the poker and stoked the fire in the hearth, taking an extra moment to warm his numb fingers, and then turned back to her. She stirred, opening her eyes.

“Did I fall asleep? Is Lucifer—?”

“We’re back at the house, and we are safe.” For now. “I’ve had the butler fetch your maid, but we must change you out of these wet things.”

“I can do it.” She struggled to her feet and pulled ineffectively at her fastenings, which were all in back. Of course, she could not reach them. Andrew turned her and began loosening the garment.

“My lord, you shouldn’t—”

“This is no time for propriety, and you are a courtesan, for God’s sake. I won’t ruin your reputation.”

“Yes, my lord, but your father would not like this.”

“He can go to hell, and stop calling me
my
lord
.” He pulled the riding habit down over her shoulders, freeing her arms, and pushing the heavy material to the floor in a damp puddle. “If I am going to help you in this endeavor—and I am already in too deep, so do not argue—then you will at least have the common courtesy to call me
Andrew
.”

“Is that common courtesy? And here I thought titles were all the crack.” She sounded bemused, but he ignored it because she was also shivering. His cold fingers made untying her petticoats difficult, but he persisted, wondering, not for the first time, why women wore so many undergarments. Despite the gloom and chill in the air today, it was summer. Finally, she stood in her shift and stockings, which when he bent to remove them, he saw were ruined beyond repair.

“I can do the rest,” she said.

He lifted the hem of her shift, looking for the fastening of her garter. “I’m almost finished. I—” He touched the bare flesh of her thigh, and she gasped. He realized his fingers were colder than her skin here. He also realized she was virtually nude before him, the wet shift concealing nothing, and he had his hand on her naked thigh.

He looked up at her, trying very hard not to allow his gaze to linger on the damp material clinging to her breasts, the dark aureoles of which were clearly visible. He rose, slowly, allowing her hem to drop, though he would have rather dragged the garment over her head. “I badly want to kiss you right now,” he said, standing so close their bodies almost touched.

“I don’t think that would be a wise idea.” Her voice was breathless, her eyes large and dark.

“No one has ever accused me of possessing wisdom. Allow me to kiss you. Please.” He felt a fool for begging, but he wanted her permission. He’d taken too much from her in the past, this woman who’d had so few choices of her own. He wanted her to choose him. He wanted her to come to him. He could make her forget the past. He knew he could. But it would have to be her decision and on her terms.

“Please?” She reached out and touched his face, her fingertips light and tender. “How silly that word sounds on your lips.”

“Then do not make me beg.”

“Andrew…”

His name on her tongue all but undid him. He stopped himself from wrapping his arms about her only by grasping her wrist and pulling it to his mouth. He kissed it gently, darting his tongue out to taste her skin; then with his gaze fastened on her face, he trailed his lips to her palm, opening her fingers and teasing the inside of her hand with his teeth and tongue. She stared at him, her face flushed and her breath rapid, and he stared back, wondering what she would say, what she would do. Praying she would allow him to kiss her, hold her, love her.

“Ahem.”

Andrew spun around and saw Lily’s maid in the doorway. She was looking at the floor, pretending she did not see what was happening.

“Anna!” Lily stepped away from him as though she were an errant child, not a notorious courtesan. “Do come in.”

“Yes, madam. The servants are bringing a tub and water. Shall I find your robe?”

“Please.”

Andrew backed away, feeling the dampness of his own garments now. “I will leave you to your ablutions.”

Her gaze met his, and there was something in her eyes he didn’t recognize. “An—my lord, perhaps we could speak later?”

He nodded. “I am at your disposal.”

He stepped out as the hip bath was brought in, and made his way to the other wing of the house and his own rooms. This time he would wait for her to come to him.

He was still thinking of her, his mind back in her chambers, when another form stepped before him. “There you are.”

“Emma?” Andrew frowned. “Is anything the matter?”

“No, but…” She wore a robe and a cap on her hair and looked as though she were ready for bed. “Would you come into my room for a moment? I want to say good-bye.”

He searched his memory for details. She was leaving early in the morning for his sister Katherine’s home, where she would stay for the remainder of the summer. His sister lived a relatively easy distance, and Andrew had sent a runner to her house with a letter explaining the situation. Katherine had agreed to take Emma in once she understood Andrew wanted their young sibling safely away from the Kwirleys of his father’s acquaintance.

He stepped into her room, spotting several trunks and valises stacked to one side. Her governess was closing one of the trunks, but she nodded at him and wordlessly stepped into the dressing room to give them privacy.

“I did not know if I would see you in the morning,” she said. “I leave quite early.”

“I am glad you found me.”

“You were gone most of the day. I would hug you, but…” She gestured to his damp, soiled clothing.

He smiled. “I was caught in the rain.” As he spoke, he glanced about her room. He could not remember the last time he had been inside, but he thought it had changed very little. It was still the room of a child, adorned with ribbons and lace. Dolls and porcelain figures were scattered among books and texts. He looked at her again, suddenly feeling a pang of loss. “I will miss you.”

Her brows rose. “Will you?”

“Of course. I only want you to be safe.”

“I know.”

“It is not safe for you here. His Grace is too busy with his fun to realize that.”

“He never paid much attention to me, in any case. You were his heir. The rest of us were incidental.”

Andrew stared at her. Was that how she had felt? Was that how Katherine felt? On impulse, he reached out and hugged Emma hard. He should have been a better friend. He should have been a better brother. He would make it up to her.

“Andrew?” she asked, her voice muffled against his coat. “Will I really be coming back?”

“Of course. This is temporary.”

“How long will I stay with Katherine?”

He could not answer her. A fortnight if his father was innocent of Lily’s accusations. The guests would be gone by then, and it would be safe for Emma to return. But if his father was guilty… “I do not know. But you will return.”

She sighed. “I suppose I will have to trust you.” She leaned back and gave his coat a grimace. “Did you roll in horse manure? You smell horrid.”

“Are you certain you caught a good enough whiff?” He grabbed her neck and wrestled her face into his damp, and truth be told, smelly coat.

“Stop! No!”

“You should smell my boots.”

She was fighting him and laughing, and he was laughing too. He felt once again like an older brother.

“You’re disgusting!” she exclaimed, breaking free. “Go take a bath.”

He did as she bade him, returning to his room and ordering his valet to secure a tub and water. Of course, he had to wait. All the hot water had been procured for Lily, and so it was several hours before he was able to dress in clean clothing. Dinner was long over, and he did not intend to make an appearance in the drawing room. Instead, he dressed in trousers and a loose shirt, forgoing a cravat or a coat. He nibbled a light supper of grapes, bread, and cheese, and drank from an expensive bottle of wine he’d pilfered from the cellar before the house party had begun. Several letters from acquaintances and associates in London had arrived, and he was thumbing through those, idly opening and reading any that caught his interest, when he heard a tap on the door.

He didn’t even look up when it opened to admit his valet. “You can retire for the evening, Phibbs. I won’t need you.”

“I wasn’t aware I needed your permission.”

That was not Phibbs’s voice. He looked up slowly, hoping his ears had not tricked him. But no, she was standing there alone, dressed in a deep purple gown and lovely as the sunset on a clear summer night. He didn’t invite her in, but neither did he protest when she stepped inside and closed his door. His heart was pounding, and his fingers had begun to tremble, making the letter he held shake. He set it down. “You look much recovered.”

“I am. You look better as well.”

He nodded and waited for her to speak, but she said nothing further. “Do you want—?” he began at the same time she said, “I came because—”

“Go ahead.”

“No, you first, my lord.”

“It’s Andrew.”

She smiled at that. “I came because everyone is in the drawing room, playing cards. Anna says the stakes are high tonight, and the company is quite engrossed. They should be at it a while. Now might be a good time to search your father’s private chambers.”

“You came to ask for my assistance?”

She shrugged. “You did offer it. If you want the truth, I am at a loss. I have searched the library and his bedroom and found nothing. I do not know where else to look.”

“I do.” He crossed to the window and parted the draperies. The long summer hours meant the sun set later, and though it was clearly evening, the sky was still streaked blue. “But I’ll wait until full dark. The place I have in mind is not inside the house, and anyone in the drawing room who looked out a window would have a clear view of me.”

“Where are we going?”

He glanced back at her. “You are staying in your room. Lucifer is out there. I don’t want you in danger.”

She pulled a small pistol inlaid with sapphires from a hidden pocket. He remembered it from the time he had rescued her outside London. “I am no fainting miss. And you are not leaving me behind.”

He cocked a brow. “Do you even know how to work that toy?”

“It is not a toy.”

“No?” He made a swift move and snatched it away from her. “It won’t be when Lucifer takes it from you as I just have.”

She moved so quickly, he didn’t even see it coming. He heard a whistle of air next to his ear, and when he looked behind him, a jeweled dagger protruded from his bedpost. Andrew couldn’t quite catch his breath.

“As I said, I am no fainting miss.” She crossed to his bed and grasped the dagger’s hilt, straining to pull it out. Andrew slid his hand over hers and easily dislodged it. When she turned, he didn’t lower his hand, effectively pinning her against the bedpost, though she had a dagger in her hand and was far from defenseless.

“Have I told you I think you are amazing?” He reached up and stroked her cheek. Her eyes remained locked on his face, her fingers wrapped around the dagger at her side.

“No.”

He laughed then lowered his forehead to hers. “Lily, I am dying. I’m like a giddy schoolboy. My hands are shaking, and my heart is thundering.”

As though to test him, she put her hand on his chest, which caused his lungs to constrict. He could scarcely breathe. “I want you,” he whispered. “And you want me too.”

She shook her head and allowed her hand to drop. He felt cold seep in where her warm flesh had been. “I cannot.”

“You’re afraid, but it will be different with me. You know it will. I care about you.” He stroked a curl of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. “How can I prove it to you?” he whispered. “I will do anything.”

She was silent for so long he thought she would not answer. If she did not answer, he could live with that as long as she stayed. As long as he could touch her, hold her in his arms. He did not want to be without her.

Finally, she looked up at him, her eyes as green as a cat’s. He’d seen that look before, and it worried him.

“You once promised you would stand on your head.”

“I did?”

“You did.”

He shook his head. “That doesn’t sound at all like something I would say.”

She laughed, a lovely deep sound. “It is
exactly
the sort of thing you would say, and you said it to Juliette in Hyde Park. You said the Duke of Pelham would never attend the regent’s ball, and if he did, you would stand on your head.”

Andrew had a vague memory of that day. He’d been so angry at the gossip pairing Juliette and Pelham. And he’d been desperate to prove it was not true. He remembered the encounter with Juliette at Hyde Park, vaguely remembered Lily there. She’d always been there, but he had never noticed her.

“I was called away and did not attend the ball. I did not observe the duke at this ball.”

She tapped his nose. “But you know he was there. That is where he and Juliette met. It was in all the papers.”

“I don’t read—”

“If you want to prove you care for me, then make good on your promise.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You want me to stand on my head?”

“Yes.”

What new foreplay was this? “And if I stand on my head…”

“Then you may kiss me.”

Good God, he was a pathetic specimen of a man. At one time, he would not have made any more effort than to lift a finger to have a woman. This one asked for everything. And he would give it to her too. He would have given her anything. He would have jumped from his window, sang an opera, danced a ballet, if she’d but asked it. Andrew knelt and removed his boots then moved the small table holding his wine and his plate. He lifted the glass, drank a good quantity of the wine, then stood in the cleared space.

“Are you actually going to comply?” she asked, leaning down and returning the jeweled dagger to a hidden pocket.

“I made a promise,” he said. Of course, he’d never stood on his head before. How did one accomplish such a thing?

She gave him a wary look and scooted onto his bed. He liked the look of her there. Keeping her there was motivation enough to at least try this ridiculous maneuver. He bent and kicked his legs up, and they came down again just as quickly. He heard her giggling, but he ignored it. If he amused her, that was fine. Women liked men who made them laugh. He tried again and failed, but thought he might have the idea now. He would kick one leg up and then slowly raise the other once his hands were solid and steady on the floor. His third attempt was better, but he moved too quickly, and his legs went over his head.

She gasped and moved to slide off the bed. “Are you hurt?”

“Stay there.” He held up a hand. His back was going to hurt like the devil in the morning, but he was going to do this. “I think I have it.”

“Do be careful.”

“Your concern is touching.” Considering it was her demand that would cause him to break his neck. He moved back into position, put his hands on the floor, and carefully lifted his legs. “I have it,” he said through clenched teeth, concentrating to keep his balance. He wobbled, losing his balance, and quickly lowered his legs before he took another tumble. When he stood, he heard clapping.

“Bravo!” Lily was kneeling on his bed, clapping enthusiastically. “That was impressive.”

He felt slightly dizzy and rather ill, but he made a sweeping bow nonetheless. “I have honored my word yet again. And the next time I see Pelham, he will hear about it.”

“Then I suppose it’s my turn.” She slid off the bed and seemed to glide toward him. His breath caught, watching her. He did not know what she would do next, but he prayed she would touch him, kiss him… He had a rather long list of what he might pray for.

She put her hands in his, and her skin was incredibly soft and her hands sinfully warm. “Now I honor my promise.” She stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his.

***

She was afraid he would feel her trembling. She did not know what to do next, only that there was nowhere she wanted to be besides in Andrew’s arms. She giggled, and he pulled back. “Kissing me is amusing you?”

She shook her head and attempted to compose herself. “No. I was remembering the sight of you standing on your head. I still cannot believe you attempted such a thing.”

His brow creased in what she now recognized as annoyance. “I did not merely attempt it. I was successful.”

“Of course you were.”

“I do care about you,” he said, looking into her eyes in a way that made her heart clench and her belly flutter. “Whether that proves it or not.”

She hadn’t needed him to prove it. She knew he cared. She could see it in his eyes, in the way he touched her, in the way he took care of her, even when she didn’t need it. Something had changed in him. Had he fallen in love with her?

She dared not hope. Possessing his love had always been a dream too lofty even for her. “I did not need you to prove it,” she said, looking up at him. “I already knew.”

“Then why…” He sputtered something incoherent, which made her laugh. To stop his babbling, she placed a finger over his mouth.

“I needed a moment to collect myself, because I knew what was going to happen.”

“And what’s that?” The poor man truly looked as though he did not know.

She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body against his. “You are going to take me to bed.”

“Am I?”

Her pulse kicked with sudden anxiety. Had she been presumptuous? “Will you?”

“Is that what you want?” His hands were on her waist, and they tightened slightly. “Lily, I can wait. I can wait as long as you need.”

It was tempting to take him up on his offer. She rarely, if ever, admitted her fear. If she admitted it, then she had to face it, and it was hard enough to act the spy when one was not thinking about fear. So she’d learned to block it out. But she could feel it hovering like a black cloud on the edge of what should have been a beautiful moment. The old nausea rose in her belly when she thought of what would happen between them—the chance she could become with child, the chance that the intimacy would remind her of those awful events of the past—and that awful man.

She did not want to remember that time in her life. Thus far Andrew’s touches and kisses had not made her think of anything but having more of him, but she had always stopped him when her fears began to bubble to the surface. And, admittedly, he was the first man who had ever touched her tenderly and with her pleasure in mind. Perhaps that was why being with Andrew did not remind her of the past. Or perhaps she was finally willing to let the past go—to forgive herself for her mistakes and to start a new chapter in her life.