Secrets of a Wedding Night (16 page)

Damn it. He couldn’t answer that question.

Instead of summoning a servant, Devon made his way to the kitchens to fetch the glass of water. He wanted to give her enough time to get dressed. He wanted to give himself enough time to think.

When he finally returned, she was standing next to the bed, looking heartbreakingly beautiful. She’d put her hair back up, but it had a sort of tousled quality that made him hard all over again. She’d replaced her clothing, but she stood with her gown hanging open in the back, waiting for him to help her with her stays and all of the buttons. She motioned behind her and he quickly crossed the thick carpet. He handed her the water. She sipped it hesitantly, while Devon laced her up and buttoned the gown. He breathed in her smell too, and closed his eyes, thankful she couldn’t see his reaction.

Devon waited until he’d finished with her buttons before he spoke. He bowed his head behind her. She had to know about the bet and she would hear it from him. “Lily, there’s something I must tell you.”

Lily sucked in her breath. She turned quickly and put her fingertip to his lips. “No, no more. It doesn’t matter. Please just take me home.”

He opened his mouth to try again, but the look in her eyes stopped him. It looked like … pain.

Damn it.

Instead, he nodded.

*   *   *

Devon accompanied her home. They rode together in silence while Lily traced raindrops on the coach’s windowpane. She closed her eyes, imagining that if she hadn’t stopped him, Devon would have said everything she’d ever wanted to hear. Instead, she was sure he would say something painful. Too painful. Something about five years ago and the reasons why he’d never come back for her. What did any of it matter anymore?

Marriage was out of the question. Of course, Colton would be a perfect person to marry,
if
he had a shilling to his name,
if
she could trust him,
if
she had an intention of ever marrying again. But he did not. And she could not and did not. He was a gambler, as his father had been. And it made her heart ache to know it. He’d told her once, years ago when they were courting, he would never be a gambler like his father. And yet, Devon was exactly that. Obviously the years they’d been apart had changed him irrevocably, completely. It made her sad and made her want to scream too.

Yes, Devon Morgan was completely inappropriate for a score of reasons.

But why, oh why, did her traitorous heart have to want him so?

CHAPTER 16

Medford’s town house was perfectly decorated. Candles glistened in the chandeliers, the refreshment tables overflowed with decanters of wine and bowls of punch. Young ladies and their chaperones mingled against one wall, the pastel colors of their ball gowns heralding their debuts.

And Annie was there among them, finally experiencing her long-awaited come-out.

Her dark hair was pulled up in a bun atop her head. Stray curls fell softly at her cheeks. Her best white dress, the one that Lily had painstakingly sewn for her, accentuated her trim figure. Annie looked stunning and Lily was proud. Exceedingly so.

Annie twirled around, an enormous smile gracing her beautiful face.

There was nothing this moment could use, if not their mother. Oh, Lily had little use for their father. The man had always been domineering. Money and spirits were the only things important to him. He’d demanded Lily marry the Earl of Merrill, and like a good daughter, she had. But their mother had always been kind and happy with the girls, understanding. Their mother may have been ruled by her husband’s whims and devastated by his constant gambling, but she loved her daughters. And when their father was taken from them four years ago after a particularly long, harsh winter when he’d come down with a nasty cough, it had been sad, but even more distressing was their mother’s coming down with lung fever within days of their father’s passing and being gone only weeks later herself.

Lily sighed. If she’d learned one thing in her twenty-two years, it was that life just refused to be fair. And so be it. She would always rely upon herself and never count on fate to be kind to her.

She glanced over at a beaming Annie.

Annie. So innocent, so hopeful.

Yes, Annie might not know what sort of trouble she could encounter at a debut ball, but at least she could have this one night of magical fantasy.

Lily’s own debut had been that way too, and she wished that for her little sister. Five years ago, Lily had stood on the sidelines of the Wilmingtons’ ball and waited for her own debut, the butterflies in her stomach taking flight. It had been like a dream, that night, and she would never forget it. Like a heroine in a romantic novel, the first man she’d laid eyes on had been the hero of her story.

Devon Morgan.

Young, dashing, and oh, so handsome, he’d come out of nowhere and claimed her hand for the first dance. Initially, she’d been convinced her friends had put him up to it, for certainly such a charming bachelor would not be interested in her. And he was the only son of a marquis, no less. He’d twirled her in his arms as if he’d invented the steps and Lily had been hesitant to pinch herself, frightened she would awake from a too perfect dream.

But that had been five years ago.

Things were very different now. She hadn’t allowed herself to dwell too long on what had happened between them at Devon’s town house last night. It had been a pleasant interlude, to be sure, but their involvement with each other must end there. Surely, Devon realized it too. Surely, he’d give up his intention to seduce her and just quietly go about his business of finding a new fiancée. There were plenty of other rich young ladies to marry. Surely, he could find one who wasn’t scared off by the pamphlet. The man was a marquis, for heaven’s sake.

“There’s Mr. Eggleston,” Annie squealed into Lily’s ear, shaking her from her thoughts. “Doesn’t he look positively dashing?”

Annie’s best friend, Frances, was there beside her, wearing a pastel pink ball gown and dutifully squealing with glee also over the thought of Eggleston asking Annie to dance. “No doubt you two will be engaged by month’s end,” Frances said, her blond curls bobbing against her temples.

“I do hope so,” Annie replied with a nervous laugh.

“You don’t happen to know if Lord Ashbourne will be here tonight, do you?” Frances asked, a sly smile on her face.

Annie frowned. “Lord Ashbourne? Why, he’s older than … Lily.”

Lily laughed. “Yes, and I’m positively ancient.”

Frances sighed. “Who cares how old he is? He’s positively gorgeous. Those silver eyes, that chestnut-brown hair, those wide, square shoulders.” She shivered. “Oh, I know he would never look twice at me, of course, but it doesn’t keep me from wanting to catch a glimpse of him whenever possible.” She winked at the sisters.

Lily shook her head, and the two younger girls trailed off giggling together.

Lily scanned the crowded ballroom. She’d seen Medford only briefly when they’d first arrived. She’d barely had a chance to thank him again for his kindness before he was called off to perform a multitude of hostlike duties. She hadn’t seen him since.

Her gaze fell on Mr. Eggleston. He stood across the room, his eyes fixed upon Annie who was still off laughing in the corner with Frances. Her sister’s laughter made her smile.

She searched the crowd again before she realized she’d been looking for Devon. He wasn’t there. She sighed. Perhaps after last night, he’d decided not to come after all. He and Medford were hardly friends. It would stand to reason that Devon might skip this particular event.

She did her best to shake off the odd feeling of melancholy the thought gave her. It was just as well if Devon weren’t here. Hadn’t she just been thinking moments earlier they should go their separate ways? It made no sense to contradict herself now.

The music began moments later and, with it, the dancing. Lily searched the floor, expecting to see Annie and Arthur Eggleston there together. Frances flew past in the arms of a handsome young buck. But Annie was not there. Instead, a brief perusal of the room revealed Eggleston standing on the sidelines seemingly in a deep conversation with another young man.

Lily swung around to find her sister. Perhaps another young man had caught Annie’s fancy or persuaded her to dance. Lily located her sister standing only a few yards away and she hurried over to her.

“I cannot imagine why he does not come,” Annie said, her cheeks growing pale. She bit her lower lip.

A twinge of anger shot through Lily on her sister’s behalf. How dare Eggleston lead Annie to believe he would ask her to dance and then completely ignore her for the first one?

She glanced about and realized that most of the ballroom was watching Annie. To be left on the sidelines at the first dance at one’s debut was unimaginable.

A slow simmer began in Lily’s chest. She clenched her fists and glared at Arthur Eggleston.

Annie did her best to maintain a brave façade. She wandered over to the refreshment table and drank punch and laughed with a few of the other wallflower girls and their chaperones. She appeared gay and happy, but Lily knew better.

The strains of the first song came to an end and the dancers returned to the sidelines. Annie returned to Lily’s side.

Lily noticed Eggleston making his way out of the ballroom. “Of all the nerve.” Lily did her best to keep her voice low, but Annie swung around to look.

“What is it?” Annie’s eyes were wide and panic-stricken.

Lily expelled her breath. “Nothing, dear. Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“It’s Mr. Eggleston, isn’t it?” Annie glanced around the ballroom and caught sight of him. The heartbreak on her face crushed Lily.

“He’s leaving,” Annie whispered, touching her white glove to her lips.

Lily squeezed her sister’s hand. “Please, darling, think nothing of it. You’re sure to have a dozen new suitors. Don’t give Mr. Eggleston a second thought.”

Annie blinked back tears. Lily could see them, unshed, in her younger sister’s eyes and the pain ripped at her own heart. She had half a mind to follow that young man outside and take a switch to him.

The strains of a waltz were beginning and Lily glanced around, stricken. She would make this right. Couples were pairing off all around her and still Annie stood there as if frozen to her spot; no young swain came her way. Unthinkable. Annie was the most beautiful girl in the ballroom. It was utterly ridiculous that not one young man asked her to dance.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Lily whispered to Annie. “Viscount Medford is here. He’ll dance with you.”

The unshed tears in Annie’s eyes hurt more than any tantrum could. “No, no, Lily, please don’t ask him to,” she whispered brokenly. “I couldn’t bear it.”

Annie turned away. She slowly made her way to the wall and took a seat in one of the chairs that lined it. Lily watched her go, torn between the urge to hug and comfort her sister and the urge to chase Arthur Eggleston down and rip his beating heart from his cowardly little chest.

Medford. She must find Medford. Her eyes scanned the crowded ballroom, but Lord Medford was nowhere to be seen. Blast it. He was busy playing host. He could be any number of places. Outside seeing to the traffic, in the kitchens seeing to the concessions, or dealing with any number of items that come up when one hosts a ball. There was no time to track him down.

She turned back toward Annie. Comfort. She must offer comfort.

She’d barely made her way back to her sister’s side when a deep voice sounded from behind them both.

“Excuse me, Miss Andrews, but would you do me the great honor of allowing me this dance?”

Lily spun around. Her heart leaped in her chest. Her hand flew to her throat.

There he was.

Her knight in shining armor.

Their
knight in shining armor.

Devon Morgan stood there, looking tall, dark, and even more handsome than usual. He bowed at the waist to Annie and offered his long, lean hand.

Annie blushed from ear to ear and gave him the most beautiful smile Lily had ever seen. Lily smiled herself, her heart warming as she watched her sister put her hand in Devon’s larger one and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.

The smile Annie bestowed on Devon could not have painted him any greater a hero. “I never thought I’d say this,” Lily whispered to herself, “but thank God for Devon Morgan.”

She watched them dance, admiring the way in which her sister matched him pace for pace. Colton was a famously good dancer, and the fact that Annie was a match for him spoke to her sister’s skill. Lily’s chest swelled with pride.

Moments later, Medford appeared at Lily’s side. “What’s wrong?”

“There you are,” Lily replied, not taking her eyes from Devon and Annie.

“Do you require my assistance?”

“No. No. Everything is fine. Annie’s dancing with Colton.” She nodded toward the couple.

Medford’s hazel eyes flickered toward the dance floor. “So I see. I thought that lad Eggleston would be dancing with her.”

“So did I. And he best pray I do not find him before my sister does. I swear I will never know why Eggleston didn’t ask her to dance. Annie was so sure he would.”

Medford expelled his breath. “I think I know why. Though I confess I’m hesitant to tell you.”

Her gaze flew to his. She clutched at his coat sleeve. “Why? You must tell me, why?”

Medford cleared his throat uncomfortably. He lowered his voice and glanced about. “There’s been a rumor that Annie doesn’t have a dowry. I heard it myself in mixed company. Not exactly the type of thing one needs when one is making one’s debut.”

Lily set her shoulders and lifted her chin. “So that’s why Eggleston didn’t ask her to dance, is it?”

There was no telling who would have started such a rumor, but because it was entirely true, Lily couldn’t exactly deny it. She’d always counted on Annie’s dowryless state to save her poor sister from some loveless, awful marriage, but Lily hadn’t expected word to travel so quickly before Annie’s debut and ruin her sister’s most coveted night.