Secrets of a Wedding Night (20 page)

Lily barely heard her companion’s scandalous words. Just then, Devon seemed to snap himself out of the trance he was in.

“The bet was completely overblown,” he said. “There’s no such thing as far as I’m concerned. In fact, that’s what I’m trying to tell Ashbourne here.”

“Pity,” Lady Eversly said with a catlike smile pinned to her face. “Because from what I can tell from my friend’s reaction to seeing you with your shirt off, you were just about to win.”

Jordan cleared his throat. “Yes, well—”

Lady Eversly cut him off. “Tell me, Lady Merrill, who do
you
think will win the bet?”

Lily eyed the group. Time stood still. She wanted to wipe the smug look from Catherine’s beautiful face.

Lily was tired. Tired of being preconceived by everyone. Devon, Annie, and now a complete stranger. She was predictable. She didn’t drink. She couldn’t possibly be the author of
Secrets of a Wedding Night.

Lily clenched her teeth. Her gaze slid to Devon. He was gorgeous. There was no denying it. And all the women in the
ton
clearly wanted him.

Well, she wanted him too.

The idea that had begun forming in her mind ever since she’d encountered him at the theater took a full-formed shape.

Now she was sure of it.

Devon Morgan owed her a wedding night.

An unforgettable one.

She’d never be married again. She might as well discover what it felt like to spend a night of unbridled passion in the arms of a handsome man who knew exactly what he was doing. Revenge had nothing to do with it. She could enjoy the pleasures in Colton’s bed and still take her revenge. In fact, it just might be the perfect way to exact it.

Secrets of a Clandestine Night.
That’s what she would write. And
that
pamphlet would sell, blast it!

Lily spurred her mount into action, turning in a tight circle.

“No reply, Lady Merrill?” Lady Eversly called out.

“My money’s on Colton,” Lily tossed over her shoulder. Then she touched the horse’s flank with her riding crop, starting her into a fine gallop toward the stables.

Lily grinned.
Ah, the looks of shock they all must have plastered to their faces.

CHAPTER 21

Lily entered the ballroom wearing her lavender gown. The one that made her eyes glow like amethysts. She’d brought it with her to the Atkinsons’ house party and she’d spent a considerable amount of time late this afternoon removing some of the baubles and lace that marked it as a garment that had been in fashion five years ago. She added a bit of understated edging that made it look like the height of fashion now. And for a bit of added fun, she’d spent the rest of the afternoon retracing the pattern of the neckline to ensure it was lower cut than ever before. The result was a mix of daring and dangerous, one that was sure to attract attention.

Annie was at her side in the white gown Lily had sewn for her. Together, they entered the room, dark hair swept up, curls framing their faces. Annie with the air of innocence about her, and Lily, no doubt, the jaded air of someone who’d seen too much.

Lily promptly made her way toward a hovering footman who provided her with a long-stemmed glass of champagne. She was not Lady Merrill, proper widow anymore. She was Lily, the future author of
Secrets of a Clandestine Night.
And she would begin with a drink … or three. Annie reached for a glass of champagne. Lily gently pushed Annie’s hand away and pointed in the direction of the punch bowl. Annie scowled at her.

Raising her glass to her lips, Lily took a sip of champagne. Sweet and ticklish. Ah, champagne was lovely, really. She should have been drinking it long before now.

“Be careful,” Annie warned, leaving Lily’s side. “That dress can be nothing but trouble for you, dear sister.”

“Don’t be impertinent,” Lily replied.

Annie shrugged, and Lily watched approvingly as her sister went off in search of a glass of that innocuous liquid, punch.

“You are as beautiful as I’ve ever seen you.” The male voice sounded behind Lily’s ear and for a moment Lily held her breath, hoping it was Devon. But she turned, instead, to see Lord Medford at her side. Medford was dressed in his dark-blue best, his brown hair clipped close, his eyes brightly shining. He was handsome to be sure, but he lacked Devon’s dark dangerousness.

“Thank you,” she responded in kind, curtsying to him.

Medford’s eyes devoured the cleavage that spilled so generously from her gown.

Lily smiled at that. Good. The dress would work after all. Though at the moment it appeared to be working on the wrong man. She quickly downed half the glass of champagne before searching about for the footman again. Oh, any footman with champagne would do.

Her eyes scanned the ballroom and quickly alighted on Miss Templeton. The young woman stood against the far wall, a tall, blond, willowy thing with far too many curls bouncing about her head. “She looks positively insane,” Lily muttered under her breath, downing the second half of her glass.

“Who looks insane?” Medford easily removed two more champagne glasses from a footman’s silver tray and handed one to Lily. “I see you’re drinking now.”

Lily exchanged her empty glass for the full one and shrugged. “What do you think he sees in her?” She tipped the newest glass to her lips.

“Who?” Medford’s eyes narrowed on Lily’s face. “How many glasses of champagne have you had?”

“Oh, not enough, I assure you.” She placed one hand at her elbow and dangled her glass from her gloved fingers. Tapping her silver slipper on the floor, she glared at Miss Templeton.

“What do I think who sees in whom?” Medford asked, taking a sip from his own glass.

“That dreadful Templeton girl. What do you think Colton could possibly see in her? He’s old enough to be her father.”

“That’s a stretch,” Medford said with a laugh.

“Well, uncle then,” Lily amended, scrunching up her nose.

“She’s lovely and she’s quite wealthy,” he replied, before quickly amending. “If you like young, blond sorts of girls, which I assuredly do not.”

“Wealthy, ah yes, that’s it, isn’t it?” Lily shot the last of the second glass of champagne down her throat.

“Perhaps it’s best to change the subject. May I have this dance, my lady?” Medford asked.

Lily turned around to tell Medford she didn’t feel like dancing.

And that’s when she saw him.

Standing only a few paces away, his back against a column, his dark eyes boring holes into her.

Devon.

She caught her breath. Time stood still. He stalked toward her, his eyes never leaving hers, and she said a little prayer of thanks for her daring décolletage. He had a cut on the side of his lip, a result, no doubt, of his earlier fight with Lord Ashbourne.

She wanted to float over to him. No, she wanted him to stalk over to her. She wanted him to take her into his arms and demand the next dance. Suddenly, she did feel like dancing after all.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. “Lady Merrill, I have something to say to you.”

Lily jumped and turned around at the small voice that sounded like nothing so much as an angry mouse. That curly-headed Miss Templeton was there, tapping her tiny foot on the parquet and eyeing Lily as if she wanted to slap her.

“Why, Miss Templeton. I haven’t seen you in an age.”

A shadow fell across Lily’s shoulders. Devon had drawn near.

“You’ve been avoiding me, no doubt, after serving to ruin my life,” Miss Templeton squeaked.

Lily gave her her famous innocent look. “Ruined your life? Whatever could you possibly mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean.” Miss Templeton’s sky-blue eyes were narrowed. Why, the girl might peck Lily to death if she allowed her to get close enough.

“No, I don’t actually,” she replied in a tight voice. This little bird needed to fly away. “Miss Templeton, allow me to warn you. You couldn’t possibly have chosen a worse evening to have this conversation with me. I have every intention of drinking far too much for far too long and I’m entirely sure you won’t like anything I have to say to you. Now, I suggest you go take some smelling salts or whatever damsels in distress do when they’re overcome with their emotions. And while you’re at it, you might see to your hair.” Lily glanced up at the curly configuration atop the younger girl’s head and frowned disapprovingly.

Miss Templeton shook so hard Lily feared her curls might fall off. Her milk-white hands curled into fists. “Oh! You! Do you deny you sent me your detestable pamphlet?”

Lily glanced at Devon from the corner of her eye. “Pamphlet?”

Miss Templeton’s voice dropped to a whisper. “
Secrets of a Wedding Night.
I received a personal copy. It was delivered to my home a few weeks ago. Do you deny you sent it?”

Where was that confounded footman with another glass of champagne? “Now, Miss Templeton, I’ve heard it said no one knows for sure who wrote
Secrets of a Wedding Night,
but believe me when I tell you, anyone who sent you a copy must have had only your very best interests at heart.”

“Is that so?” More birdlike foot tapping.

“Oh, I’m sure of it. And besides, I hardly see how it ruined your life. That’s a bit dramatic, dear, isn’t it?” Lily finished on a conspiratorial whisper.

Miss Templeton pointed a petulant finger at Devon, who remained just a few paces away, watching the interaction with an interested smile on his face. So like him.

Medford stood beside them glancing back and forth between the two women as if he might be called upon to break up a physical altercation.

“I was engaged to the marquis,” Miss Templeton peeped. “And now I am not.”

Lily shrugged and took another long sip of champagne. “I hardly see how a pamphlet ended your engagement.”

“It frightened me horribly. I was scared witless.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Did the pamphlet cry off for you, then?”

Miss Templeton’s pursed her tiny lips. “I cried off, but only because of that hideous pamphlet.”

Miss Templeton’s mother, obviously alerted to her daughter’s outburst by some caring partygoer, hurried over and grabbed the blond thing by the hand.

“Amelia, dear,” she cried. “You are making a
scene.
”

Miss Templeton allowed dainty tears to slip from her eyes. “I don’t care, Mother. Lady Merrill has ruined my entire life.”

“There, there, dear. You need to lie down.”

“Yes. Go lie down,” Lily said in her fake-sweet voice. “Far, far away.” With that she downed the rest of the glass.

Thankfully, Mrs. Templeton pulled the incoherent young woman away before a larger scene ensued, but not before tossing Lily a decidedly unpleasant look. Lily breathed a sigh of relief as she watched them go, but an unexpected twinge of guilt shot through her. She bit her lip.

“I’d clap if I could.” Devon’s deep voice sounded from behind her.

Lily jumped. She hadn’t forgotten he was there exactly, but she hadn’t expected him to speak first either.

Medford stepped in between them. “Colton,” he said, his voice a disapproving growl.

“Medford,” Colton replied, nodding to the viscount, his eyes narrowed.

Medford turned to face Lily. “Do you want me to make him go?”

Lily shook her head. “I appreciate it, Lord Medford, truly I do. But I’ll handle him.”

Medford eyed Devon again, clearly reluctant to leave. Lily put her hand on the viscount’s sleeve. “Please, trust me. I’ll be all right.”

Medford nodded tersely. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Then, we’ll talk.” He turned on his heel and stalked off without a backward glance.

Lily watched him go before she whirled around to face Devon. They eyed each other carefully. “So, you said you’d clap. Why is that?”

He took two steps forward. His black, polished boots clicked against the parquet. “For that performance, of course. You didn’t lie to Miss Templeton, did you? Well done, actually. Quite well done.”

Lily suppressed her smile. “I don’t know what you mean.” She glanced around. Thankfully, the other guests had returned to their dancing, drinking, and conversations. They were no longer staring at her.

“Oh, yes you do, though you’ll never admit it. I must say, I underestimated you myself. I always had my suspicions that you’d written the pamphlet, but I never imagined that you’d actually been the one to send a copy to Miss Templeton personally.”

Lily’s cheeks flamed. Blast it. Unfortunate, him overhearing all of that. She raised her chin. “If someone sent the pamphlet to Miss Templeton, it wasn’t—”

Devon raised his hand. “Please. Don’t ruin your streak of not telling a lie. I couldn’t stand it. Let us both pretend it is a mystery how Miss Templeton came to be in possession of the literature.”

Lily snapped her mouth closed. Devon held out his hand to her.

“I see you’re drinking tonight … and wearing the type of gown I’ve never seen you in before, I might add. Though I must admit I cannot help but admire it.”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“Dance with me,” he commanded. “Don’t let that beautiful gown go to waste. I cannot take my eyes off it.”

His gaze dipped to her décolletage and Lily’s heart beat double time.

Lily didn’t answer. She merely put her hand in his and allowed him to lead her to the dancing.

Devon escorted her to the floor. He bowed to her first, then took her hand, letting his other hand rest on her waist. Lily narrowed her eyes like a cat’s and watched him. This was a game, tonight, between the two of them. A game with the highest stakes.

“The cut on your lip looks bad.”

Devon smiled. “Jordan’s got a hell of a left hook. But you should see him.”

“So who won?”

He shrugged. “It was more of a draw. But let’s just say we worked out our … issues.”

Lily let that go.

“I thought you didn’t drink,” he said.

“Watching me, Colton?” she asked. The smell of his fine cologne made her knees weak.

“Always.” His deep, smooth voice sent chills through her insides.

“I thought you preferred to wear gray,” he said next.