Secrets of a Wedding Night (30 page)

Lily looked up at him with a heartbreakingly vulnerable look on her face. “Why? Why would you want to marry me?”

“I have to marry sometime, don’t I?” Devon said. “And you do happen to be the reason my hand is free at the moment.”

“And one woman is as good as another?” Lily shook her head.

*   *   *

Devon regarded her. He couldn’t keep the smile from his face. It was true that when this had all begun, he’d been intent on revenge, but so much had happened between them over the last days, he couldn’t even recall now why he’d been so hell-bent on it in the first place. And for some reason he’d been unable to let her go to Northumberland. The thought of her marrying Medford filled him with anger, an anger born of jealousy. He’d told Lily once that he was never jealous. But over the last few days he realized it wasn’t true. No, he couldn’t let her marry Medford. Couldn’t live with it if it happened. And if she would just see reason, she’d realize this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. This way, she and Annie could stay in London, and Annie’s reputation would be saved. Lily must see that.

When the coach pulled to a stop in front of the town house where she was staying, Devon escorted Lily to her door. She let herself inside and turned to face him. Devon leaned in and kissed her cheek.

“Don’t worry about a thing,” he said. “I’ll make all the arrangements. No one will know. We’ll keep the wedding secret, no servants. Everyone will think we were married in Scotland.”

Lily placed her hand on his sleeve. “Devon, I need time.” She drew a deep breath. “A day. I’ll give you my answer tomorrow night.”

*   *   *

She climbed the stairs to her bedchamber, her feet feeling like leaden weights. She didn’t bother summoning Mary. Lily needed to be alone … to think. She wrapped herself in her night rail and robe and paced the worn carpet in her bedchamber.

She was torn. It would serve Devon right to marry her and discover she was poor. On the other hand, she couldn’t very well let him shackle himself to her for eternity not knowing she was destitute. Even if it would save her sister’s reputation.

At least Lily knew if she married him, their future in the bedchamber wouldn’t be awful. That part was downright tempting actually.

She shook her head. There was more to consider. What about Annie’s future? As much as Lily might be willing to marry Devon regardless of his own lack of money, the fact was, they would be forced to live on his inconsistent gambling winnings. She shuddered. She couldn’t do
that
to her sister. But the alternative was allowing Annie to face the scandal of an elopement.

Lily pulled her robe tighter around her middle and stared out the window into the darkness. She shivered. What would she do? What could she do?

*   *   *

Lily waited in Lord Medford’s well-appointed drawing room, her stomach in knots. She owed him an explanation. A thousand explanations.

She hadn’t slept last night. Or today either. No doubt the circles under her eyes were proof of that. She’d spent the entire evening tossing in bed, trying to come to a decision that made the most sense for everyone. She’d spent the day pacing the floor of her borrowed bedchamber, weighing the possibilities. Now, it was late at night and it was time for her decisions.

The door opened and Lily sucked in her breath. Lord Medford strode in, his familiar countenance so welcome. Lily expelled her breath.

Medford’s face was tight. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Lady Merrill? Or should I call you the Marchioness of Colton now?”

Lily winced. He’d heard the rumors. Of course he’d heard the rumors. And beneath his devil-may-care façade, she sensed Medford’s anger.

Lily stood and hurried over to him. “I came to explain.”

“My lady.” He bowed and offered her a seat again. Lily’s heart tugged. He was being so kind. Kind and civilized. Just like Medford.

She reluctantly sat down. Turning her face up to him, she bit her lip. “I am not married.”

His shoulders relaxed a bit. “Engaged?”

Lily shook her head. “No. But Colton did ask me.”

“And what did you tell him?” She could tell Medford was holding his breath.

She smoothed her skirts. “That’s why I’m here. I must answer to my first offer of marriage before I answer to the second.”

Medford squared his shoulders. “And your answer, to me, is … no?”

She stared at her hands folded in her lap so serenely, completely belying her inner turmoil. “I’m sorry, James. So sorry.” A lump formed in her throat.

His voice was soft. “That’s the first time you ever called me ‘James.’ Did you know that?”

She intertwined her fingers and squeezed. “Please believe I never would have purposely hurt you. But we don’t love each other. You know that. I’ve taken advantage of your friendship too much already. I couldn’t allow you to shackle yourself to me for all eternity.”

Medford shook his head. “You don’t owe me an explanation, Countess.” He paused. “Or shall it be Marchioness?” A wry half-smile appeared on his lips.

Lily winced again. “I do owe you an explanation. I should have answered your proposal that day at the house party.”

“You’re entertaining Colton’s proposal, aren’t you?”

“It’s complicated. I cannot explain it to you because…” She bit her lip. “I don’t understand it myself.”

Medford’s handsome face was a cold mask.

“There’s something else.” Lily shut her eyes briefly. “James, I … I cannot write the second pamphlet.”

The skin around his eyes crinkled. He reached out and squeezed her hand. “I know, Lily. I knew that the moment I’d heard the rumor that you’d married him.”

She hung her head. “I’m sorry.”

Medford stood and paced away from her, his arms folded behind his back. “I’m worried for you, Lily. You don’t know him as you think you do. There are rumors about him. Ugly rumors.”

She swallowed. “I know. He’s a gambler. I’ve known that for years.”

Medford turned to face her, an intent look in his eye. “He’s playing in a tournament tonight. A large, illegal tournament in the Rookery. No decent gentleman would engage in such a game. His opponent is a fellow named Gilbert Winfrey. The man is known as the Lord of the Underworld. Colton’s rubbing elbows with the vermin of the streets. This is the man you’re considering marrying.”

Lily wrapped her arms around her middle. She spoke slowly. “I knew he was playing in a tournament. The rest does not surprise me.”

Medford shoved a hand through his normally perfect hair. “That is the type of life you wish for yourself? The type of husband you would choose over me?” A muscle ticked in his jaw.

“James, please,” she whispered, covering her face with her hands.

Medford took a deep breath. “My apologies for upsetting you, Lily. It’s just that…” He took a deep breath. “There is something else.”

A stab of fear streaked through her chest. She looked up at him. “What is it?”

His voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “They say Colton is harboring his by-blow at his country estate. A five-year-old boy named Justin.”

Lily clutched at the arm of her chair. A by-blow? A
five-year-old
by-blow? Her chest was in a vise. “No. That cannot be true. Who told you such a thing?” But the name Justin conjured a memory. Master Justin, from the letter she’d glimpsed in Devon’s room.

Medford dropped his hands to his sides. He moved to where she sat and knelt beside her, his eyes searching her face. “The rumors have been rampant since your supposed elopement. All anyone can talk about is you and Colton.” He sneered the last word. “Lily, I’m afraid for you. If you were to marry him, you may be a widow again sooner than you think. They say Gilbert Winfrey is favored to win, but the man never plays fair. If Devon wins, he may end up on the wrong side of a knife. Don’t marry him, Lily.”

Lily shuddered. She couldn’t utter any words. None of them would make it past her dry lips. The gambling was awful enough, but now she must fear for Devon’s life? What other secrets was he hiding from her? She might not really want to know, but she had to find out.

She squeezed Medford’s hand. “I must go, James. Thank you for everything. You’re a dear friend.”

CHAPTER 32

Lily arrived at Devon’s town house a quarter of an hour later. She leaped down the carriage steps and hurried into the house. Taking a deep breath, she dashed up the stairs to Devon’s bedchamber and flung open the door.

Devon was still there. He hadn’t left for his tournament yet. She closed her eyes briefly and let out her pent-up breath. He was safe. For now.

She moved into the room, watching him. He was putting the finishing touches on his cravat. He inclined his head toward her when she appeared behind him in the looking glass.

He gave her a sly grin. “Made your decision and couldn’t wait to tell me?”

Lily approached him slowly with her arms folded tightly across her chest. “Who is Justin
?
”

Devon pulled the cravat tight and turned to her, his face blank. “Where did you hear that name?”

Her voice shook. “Lord Medford told me. Justin is your by-blow, isn’t he? From five years ago? That’s why you left me.”

Devon’s nostrils flared. “I do not particularly care for that term. Justin is my
son
.”

“He’s the reason you left?”

He nodded. Once.

“And his mother?” She squeezed her middle so tightly it hurt.

“My former mistress.”

She closed her eyes, willing herself to ask the questions she didn’t want to know the answers to. “Did you love her?”

“No. But I love Justin more than my own life.”

She tossed her hands in the air. “What else aren’t you telling me, Devon?”

He turned to face her head-on. He took two steps toward her, reached out, and ran his hands up and down her arms. “I can understand you’re upset, Lily, and I will tell you everything you want to know, but it must wait.”

Lily shook her head. “I’ve waited long enough.”

Devon squeezed her arms softly and looked her in the eye. “You must trust me, just for tonight. I promise I will explain everything tomorrow.”

Lily pulled away from him. She paced the floor, her arms crossed over her middle again. “You’re going? To that tournament of scoundrels? Really?”

“Did Medford tell you that too?” he scoffed. “Yes. I must go.”

Lily swallowed. Medford’s words flashed across her brain.
“If you were to marry him, you may be a widow again sooner than you think. He may end up on the wrong side of a knife.”

She turned to Devon, her voice trembling, knowing their entire future would be decided in the next moment. “Devon, I cannot marry you unless you promise never to gamble again. Promise me you won’t play in the tournament tonight.”

Devon expelled his breath. Moving over to her, he reached out and traced his thumb along her cheekbone. “Lily,” he whispered softly. “That is the one promise I cannot make.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. Oh, God, she couldn’t bear it. She loved him. She did. And she couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to him … but she also couldn’t bear marrying him and then losing him. No. She couldn’t love this man and keep her heart constantly in peril.

She nodded toward the door. “Go if you must,” she whispered brokenly. “But I won’t be here when you return. I’m going to Northumberland.”

Devon’s voice was even, measured, but fire sparked in his dark eyes. “Things are not what they seem. You must trust me.”

Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks, but she fought them back. “I cannot.” Her voice cracked.

A tic leaped in Devon’s jaw. “After everything that’s happened, why won’t you trust me?”

Lily hugged her arms around herself, squeezing her nails into her flesh. Hard. “You’ve kept your son a secret from me all this time. What other secrets do you have, Devon? I cannot be the wife of a penniless gambler.”

He stiffened and moved behind her. His harsh whisper fell on her neck and made her want him and made her hate herself for wanting him. His voice was flat. “Money is that important to you? Then it seems we both must do what we both must do.”

Thank God her back was toward him so he wouldn’t see the tears welling in her eyes.

She had lived her entire life controlled by men. She couldn’t do it anymore. She must take charge of her own destiny and if that meant living apart from him, so be it.

No. Money wasn’t the only thing that mattered in the world, but without it how could they feed themselves? How could they keep Annie safe? Devon’s credit would run out eventually. Lily had spent her childhood worried about her parents’ fortunes amid her own father’s gambling debts. How could Devon ever understand how much it frightened her to be at the whim of an addiction?

She squeezed her arms around her middle and tried to keep her voice from shaking. “Good-bye, Devon.”

Devon moved past her toward the door and Lily waited until she could no longer hear the clip of his boots on the stairs before she slumped to the floor. She could not, would
not,
allow a man to play havoc with her emotions again. If she married Devon, she would be giving him the keys to her heart with no guarantees. She had to leave. She must go.

For a moment last night, when Devon had asked her to marry him, she’d thought she’d had what she’d always wanted. Now she knew she had nothing at all.

CHAPTER 33

Devon stared out the window into the darkness as the carriage rattled closer to the Rookery. Jordan Holloway sat across from him. Whatever temporary lunacy had overtaken Devon when he’d thought he could marry Lily was over now. Thank God.

Lily had issued him an ultimatum. Ultimatums had never sat well with him. Defeating Winfrey, regaining his signet ring, those were two things he’d promised his father and he would not break that promise. If he did, he’d be just like his bloody father.

Yes, he could have explained everything to Lily, told her why he had to go, but she’d immediately thought the worst of him. She didn’t trust him. And trust was something he demanded in a partner.

So be it. She could have her perfect Medford.