Secrets of a Wedding Night (7 page)

Colton might be a spendthrift, but Lily was not. If flowers were all she had to sell, then flowers she would sell. Fortune tended to help those who helped themselves.

Now you know.
Indeed. The flowers were Colton’s next volley. Well played. But the man obviously didn’t know with whom he was dealing. She would show him.

Colton was sure to be at the Foxdowns’ soiree tonight. She would attend too. She couldn’t help but feel oddly grateful to him for being her savior in this particular instance. Worse, she couldn’t tamp down the inexplicable urge to see him. She was appreciative, true. But if she thanked him, no doubt the blackguard would take it as a sign of weakness. He’d assume he was wearing her down. She hated to be rude, but there was no help for it.

She laid her head against the seat and closed her eyes. Hmm. Or, perhaps gratitude was just what this situation called for. Perhaps allowing him to
think
he was wearing her down was exactly what was needed. She smiled to herself.

She popped open her eyes. “Mary, as soon as we return home we must prepare my hair and clothing for the party tonight. I plan to wear my lavender ball gown.” Lily readjusted a vase on her lap.

Mary glanced across the mounds of flowers and nodded.

“Very well, Lord Colton,” Lily whispered into the petals. “I shall see your bet and raise you.”

CHAPTER 7

“I heard the pamphlet made Lady Underhill swoon. Swoon dead away in her own dressing room.” Lady Foxdown’s eyes sparkled with a hint of salaciousness as she spoke to her husband, not two paces away from Lily at the end of the ballroom.

Lily whipped out her fan. This particular conversation was not one she relished being a part of. “Is it insufferably hot in here?” she whispered to Viscount Medford who stood stalwart by her side.

“No warmer than usual,” Medford replied in his own whisper, his grin barely discernible.

“And what did Lord Underhill do?” Lord Foxdown asked his wife.

“Why, called for the maid to bring the smelling salts, and then promptly removed that scandalous text from his wife’s person.”

Lily gave the couple a pained smile. “I do hope Lady Underhill recovered,” she managed to say, fluttering the fan more quickly. Oh, but it was hot. And discussion of the pamphlet did nothing to improve her mood. She glanced longingly at the nearby double doors that led out onto the Foxdowns’ veranda. If only she could escape.

To make matters worse, Colton had been watching her all evening. He’d made no move to approach her, but she could feel his dark eyes on her like heavy weights. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or angry. The man had sent her a hothouse full of flowers this afternoon, and now he was staring her down. Obviously all part of his plot to drive her mad.

And why did he have to be so handsome? It would make the entire thing much simpler if he were not. Instead, he stood across the ballroom, with a bevy of beauties swirling about him like so many butterflies in a garden. His dark, superfine evening attire perfectly molded to his exquisite body, his height placed him head and shoulders above all other men in the room except Medford. His white teeth flashed when he laughed, his dark hair was slightly ruffled, and his unsettling gaze came back again and again to rest on Lily. And haunt her.

Her thoughts kept returning to the goodly sum of money she’d earned at Vauxhall that afternoon. Confound it, she had
him
to thank for it.

“And I heard another pamphlet is being written. One that promises to be even more scandalous,” Lady Foxdown whispered to their little group as she cut another glance at Lily.

Lily kept her face carefully blank. She didn’t dare look at Medford again. Lady Foxdown might interpret it as a sign of guilt. And oh, but she did so enjoy being guilty with Medford. The viscount, her very good friend, was the pinnacle of a Society gentleman. Respected, revered, a beacon of propriety. Only such a man could be a part of the
haut ton
and remain affiliated with a printing press. And only Medford could get away with printing that blasted pamphlet, without anyone disparaging him for it. No, the scandal was reserved for the anonymous author, not the gentleman who’d put the pamphlet into circulation.

Medford had a talent for having fun at the
ton’
s expense, without them realizing it. That was only one of his many endearing qualities. Another one was his deep sense of honor. He could always be counted upon, and had none of the airs one would expect from a man with his wealth, from an unimpeachable family. And he had the same wicked sense of humor that Lily did.

As Lady Foxdown droned on about the pamphlet, Lily’s mind traveled back to the night she’d met Medford.

They’d been seated next to each other at a musicale one evening four years ago. When their host’s daughter had begun singing in a voice that sounded much too much as if someone were slaughtering a sow, the two of them had been unable to contain their laughter.

Shaking, with tears threatening, they’d both bolted for the door at nearly the exact same moment. Medford had bowed politely to her, allowed her to precede him from the room, and managed to keep a straight face as he escorted her outside. They’d spent the remainder of that evening on the balcony, glad for the fresh air and the even more refreshing company.

Yes. Lord Medford was perfect in every particular, but those who knew him well, as Lily had come to, knew just how irreverent he could be. He was handsome, intelligent, and wealthy, but to Lily, Medford was just her stalwart companion. The only man she’d ever been able to trust. One upon whom she could always count. Her dear friend.

Lily sighed. It was beyond unfair that she felt no romantic attraction to Medford. He was like the brother she’d never had. Everything would have been so much easier if that were not the case. Why, if she could love the viscount, and he could love her back, all her money problems would be quite conveniently resolved.

But she didn’t love him. And she would never even consider entering into a marriage without love. Not again.

Lily eyed the verbose Lady Foxdown. Apparently, she and her husband hadn’t heard the rumors that Lily and Medford were responsible for the first pamphlet. Or perhaps the lady was merely fishing for information. Either way, Lady Foxdown would be disappointed. Besides, the gossip was false. Lily had no intention of writing another pamphlet. She’d taken an enormous risk to her reputation by writing the first one.

Lily rapidly fanned herself. The heat hadn’t been relieved one bit. Oh, why wasn’t she the kind of simpering twit who could fake an attack of the vapors? It would be the perfect excuse to remove herself from Lady Foxdown’s insipid company. But Lily just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

A flutter by her arm caught her attention, just before a large, warm, masculine hand slid across the small of her back. Gooseflesh sprinkled along her spine. She instinctively knew. Colton was there.

“Countess, you look as if you need some air. Allow me to escort you onto the veranda.” Colton’s voice. Deep, masculine, and tinged with arrogance as if he couldn’t conceive of her refusing him.

Medford stepped forward, his eyes narrowing at Colton. “If Lady Merrill is in need of some air, I would be happy to—”

“Three’s a crowd, Medford, or haven’t you heard?” Devon flashed a wicked grin, taking Lily by the arm. “You were always such a scholar at Cambridge, Medford, but it seems you missed a social lesson.”

Medford’s teeth clenched and he gave Colton a dark look. He leaned down next to Lily’s ear. “Don’t go off with that blackguard,” he whispered fiercely.

Lily pressed her lips together. She’d never heard such disapproval in Lord Medford’s voice before. “‘Blackguard’ is a bit harsh, don’t you think?” she whispered back.

Medford straightened and gave her a stiff nod. “I await your decision, Lady Merrill.”

Eager to avoid a scene, Lily hastened to reassure him. “Thank you, Lord Medford. I’ll be fine.” She gave him a pleading look and excused herself from the group.

Devon smirked at Medford and whisked Lily across the ballroom toward a set of double doors. His palm on the small of her back made Lily’s breathing hitch, and thoughts of Medford quickly faded.

Colton’s hand dropped away as they passed the refreshment table from which he plucked two glasses of champagne. Lily expelled her breath. Without him touching her she could breathe normally again. He nodded, ushering her through the open French doors.

Lily moved to a spot on the balcony far away from the other couples outside, and spread both hands on the railing.

It was truly a work of art, how Colton had so smoothly extricated her from the Foxdowns’ company, not to mention a disapproving Medford. Oh, yes, Devon Morgan plied his social skills like a master painter with a brush.

Lily reveled in the cool night air. Ah, it was lovely to be free from the stifling ballroom. She sucked in a deep breath and turned to face Colton. He stood in the moonlight, his shoulder propped against the stone wall of the house, his booted feet crossed at the ankles. How did that man manage to make debonair look so effortless?

She straightened her shoulders. “I suppose I should thank you for rescuing me from the awful heat in there.”

“No need,” he replied with his roguish grin, moving away from the wall, making his way slowly toward her. “I consider it a public service to rescue beautiful ladies from exceedingly dull conversation. Having suffered through countless awful conversations myself, I know what a chore it can be.”

Lily couldn’t help her answering smile. She tamped down the twinge of pleasure that shot through her belly at his mention of the word “beautiful.” “The conversation was worse than dull,” she admitted.

Colton moved closer. He offered her one of the champagne glasses. “You look as if you could use this.”

She didn’t take the flute from his long fingers. “No, thank you.”

He raised a brow. “You still don’t drink?”

“No.”

“Pity.”

He set her glass on the balcony railing next to her and slid his free hand into his pocket. Then he tipped his own glass to his lips and leaned back against the railing, his elbow braced against the stone balustrade.

He crossed his legs at the ankles again and gave Lily a sideways glance. “Tell me. What was the subject of the worse-than-dull conversation? Retainers? Land management? The ungodly cost of tea? Medford isn’t known for his stellar wit and repartee. I’ve no idea why you insist upon spending so much time in his company.”

Lily arched a brow. “I didn’t realize you were acquainted with Lord Medford, nor that you were aware of how much time I spend in his company.”

Colton barely shrugged. “Unfortunately, we’re more than acquainted. We were schoolmates at university.”

Lily nodded. “Ah, I see. And something tells me you didn’t like him back then either.”

Colton rolled his eyes. “Suffice it to say, Ashbourne and I were interested in more … social pursuits, and Medford was all about his studies and his marks.”

Lily laughed. “That sounds like Medford.”

“Tell the truth. He hasn’t gotten a bit more interesting, has he? What
were
you discussing back there?” Colton nodded toward the ballroom.

“We were discussing a certain pamphlet actually,” she admitted with a wry smile.

“Ah,
Secrets of a Wedding Night,
the subject on everyone’s lips these days. I must confess. I find it surprising you think it dull, considering you wrote the thing. Did you and Medford admit to your conspiracy to publish the piece?”

Lily traced a gloved finger around the edge of her reticule that hung from her wrist. She shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

He flashed her a knee-weakening smile. “Still keeping up the pretense that you had nothing to do with it, I see. I may not be there to rescue you next time. You might try to fake a swoon.”

She gave him a conspiratorial grin. “I did consider it.”

His crack of laughter echoed against the stonework. “I should have known you’d take matters into your own hands.” He winked at her.

“I always do.” She winked back. Ooh, where had that bit of sauciness come from?

His eyes grew warm like melted chocolate. He pulled his hand from his pocket and pushed a wayward curl behind her ear. “I’m pleased to see you’re no longer wearing those ridiculous mourning colors. You look absolutely stunning in that color.”

She glanced away and shrugged. “I decided you had a point. Perhaps it is time I stop wearing mourning colors.” It was a good thing that he liked the lavender. He’d certainly be seeing it more often. It was one of the few gowns she still possessed that hadn’t been dyed black or gray.

He rubbed his thumb against her cheek. Sparks ignited along Lily’s nerves at the touch of his hand. She clutched at the balustrade as if it were a lifeline and swallowed convulsively. “Thank you,” she whispered softly. “For the compliment … and the flowers.”

“You’re welcome,” he whispered back.

Lily fought her shiver and glanced away. They stood that way, comfortably silent, for several minutes. Finally, Lily sighed. “I suppose I had better return. No doubt Lord Medford will be looking for me soon.”

“I’m sure of it,” Colton replied. “But you cannot blame Medford. You are the most beautiful lady here, after all.”

Lily’s head snapped around to face him. That was twice he’d said she was beautiful. Was it possible he really meant it? “You … you think I’m beautiful?” Her voice cracked and she immediately regretted the question.

His coffee-colored eyes caught and held hers. “I’ve always thought you were beautiful, Lily.”

Her chest constricted. She couldn’t breathe. She was suspended in time. It was as if five years had never happened. She was back on the balcony with him at another ball, another night. And then, like now, she’d looked up into his eyes, and parted her lips, hoping he would kiss her.

Colton’s breath hitched and his face tightened. He set his empty glass on the balustrade, took her hand, and pulled her down the stone steps and out into the night. Before she could turn to face him, he’d pulled her into a shallow, shadowed cove where the other guests could not see them. His lips swooped down to capture hers.