Sweet Torture (Fated for Love) (19 page)

“There is a small climb to the overlook, or as Henry here suggested, the lawn is freshly clipped and dry.”

“I will fare better on the lawn, I suspect,” Devon admitted sheepishly.

He stood and offered his arm, but when Lydia tucked her hand in his
elbow, she took some of his weight to ease his effort.

Reaching the lawn, the
footman spread the blanket and uncorked the bottle of lemon water before leaving them. Lydia handed Devon a sandwich. They sat in silence for a spell, absorbing the quietness and relishing the gentle breeze. Soon fall would be here, and the wind coming from the ocean would be bitterly cold.

Devon was the first to break the silence.

“Olivia seems to be enjoying herself.”

Lydia smiled
. “It was only this past spring that she told me about her feelings for Colton. It seems so long ago now.”

“So tis Colton now?” He raised one brow.

“With his permission, of course. There’s no use remaining so formal when it’s just your family and mine.”

“We are rather cut off from the world here
,” Devon mused.

“I rather like it
. I feel free.”

“I really have seen everything now
,” Devon teased.

Lydia rolled her eyes.
“The only person who puts me on a pedestal is you. I am quite an average individual, you know. We all wear masks in polite society. You were the consummate rake and I—.”

“The ice queen.”

“No one dared call me such, but you.”

“No one was brave enough.”

“Or foolish enough,” Lydia returned.

Devon smiled slowly and tossed his
half-eaten sandwich into the basket. He leaned back on the blanket as he looked up into the canopy of the oak that shaded them.

Lydia watched him from beneath her lashes. At some point of following her from the room
, he had buttoned and tucked in his shirt. She thought about what to say next, and how to make polite meaningless conversation when their future happiness was at stake. How could she hide her true feelings?

“How long will you stay once you are feeling better?” She asked quietly. She didn’t want to come off as prying
, but it was vital information. She would prefer them to stay here in the quiet seclusion, giving him all the time he needed to love her again. But if she had to, she would follow him anywhere.

“As long as I need to,
and after that I’ll return to London.”

Her heart sank. Given his tenacity
, that could only be a matter of days.

“Even for the winter?”

He shrugged.

So
if he wasn’t going to be forthcoming, she would have to change the subject to something light hearted to draw him out again.

“I wonder how quickly Olivia will start
breeding,” he said suddenly.

Lydia froze, glass tipped to her lips. She slowly lowered it and kept her face
averted lest he see her expression.

“Br-eeding?”
She stuttered.

“Opposed to the term?
Fine then, enceinte—is that more to your liking?”

She nodded slowly and held a carefully composed expression. “You really wish to discuss this?”

“I fancy the idea of being an uncle. I think I would be good at it.”

Lydia finally looked at him. He was completely unaware of her distress and perfectly relaxed, stretched out fully with his boots crossed at the ankles and his arms folded behind his head.

She wanted to stand and walk away, perhaps cry, but that would not bring her any closer to winning his heart. It would probably confound him, and only raise uncomfortable questions and conversations—things he did not want.

This was misery.

Why couldn’t this be easy, why couldn’t they just embrace their second chance to be together? Hadn’t they both lost enough already? Why did he have to be so stubborn and make everything more difficult than it had to be?

She was
suddenly overwrought with guilt. She wanted to tell him all, but if she did, he might only marry her out of duty and obligation. She wanted his love; she wanted a marriage bursting at the seams with it. Would he hate her for lying by omission, or understand that her motives were for his benefit as well as hers? She wanted him to be able to walk away from her if he truly wanted to, but could he walk away from his own child? Lydia had already resigned herself to raising a child alone in obscurity, with only her mother for support, before Devon was found. Now he was here, wistfully contemplating the joys of becoming an uncle and all the while, he was soon to be a father. Would he hate her?

She turned away again and pretended to look out over the lawn. Her heart was
sinking; her plans seemed all at once foolish, manipulative, and doomed to fail. She covertly wiped at a tear and tried to steady her roiling emotions by taking calm, even breaths.

“You’ve gone quiet
,” He said behind her.

“Just thinking about what you said,”
as she tried to sound serene. “Olivia will make an excellent mother.”

“She’s had lots of practice between t
he two of us.”

Lydia laughed unexpectedly
. “That’s true enough.” She quickly dabbed her eyes dry before glancing back at him. “Will Captain Colton retire from sea?”

“Perhaps, or at least keep the trips short. H
e’s a besotted husband, if I’ve ever seen one. It’s positively nauseating to be in the same room with them.”

Lydia smiled and tur
ned to face him again. “I think it’s sweet. Olivia has always been such a hopeless romantic, and now she has all the romance she needs.”

“Don’t remind me,”
he made a disgusted face.

“You are the one who brought up breeding
,” She said tartly.

“That was rather crass
,” he admitted.

“You crass?”
She widened her eyes in mock surprise.

He smiled at her, a true smile of enjoyment that turned her stomach to butterflies.

She looked away, her cheeks feeling incredibly hot. “We should get back.”

“Anxious to get me back to bed?”

Her eyes snapped back to his, her cheeks positively on fire now. “Certainly not! I mean—”

He laughed, and she fumbled for words. His bold teasing had scattered her wits. She wasn’t prepared for flirtation, not when her
heart felt so brittle. If only he knew how often she had lain awake at night remembering their one night together.

“That isn’t funny
, Devon, not unless you mean it.” The words shot out on their own accord, and she turned away from him, half in anger, half in embarrassment.

“Lydia…”

She kept her back to him. “Can you make it to your room alone? I’ll send Henry to pick up after us, and if you wait, he will assist you.” She left him there—rather stunned she suspected, and made a full retreat for her room.

Devon watched her leave in stunned silence. What did she say? His foggy mind struggled to recall the words.

Not
unless you mean it?

Dear God.

Those words had bowled him over like a runaway carriage. Did she want to sleep with him? A wave of longing so acute washed over him and it changed everything. Every poisonous word he said to her, every meaning of every thought and action. He was a bloody fool to pretend he didn’t want her. She had made herself clear about what she wanted from him, the stuff his deepest fantasies were made of, and he had thrown it all back in her face to hurt her. But it was all lies. Of course, he wanted her, but fear is a dark and tangible thing. It’s insidious and makes one doubt even the most obvious of things.

Like love.

Not unless you mean it.

It wasn’t funny at all
—no scenario of taking Lydia to bed was remotely humorous, but it was enlightening. She has changed quite a bit, his Lydia. She was stronger, surer, more intense, and more vivid. She knew what she wanted now, undeniably, and she wasn’t going to let anything stop her, not even him. Thank God, the thing that she wanted most was he. He closed his eyes, the dapples of sunlight causing blotches of light and shadow behind his eyes, and a strange feeling came over him. It was almost like the first time he had smoked opium; sweeping warmth through the blood, tingling, giddiness, supreme relaxation, and a peace unlike any other. However, this time it was not the opium. He was experiencing a change within himself, a shift away from the darkness and into the light. A golden warm light shed by Lydia. She had been his downfall, and now she would be his savior.

But how to go about it? Parts of his body immediately offered up seduction as a means to a satisfying end
, but no, that was too easy. He smiled wolfishly. Not that it wouldn’t play a major role, but he would have to be craftier than that. He would need to prove that his feelings went beyond the physical; otherwise, she might think he was taking advantage. He couldn’t have that. This was a new beginning, a second chance for both of them.

He opened his eyes an
d Henry was standing over him looking perplexed.

“Are you
feeling ill, my lord?”

“Never been better
, Henry. I will need help to my room though.” Devon slowly got to his feet. His stamina was subpar, and that would take time to recover. He hated feeling like such a weakling, but he could use it to his advantage. He could seduce Lydia slowly, reawakening their shared desire little by little until it grew bigger and brighter than it were before.

It was a short walk back to his room. Sending Henry away, Devon entered and collapsed onto
his bed. He smiled a deliciously diabolical smile. He couldn’t wait to put his plan into action.

Lydia contemplated not returning to Devon for the rest of the day, but those thoughts reeked of cowardice, and she didn’t have the time for such things.

She knocked softly on his door
, and entered when she heard his command to do so.

“So you’ve returned to the lions den.”

He was on sprawled his bed looking very much like a lion in his lair.

“Hardly
. No one else will put up with you now. I’ve brought books. She tossed them on the bed at his feet, not willing to move closer.

He had an odd look about him, a deviant look that made her uneasy.

He slid to the foot of the bed on his knees as he picked up one book and then another to inspect them.

“Hamlet? The Art of Growing
Succulents? He raised an eyebrow.

“Reading stimulates the mind.” She turned away from him and pretended an interest in the
painted landscape above the mantel.

“You think I need stimulation?”

Lydia bit her lip. She didn’t need to look at him as she could tell by his sultry tone that he was in a wicked mood. Something had clearly changed this afternoon. Suddenly her bodice felt too tight. Was he changing his mind already? It felt too good to be true, perhaps he was merely teasing. Perhaps he was returning to his older, devilish self and—as before—she was the easy target for his salacious wit. Or perhaps he had decided, that given they had already been intimate, and combined with what she had said this afternoon, that he had other ideas for how they could spend their time together.

The thought alone brought a fever to her skin. She sur
reptitiously cast a glance at the door, and she was relieved to see she had left it open. She smiled serenely and turned to face him.

“Reading is an exemplary pastime when one is ill. Shall I read to you? Or I can fetch my needle work while you read silently to yourself?”

He narrowed his eyes at her.

She tilted her head coyly to the side and folded her hands behind her back. “Is there something else you wish to do? We can play cards? If you are feeling up to it we can move to the library and invite Colton and Olivia to join us?”

“No.” He scowled and moved to sit back against the pillows.

She thought about asking him directly what he wished to do
, but she feared his answer would be equally direct and altogether, positively wicked. She sighed and moved to sit in the chair by the fireplace. “We can sit in silence then.”

Devon rolled his eyes. “Why don’t we play cards
, just the two of us? Olivia put a deck here in the drawer for me days ago.”

Lydia nodded and looked about the room. “Where shall we play?”

“Here on the bed, there is plenty of room for two.” He winked.

Lydia folded her arms against her chest and raised a dubious brow. “That is highly
—” 

“Improper
, yes, but so is your playing a nursemaid to me, so let’s dispense with any notion of propriety altogether, shall we? Our time together will be infinitely more entertaining.”