Page 44 of The Grand Mistletoe Assembly
“I received no letter, unless Father destroyed it. I … I thought you were dead until my brother’s wife informed me of your marriage.”
His arms tightened. “I never really understood what Shakespeare meant by star-crossed lovers until now.”
They sat entwined, not speaking. A clock somewhere in the house chimed twelve times.
“I’m feeling better now. You can send me home and return to the assembly.”
“Must I?”
She raised her head and looked into his face. Amusement turned solemn as heat filled his deep blue eyes, and his mouth lowered to hers. Lily shuddered at the touch of his lips, afraid to unleash the passion that had been building between them. When he opened his mouth over hers, she was lost.
Blinding heat consumed her as clothing fell in heaps around them and his hard body met her soft one. Whispered murmurs of endearment fueled gentle kisses in places she’d never imagined, and she strained for more, her breath coming in gasps as strokes of velvet made her heart beat faster. And when the delicious pressure built to a searing crescendo, peace filled her senses and mingled with the lingering scent of bergamot, the taste of brandy, and a feeling of sensual joy that at last they had come together and become one.
The reality was so much more than what she’d imagined years ago when they’d playfully explored their sensuality, mindful of becoming too carried away, knowing they skirted propriety and dared fate with the risks they took. They’d even talked about an elopement, angry because their parents had forbidden their marriage until they were of age.
Now they were adults engaging in what they should have had if fate had been kinder, and oh, it was worth the wait. Boneless and content after an hour of mindless pleasure, Lily closed her eyes and drifted into a dreamless sleep.
When she awakened a short time later, she found herself in a large bed, her beloved beside her, his breathing deep. She rose and tiptoed to the window, noting the darkness outside. If she was careful, and quiet, she could slip away. Events as lavish as the Grand Mistletoe Assembly did not end until almost dawn. No one would find it strange when she let herself into her niece’s townhouse. The trick would be to find a hackney at this hour. She had no idea where Alastair’s house was located.
Leaving her corset and various petticoats behind, Lily fastened her gown the best she could and wrapped herself in the hooded cloak. She clutched her reticule and made her way to the front door. A night porter was on duty, and she stiffened her backbone and confronted him, as if a woman leaving the premises in the wee hours of the morning was a common event. “Would you be so kind as to find me a hackney, young man?”
If he was flustered, he gave no indication as he bowed and went outside. He returned a short time later and graciously assisted her into the coach. She gave the coachman her direction and prepared a story in case Emily was awake. Oh Lord. She hoped Emily hadn’t needed the physician. If she had, she would have sent a note to her father.
No one was about when she arrived at Cardmore House, with the exception of Emily’s night footman, who knew she’d been out.
“Good evening, or should I say good morning?” She greeted Miles and climbed the stairs to her chamber. She’d been told to awaken Alice, but she would do no such thing.
After removing the gown, which was half-unbuttoned in the back, she took the rest of the pins out of her hair, put on her wool nightgown, and crawled into bed. Sleep would not come soon. When it did, she was sure it would bring absolute contentment and a sense of peace.
Alastair had given her a gift beyond measure—a new, delicious memory to take out and relive again and again in the coming years of loneliness. He had made love to her despite her confession. Most likely, he would not want her to leave, and yet she must. Hannah was still in Town and appeared to now move in the best circles. She still told anyone who would listen about Lily’s scandalous secret. Alastair had a daughter who was about to become betrothed. Society was cruel. Association with a scandalous woman could jeopardize the girl’s engagement. As much as she loved Alastair, she could not do that to him and his daughter.
She would leave, and she would remind herself each day that she had done the right thing.
She did not deserve happiness, because Hannah was right. Shehadkilled her husband, and the guilt would be her penance for the rest of her life.
CHAPTER 7
Lily wandered into the breakfast room early and found Emily already seated. Her plate was piled high with kippers, eggs, and toast.
“How can you eat all of that?”
Emily swallowed. “I’m eating for two, remember. Did you enjoy the assembly? I wanted to stay up and hear all about it, but I fell asleep in front of the fire. Spencer awakened me and called Alice to put me to bed.” She leaned closer. “You can tell me now.”
Lily sat at her place and asked the footman for coffee. “It was quite a crush, and Pearler House was magnificent. I daresay the organizers of the event were pleased. I have to guess the proceeds from ticket sales and the auction raised a good deal of money for the foundling home.”
Emily sat forward in her chair. “Whose bid won your painting?”
“I’m not sure. There was so much going on I didn’t follow all of the proceedings.”
Her niece made a face. “I’m truly disappointed. Perhaps Papa will know. He sent a note saying he’s calling here sometime this morning.”
Lily squirmed. “I see.” She gulped down her coffee, nibbled her toast, and excused herself.
“You’ve hardly eaten, and I wanted to ask you about Selwick. Did you dance with him? Can I hope you two became closer?”
“Indeed we did. Dance, that is. And yes, we became much closer.” Too close, but her niece must never know.
Emily clapped her hands. “I knew it. Your old romance has been reawakened.”
