Chapter Eight

For the second time in as many days, Lily found herself standing outside the tea shop on bustling St. James Street. This time, she did not go inside. It was a rare sunny day, ladies strolling with their bonnets pulled low to shield their faces. Half of Mayfair must have turned out to partake of the shop’s renowned sweets. Inside, the air was thick and sweaty, the scent of sweet breads and cinnamon mixing with the musk. Although her sisters happily indulged themselves, Lily’s stomach had tied itself into more convoluted twists than the pastry knots served inside. She awaited Reid Chatterley outside the door—and he was tardy. That, if anything, rankled worse than the task he had demanded of her.

She wiped her sweaty palms on her skirts and turned her face up to the sun. Her heart pounded painfully, anxiety tightening its hold until she could think of nothing except for how this endeavor might turn awry. Her sisters thought she had escaped for a breath of fresh air. She’d made that excuse twenty minutes ago. And Adam…

He had insisted upon accompanying them out of the house, but her sisters’ censure had driven him into the bookshop next door. In the street bustling with men and women, Lily had never felt so alone or adrift.

“Lily. You look lovely.”

Reflexively, Lily offered her hand to the man who stepped abreast of her. He gave a short bow over it, his eyes twinkling and his smile wide. In the light of day, Reid resembled the hard man she had faced in his study in only the most peripheral of ways. His smile gave his face a youthful, open look. His hair, neatly combed, matched the pristine jacket and waistcoat he wore. All in shades of soft, warming brown. He squeezed her hand, looking her over.

“When I didn’t hear from you immediately, I feared you had taken ill.”

The reminder of her predicament ignited her anger. She pulled her hand back, fisting it at her side. How vain had he become that he thought illness the only reason she might avoid his company?

Oblivious to the turn of her thoughts, he gestured to the door of the shop. “May I buy you a cup of tea or a pastry?”

It was the least he owed her for this trouble. If not for him, she wouldn’t have lain awake for half the night battling the acute awareness of her husband, sleeping beyond the adjoining door. Thoughts of Adam would not have consumed her, the fruitless question of his fidelity all these years and the subsequent chiding of the turn of her thoughts. Lily didn’t care whether he had bedded another woman.

Or so she told herself.

Stiffly, she forced a polite smile. “No, thank you. Would you care to take a stroll?”

Adjusting the topper on his head to shield his eyes from the sun, he gaily offered her his arm. “If you don’t care for the tea shop, why don’t we peruse the bookshop?” His expression brightened, a shadow of the young man she’d known. “The bookshop will be quieter and more private.”

And it contained Adam. If Reid came face to face with her husband…

“No. I prefer the open air.”

A horse plodded by, lifting its tail to bequeath the cobblestones with a gift from its rear end. The stench of refuse curled through the air. Reid wrinkled his nose. From the look on his face, he thought her mad. She tugged on his arm, towing him past the door. He gave the books in the window one last lingering look, then sighed.

“Very well. But I do think a new book will do you well. I borrowed a fascinating volume from the lending library the other day and—”

Lily’s fingers hooked into claws on his sleeve. How dare he go on as if they were good friends! “I don’t have much time for reading.”

Reid looked aghast. “My dear, you must make time.”

“That isn’t the matter of which I’d prefer to speak, and you know it. Let’s not pretend we’re friends anymore.”

The enthusiasm in his eyes dimmed. He strolled sedately, tilting his chin down to assess her as a solemn air enveloped him. “We could have remained friends. Better than friends, if you hadn’t made a foolhardy choice.”

Surely he couldn’t be implying… “You never showed the least interest in”—she choked on the word—“marriage.”

“Neither did you. Until him.”

In other words, Reid hadn’t realized what he wanted until she’d chosen someone else. But would he have proven any better, in the end? Not if he was capable of this callousness. Lily certainly didn’t want him now. She didn’t want anyone.

“You’re right,” she bit off. “I made a foolhardy choice.”

In choosing to marry at all.

They paused at the junction of streets, waiting for a carriage to pass before crossing with clipped steps. Lily didn’t trust herself to speak. Acid curdled in her throat.

On the far side, Reid said, “I’ve changed, you know. Now I pursue what I want.”

She clenched her jaw and raised her face to his. She felt as though diamond had crusted over her expression, hard and sharp. “Like the artifact you’ve tasked me to retrieve?”

He hesitated. His expression turned businesslike, a blessing. When they turned the corner, he asked, “I take it you’ve considered my offer?”

“I’ll do it.” The only answer she could give—as he must have anticipated.

To his credit, he didn’t look satisfied, but grim. “The item I want is an armband. I sold it to Lord Granby about three months after my father died.” He pulled a folded letter from his pocket and handed it to her unceremoniously. “This is a rough sketch of the band, drawn before it was sold. It’s a few years old and a bit wrinkled, but I’m sure it will help you to identify it. I hope two weeks will be soon enough for you to retrieve it?”

Lily stopped in her tracks as she struggled to breathe. She fumbled with the paper, stuffing it in a wad into her reticule, out of sight. “Two weeks?” Her voice was high and thin with panic.

The mummy unveiling to which she had garnered an invitation would take place next week. After that, she would have little more than a week to insinuate herself into Lord Granby’s good graces, earn an invitation to his house, and steal his prized possession. It was too little time.

Her lips trembled. “I cannot invite my way into a stranger’s home that quickly. You know how slowly the ton cultivates associations. Unless you can finagle an invitation?”

Reid’s grimace spoke volumes. He could not gain her entry. “Very well. If it will take more time, I expect you to keep me apprised.”

She blew out a breath, the constriction around her chest easing. “That, I can do.”

He resumed walking, but she tightened her hold on his arm and held him still. “Reid, there is something else you should know…”

He didn’t look at her. “What is that?”

She swallowed thickly. “My…” She didn’t want to claim Adam as her husband, not after the way he had abandoned her. She swallowed and tried again. “Adam is in town. He is more proficient with this sort of thing, and I’ve sought out his expertise. I thought… I thought you’d want to know.”

When Reid turned to her, all semblance of his affability disappeared. He pierced her with a gaze that could have frozen the Thames. “Is he necessary?”

She licked her lips. “I’ve never stolen before. I fear he is.” When she couldn’t meet his gaze any longer, she dropped her attention to the shiny buttons on his waistcoat. Her tongue stuck to the top of her dry mouth.

“Don’t let him fool you again.”

Reid’s voice was so soft, it scarcely reached her ears. She trembled with the emotion welling inside her. She slept mere feet away from a man she loathed, a man who had hurt her, and still she couldn’t banish the desire to open the adjoining door and join him. If she succumbed to the intoxicating pleasure of his touch, he would tear her asunder. Again.

“I won’t. I know better.”

Slipping the fingers of his cool leather gloves beneath her chin, Reid tilted her head up. His expression mixed earnestness with a vengeful edge. “If he touches you, hurts you…”

You’ll challenge him to a duel? He might do it, fight for her honor in deed the way he had in word prior to her marriage. He’d warned her away from Adam from the beginning, but she hadn’t listened. But if he set down such a challenge, she had no doubt that one or both men would die. Both had done terrible things to her, but she didn’t want them dead.

“Trust me, I won’t let Adam get the upper hand again.”

For a moment, Reid hesitated, as though he wanted to say something more. When he spoke, it wasn’t to protest. “In that case, I’ll take my leave of you. Let me walk you to your sisters. And send word when you contact Lord Granby.”

…

The bookshop’s wide window, piled high with books on velvet pillows, faced onto the street. Despite standing in front of a bookshelf crammed with books, Adam hadn’t paid mind to the titles since Lily had walked out of sight with that cad. Every muscle in his body was on edge. What if Chatterley hurt her? Adam should be out there, protecting her.

Chatterley needed her to perform his misdeeds, and Adam had made himself indispensable. But that manipulator could easily turn her against Adam. Did Chatterley want Lily for himself? It was a question Adam had never been able to answer, not even four years ago when they’d been close friends.

More importantly, what claim did Adam want to make? She was his wife.

Yes, but she wasn’t the same woman he’d married. She’d changed. What if he fought for her only to discover they no longer suited? She loathed him for his part in what had happened, but…

She was his wife.

His chest ached from alternately holding his breath and forcing himself to breathe during the interminably long minutes she was away. She’d known he waited in the bookshop, where he could keep an eye on the proceedings in case Chatterley overstepped himself. And still, she’d led the man away. The look she’d cast in his direction before doing so informed him beyond the shadow of a doubt that the act had been deliberate.

Although Chatterley’s demeanor had been friendly, perhaps even playful, when they’d strolled out of sight, by the time they returned, he menaced over Lily. He wore a cold expression like he did his jacket, an adornment meant for the lady at his side. She looked no happier to be in his company. How had his temper turned so foul? Adam’s stomach threatened to turn itself inside out.

You’re being fanciful.

Perhaps he was. On a crowded street with all of Mayfair as his witness, Chatterley couldn’t have laid a hand to her.

But what had he said?

As the man lifted his attention toward the bookshop, Adam turned his back. He forced himself to walk down the aisle, pretending to peruse the shelves which could have held tinderboxes rather than books for the note he took of them. His mouth was as dry as ash. He strained his ears over the rustle of footsteps and paper from the few other patrons in the shop. At last, the door opened, a yawning sound accompanied by the volley of voices from the street beyond.

But had Lily entered—or Chatterley?

In the corner of the shop, he stopped and tried to read the volumes. Those that didn’t have titles embossed on the spines, he pulled out and stared at the covers. It didn’t help to occupy him, but it provided him with some measure of invisibility.

Footsteps approached, ending at his elbow. “Are you reading that?”

Lily. The knot of tension between his shoulders loosened. She was by his side again, close enough to protect. He arched an eyebrow, drumming his fingers along the leather-bound cover in time to his heartbeat. “Of course.”

She smirked. “Then why are you holding it upside down?”

He glanced at the volume, poetry by his estimate, and slammed it back onto the shelf.

She raised her eyebrows. “You were spying on me.”

“You led him out of sight.” Unlike her words, which were teasing, he bit his off like unpalatable morsels. They tasted of rancor.

Taken aback, her playful mien disappeared. In its place, she was as hard and glittering as one of the jewels she carved. “I had to. He wanted to bring me in here. He would have seen you. I had…”

Adam braced himself for her excuse. That she had no other choice.

Softly, she said, “I had to tell him about our situation first. I owe him that much.”

Adam swallowed bile. Him, she considered the devil. But she owed Chatterley, who was at this very moment blackmailing her into stealing an artifact he had willingly sold. For a man with no history with manipulation, Chatterley was a master.

“And did you?”

As Lily tilted her head back to look at him, her lips thinned. “I did.”

Adam arched his eyebrows. “I take it he wasn’t pleased.”

“He never was.” She hesitated, half turning away before she admitted, “Before our wedding, he begged me not to marry you.”

Adam’s muscles tightened. Why would she confess this now?

“Did he offer to marry you instead?”

Lily wrinkled her nose. “Don’t be absurd. We’ve known each other since we were children. He was concerned for my well-being—like he would be for a sister.”

“If I had a sister, I would die before I forced her to risk her life and reputation to appease me.”

Lily’s mouth slackened. He was right and she knew it.

“Are you finished? My sisters will come looking for us soon.”

“Nearly,” he lied.

“What are you searching for?”

Adam bit back the urge to answer glibly. He reached out his hand, capturing hers, needing the contact between them. When she stiffened, he laid her hand on his sleeve and started to stroll down the rows of books. “We told Lord Ednam that you were a scholar.”

“You did…”

She sounded dubious, perhaps even regretful. Fortunately, Adam had a plan.

“Now, we must prove it.”

She looked up at him incredulously. “But I am no scholar.”

Grinning, he leaned forward and tapped the tip of her nose. “Yet. Come, help me find as many scientific journals that reference Egypt as you can. Napoleon returned from Egypt a few years back, so the ones from 1801 or 1802 should be plentiful.”

From her puzzled expression, she still didn’t have confidence in him, but she would. A tingle of anticipation swept through him. Wooing her good opinion of him might prove the most worthwhile challenge of his life.

With her eyebrows drawn together, she looked the most adorable woman in the world. Not that he would dare venture his opinion.

“How will journals help? Surely you don’t expect me to read them all. I haven’t the time and—”

His smile widened. “Have faith in me, darling. Reading them will help you gain confidence regarding the subject matter, but for the time being all we need are the journals.”

…

They returned home with an armful each. Although Lily didn’t fully understand why they had collected them all, she followed his direction as he led her through the house to the kitchen. There, they barred the door from the prying eyes of her sisters and set to work.

Scientific journals were not the only items purchased today. Oddly enough, Adam had insisted on purchasing a half dozen lemons during their return home. As he set the bag on the table wedged into the corner, he asked for a lemon squeezer.

Frowning, she searched the cupboard until she found it. When she dropped it onto the table in front of Adam, he had already shucked off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and helped himself to a kitchen knife. He deftly sliced a lemon in two.

“Are you craving something sour to drink?”

The unexpected grin he flashed her made her weak in the knees. She’d never been able to resist him when he was brimming with confidence. Half dressed, with his tan forearms on display, she had difficulty recalling that they were not friends. If not for this mad endeavor, they would have no contact with each other at all.

“They’re for the journals.”

His answer, as much as the reminder of their task, sobered her. Then she frowned. “How?”

He winked. “Are you certain you’d like to know?”

His words transported her five years ago, to the night they’d met. He’d been debonair and charming and sinfully mysterious. Even speaking to a man like Adam, particularly when they hadn’t been formally introduced, had felt like a wicked thrill. And the way he’d looked at her…

He still looked at her that way. His eyes dark with promise, his expression hungry. He fooled you then. Don’t let him fool you now. Without realizing it, she’d swayed close enough to touch him. He breathed shallowly, his attention on her mouth. A lock of hair tickled the corner of her eye. Gently, perhaps even reverently, he tucked it behind her ear.

His touch sent tingles along her skin. So much time had passed since he’d touched her. Too long.

In a low, throaty voice, she whispered, “I want to know.”

It was the same answer she’d given him the day they’d met, when he’d introduced her to a spiderweb of intrigue and gray morals. As then, the same pleased smile he gave her warmed her from the inside out.

He is a confidence man. This is what he does.

Despite her certainty, she couldn’t suppress a frisson of delight. She hadn’t felt this alive in years. Not since she’d shouldered the burden of responsibility for her family.

“The lemon juice will dissolve the ink in the journals. We’ll have to apply it carefully, so it doesn’t degrade the paper. Once it dries, we’ll replace the names of select authors with yours. How skilled are you at forgery?”

Lily let out an exasperated breath. “How skilled do you think?”

“Brilliant.”

She frowned. “Then you’re mad. When would I have forged anything?”

The corners of his mouth tipped up, a smile of pure masculine pride. “You can spy a crack in a gemstone without your monocle. The same detail applies to handwriting. If only you tried, I wager you’d be able to emulate it flawlessly.”

His conviction warmed her. When had someone last expressed such confidence in her? Day after day, she battled men who underestimated and outright dismissed her skill, due to her gender. But Adam… Adam had always professed blind faith in her abilities.

Perhaps it was why she’d fallen in love with him.

“I haven’t tried.” Her voice was small, far more vulnerable than she’d felt in years. If she made the attempt and failed…

Adam didn’t even seem to consider such a possibility. “We’ll fetch a piece of paper for practice.”

“And if it looks wrong?”

His expression softened, and he lifted one shoulder. “If you aren’t confident after practicing, I’ll try my hand at it.” His demeanor as much as his lackadaisical tone conveyed his doubt at having to perform the task himself.

He still thought her capable of seizing the world. Afraid to shatter the illusion, she whispered her next question. “What will the forgery solve?”

His smile took on an edge. “Why, we’ll have proof of your scholarly deeds. Then all we’ll need to do is place these journals in Lord Ednam’s library. On Tuesday, when we attend the mummy unveiling, I’ll direct attention to one of the journals. Once they see your name, your persona will be validated.”

“And then?” The words barely left her lips. She was so close to him now that the rise and fall of her chest brushed against his lapels. She should move away. But his warmth was as seductive as his faith in her.

He grinned. “Then the game begins.”