Chapter Ten

Adam’s fingers grazed Lily’s collarbone as he fastened the necklace. A shiver coursed over her skin and down her spine at the touch. He watched its progress, watched her nipples pucker beneath the thin muslin of her dress, and the four years separating them melted away. They were husband and wife again, the passion between them simmering until they could closet themselves away.

Except, this time, he had no lady’s maid to shoo away in order to claim the intimacy of helping Lily dress. She wasn’t the brazen woman who’d once seized the pleasure between them as if it were their last day in this world. This woman was cautious, wary. She had erected a shield of ice between them that his small flirtations of the past few days had left no mark upon.

You could woo her. He had never shied away from a challenge. As he brushed his fingertips along the warm, smooth skin bared by her dress, he savored her reaction. Involuntary, if the sharp edge to her glittering green eyes was any indication.

What future did they have, two people so different from whom they’d been four years ago?

Seated next to her on the white vanity stool, he stared at their reflection. Light glittered from the rushlight positioned on the bedside table and another next to the mirror. The wide, silvery expanse gave the room a surreal, dreamlike quality.

“Why didn’t you sell the mirror? I see you’ve stripped most of the house.”

“This is Mama’s room. She’s lost enough.”

Grimly, Adam recalled the room adjacent, still filled with her father’s belongings. Although Lily pretended cold competence, she was sentimental at heart. It would be far easier to wound her than she let on.

He would never forgive himself if he hurt her again. With the picture they made in the mirror, he could almost shut his eyes and imagine that tonight was for pleasure, not business. Upon returning from their night of revelry, he would unfasten the buttons down the back of her dress. He would loosen her stays, push them and her shift from her shoulders, and kiss every last freckle that adorned her porcelain skin.

For a moment, their eyes locked in the mirror and he was certain she was caught in the fantasy, too. When she brushed her fingers over the citrines at her throat, he imagined she brushed them over his skin. Her tongue traced her bottom lip. Every muscle in his body screamed for him to touch her. Skin to skin, the slow glide and dance of man and wife as he carried her closer and closer to the pinnacle of ecstasy.

He dropped his hand but didn’t look away. She was too much temptation, even dressed in a plain, blue-gray gown as she was. A vision that he’d all but created.

Leaning into the warmth of her body, he reached over her shoulder for the spectacles lying on the vanity. He perched them on her nose, then pulled a few errant locks out of her pristine coiffure. When she looked delightfully disheveled, though not near as debauched as he’d like, he settled his hand on her shoulder. She lifted hers to place it over top.

“How am I to see with the spectacles on?”

“They’re no more useful than glass. You shouldn’t have trouble seeing through them as long as you keep them clean.”

Her cheeks turned pink as she leaned forward, adjusting the spectacles on her nose. “I look ridiculous.”

Never. He caught her hand and pinned it to her waist, pulling her flush against him. He felt the curve of her shoulder against his chest, the rise and fall of her breaths beneath his hand. Her lips parted as she stared at him through the mirror.

“You look divine.”

For once, she didn’t argue. His gaze fixed on her lips, wet from an errant swipe of her tongue.

His voice rough, he asked, “Are you prepared to play your new persona? The spectacles are no more than a representation. You must embody her from the moment you enter Lord Ednam’s townhouse to the moment you leave.”

“I know what’s at stake,” she murmured, looking down at the hands clasped on her lap.

As did he. If possible, he would have taken the burden himself. But they had been invited together, and so they must present themselves. A unified front.

Man and wife.

Despite his reluctance, he forced himself to remove his hand. The longer they spent in each other’s company, the more she accepted his idle touches without protest. The more idle touches he bestowed, the more he burned for her. He was torturing himself, powerless to stop it. Every moment he had with her was time stolen.

He rearranged her earring, admiring the curve of her neck. “Tonight, you are to establish your persona. You aren’t yourself tonight. You are Mrs. Darling.”

Her breath hitched. “But I am Mrs. Darling.”

She spoke so quietly he might have misheard.

The sentiment roused every buried desire he’d had these past four years. He’d been prepared to relinquish the life he’d had, his vendetta against the rich who mistreated those who relied on them. All he’d wanted was a simple life—and her—Mrs. Darling.

But tonight, it was no more than a name. A persona. Don’t fool yourself into believing it could be more.

He swallowed hard. “Tonight, you are Mrs. Darling the scholar. Introduce yourself, but don’t press your company on those who seem reluctant. At some point during the evening, we’ll reference one of the articles. Lord Ednam will check his library and once he does, he’ll find your name as the author. This will lend to your credibility. If you can, offer your assessment on a jewel tonight. You have your tools?”

Hesitantly, she nodded. “I have a small traveling case. I’ll bring it with me. It doesn’t contain much, monocle and a few other trinkets, but if I need to check the clarity of a gemstone it will help.”

“That will be our goal, to find an Egyptian artifact with a jewel to show you at your most confident. Does that sound simple enough?”

Her eyes widened in the mirror, almost fearful. When she twisted in the seat to look at him, her breath tickled his chin. His body hummed with anticipation. If he tilted his head down, he could kiss her. Thread his fingers through her thick hair and urge her against him, devouring her mouth until she forgot that their last four years apart had ever happened. It would be altogether too easy to lose himself in her warm, willing body…

But she wasn’t warm or willing. She abhorred him. Their time together now, with only a slender door between them at night, threatened to be his undoing.

He swallowed hard but didn’t move away. He wouldn’t kiss her, but if she did him…

“What if I fumble? One misstep tonight can lose it all.”

“You haven’t yet been introduced to the target. If you misstep tonight, it will not be fatal. I can’t say how well Chatterley will take it, but we’ll try again with a different social circle.”

When Lily ran her tongue over her lower lip, uncertain, he bit back a groan. She must aim to torture him for the hardship he’d invited upon her. Because it was agony, sitting so close and yet unable to taste her. She took a deep breath and her breasts expanded to brush against his lapel.

If I don’t kiss her, I will go mad.

“The scholars specializing in Ancient Egypt must know each other. We may not have a second group to which to endear ourselves, if tonight ends in disaster.”

With a finger beneath her chin, he tipped her face up. She didn’t pull away, but neither did she shut her eyes and lean into him. Once, she had sought out every private moment to steal a kiss and stoke their passion for one another. Their lives had changed drastically.

He ached for the young, loving couple they’d been. He dropped his hand.

“You have skill. You have determination. We’ve done our research. If in doubt, say as little as possible. Contribute only when you’re certain you know the facts. You can do this, Lily. I know you can.”

She held his gaze and her breath for a moment more. The air was charged, almost sparkling with the shocks that eddied between them. Then, she pulled away. One of them had to.

She patted herself down, straightening her pendant before she stood, the spectacles still perched on her nose. She shook out her skirts and turned to face him with a saucy smile. “Well then, Mr. Darling. I believe we’re due to depart.”

His heart thudded painfully fast in the base of his throat. He unfolded his frame slowly, reluctant to leave this room. In here, they were ensconced in a different world. One in which her sisters didn’t plot his murder. A world in which they weren’t about to steal an artifact that was best left alone. This room held none of the taint of reality.

But they had to leave.

He offered his arm to her. She snaked her hand onto it, adjusting her spectacles with the other hand. She might think she looked ridiculous, but to him she looked irresistible. He led her from the room, bent on leading her to a place where she would inevitably charm and impress every man within earshot.

The moment they stepped into the corridor, he was pinned with her sister’s displeasure. Willa stood in the doorway opposite, spitting mad at being left behind. He’d already firmly declined taking her along— She would reveal their game. As he passed, she turned up her nose, spun on her heel, and slammed the door.

As they passed Sophie on the landing, although far more staid, he was met with the same censure. She glared at him before turning to Lily. “I’m not as boisterous as Willa, you know. If you needed one more for company…”

Lily shook her head once, curt. She whispered to her sister, “I told you, it’s a closed event. I was lucky to garner an invitation for myself.”

Her disbelief plain, Sophie nodded and stepped aside for them to pass. As they did, she whispered, “You have a visitor waiting in the sitting room.”

Lily frowned. Adam urged her on. He would have encouraged her out the door to hail a hackney cab, but she balked.

“I must see who it is. This will only take a moment.”

He wanted to protest—they would be late—but he gritted his teeth. “I’ll fetch your shawl.”

The closet held numerous shawls, some belonging to the other women of the house. Since Adam couldn’t tell the difference, he chose a blue to complement Lily’s dress. He shut the door as Lily’s clipped footsteps stopped abruptly.

“Reid?”

He nearly dropped the shawl. Balling it in his fist, he loped toward his wife and the man who was decidedly not supposed to be here.

“Why are you here?”

Adam stiffened as his nemesis answered, “I’m here to escort you to the mummy unveiling, of course.”

…

Don’t look behind you.

Lily swallowed hard, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. Adam’s intent stare lifted the hairs on the back of her neck.

In the drawing room, standing in front of the armchair he had occupied until Lily’s approach, Reid’s gaze was every bit as intense. When she’d paused in the doorway, she’d found him lounging in her chair with his legs crossed at the ankle. He’d looked for all the world like he was at home.

Wasn’t he? He had bought their debts, debts that would grant him the house should he call them in. Lily wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt. The edge of the spectacles caught her gaze again, and she snatched them from her nose. She held the wire frames in her hand as she met Reid’s avid stare.

Belatedly, his words sank into her bones. “You mean to accompany me? It’s a private event. Did you—”

He took a step closer, his long legs devouring the distance between them. If not for Adam behind her, she would have retreated. Trepidation crawled down her spine. If the two men met face to face… Neither had made any secret of their low opinion of the other. Her precarious situation might turn volatile.

She planted herself in the doorway, intent on remaining a barrier between them.

“I will accompany you tonight to make certain this goes as planned.” Reid’s expression was ominous.

Lily swallowed thickly. “It is a private event. I was invited with my husband as a pair.”

He raised his eyebrows, supercilious. “Then introduce me as your husband.”

The word crawled down Lily’s spine like a spider. I have a husband.

She liked Adam no better. In fact, if she were to choose one man over another, wouldn’t Reid be preferable? She could have trusted the man she’d grown up alongside. This cold man… She didn’t know. He would turn her to ice the same way Adam seemed to be able to melt her with a touch.

The change in Adam confounded her as well. When they’d met, he never would have agreed to help her without asking for something in exchange. Everything in this world comes at a price—his words. Yet he had asked for nothing, save perhaps her forgiveness. Atoning for his sins of the past. Unless he meant to fool her into lowering her guard all over again… Renewed tingles swept over her skin at the memory of his touch, the burn that had swept through her at his nearness no matter how she tried to resist him. But if this was another of his tricks, what did he hope to gain? She had nothing more to give.

Caught between these two men, she almost wished she had never met either.

“Lord and Lady Ednam have met Adam. In fact, he was pivotal in receiving the invitation.”

Reid took another step toward her. “Then tell them I’m your cousin. Anything you must in order to gain me entrance tonight. I am your escort.”

“They’ll expect Adam…”

He laid a finger over her lips. The leather of his gloves was cold against her mouth. It stirred no warmth in her. Despite the danger, she took a small step back. When she glanced down the corridor toward the entrance, she found it empty.

Had Adam heard and left? Lily swallowed against a stab of disappointment. It was better this way. Easier.

Then why did she feel as if he’d abandoned her again?

“You’ll make his excuses.”

She’d already penned their acceptance. However, the steely look in Reid’s eyes brooked no argument. Should she, could she continue without Adam? He was the confidence man, not her. He knew how to manipulate the conversation to his benefit— He knew how to lie. If it looked as though she would fail, they’d planned for him to be there to save her.

Lily’s heartbeat stabbed in her throat. She swallowed hard, but when she looked up into Reid’s face, her argument deflated.

“Are you worried I won’t do as you asked?” She kept her voice low, in case her sisters lingered around the nearest corner. She hadn’t told them of Reid’s ultimatum—would never tell them—and she didn’t want them to piece it together on their own.

For a moment, she thought her old friend would confess that he had no faith in her at all. A man who didn’t respect her would not carry through with his end of the bargain. These past years of single-handedly operating the jewelry shop had taught her that painful lesson.

However, Reid’s face softened. He glanced again down the empty corridor before locking eyes with her. His fingers drifted up to one of the wisps of hair Adam had pulled from her coiffure. “It isn’t you I don’t trust. It’s him. Who’s to say he won’t sabotage you at the soonest opportunity—just to spite us?”

The steel in Reid’s voice clashed against her. Her stomach turned inside out. Was that Adam’s game? She was so out of her element that she hadn’t considered his undermining the task.

Had he, already? He couldn’t have. She had been with him every step of the way. Watching the house, altering the essays, but… Not when he placed them in the library. She had only his word and that peculiar scent he hadn’t explained. Without those journals, she would be publicly discredited tonight.

She gritted her teeth. Adam had left her, not the other way around. He had no reason to blame her or act vindictive.

Then again, neither did Reid. She had never crossed him, even if Adam had.

“Very well. But we mustn’t tarry.”

“I drove my phaeton here tonight. Shall we?”

Reid offered his arm with a gallant gesture. As Lily slid her hands onto his sleeve, her gaze traveled up the stairs. At the landing, where intricate curves of wood intertwined like lace to form the railing, she caught movement. Her sister?

No. As she strode for the entrance, she caught a glimpse of Adam. His expression was forbidding. He shook his head.

I have no choice. Lily pressed her lips together and turned away, pausing only to snatch one of her sister’s shawls before exiting the house on Reid’s arm.

As the door to Lord Ednam’s house swung inward, Lily adjusted the spectacles on her nose and kept her face turned down. She felt the footman George’s gaze like a brand. The moment stretched into an eternity as she held her breath.

At last, he stepped aside for them to enter. “May I take your shawl?”

She nodded, slipping it from her shoulders and holding it out with trembling fingers. Did he recognize her? Only days past, he had carried her through this house to the kitchen.

As he leaned forward to take the garment, he whispered, “I see you’re much improved.”

Lily’s mouth dried. She nodded, not raising her gaze. When in doubt, act demure. Adam’s instructions. She didn’t know if she was meant to act that way with the servants as well as the hosts.

“A few days of rest helped immensely, as I said it would.” She offered a shy smile, hoping he would say nothing more.

He did not. After whisking her shawl across his forearm, he shut the door behind them and bid them to follow him down the corridor. Lily leaned heavily on Reid’s arm, remembering to limp. Had it been her right leg or her left leg that she had injured in her fictional accident? She maintained the limp, slight enough to avoid the suspicion of the other guests—or so she hoped.

They immediately departed from the route she’d been acquainted with upon visiting the house. The footman led them into a grand receiving room by way of an artfully decorated corridor that proudly announced the residents’ fondness for antiquities. Not only Egyptian but Greek, Roman, and Chinese. Delicate little works of art and old artifacts decorated small niches in the paneled wood that must have been specially designed to accommodate them. When they reached the receiving room, the footman turned. “Who am I to announce?”

“Mrs. Lily Darling and escort.”

Reid clenched his jaw so tightly that a muscle twitched in his cheek. He spared a withering glare for her before he added in a clipped tone, “Mr. Reid Chatterley.”

The footman rapped sharply at the door, waiting for the chatter to quiet before he announced their names.

As the eddies of whispers subsided, Reid leaned closer. He wore a sharp cologne, one she didn’t recognize. As if he, too, donned a persona for the evening, this one foreign to her. She felt utterly out to sea.

“You forget, I am a scholar in my own right.”

Lily opened her mouth, then shut it again. How had she forgotten that? He could have gained her entrance into tonight’s soirée without Adam.

She swallowed thickly and whispered, “Forgive me.”

As he faced forward and led her into the room, the very last emotion to cross his expression was forgiveness.

The room was bedecked in Egyptian glory. Instead of showing an idyllic French scene, the panoramic wallpaper had been painted to resemble the walls of an Egyptian tomb. Pharaohs and bestial gods directed servants and slaves in acts of wonder. Painted figures hauled blocks twice their height toward half-formed pyramids. Nearby, the sphinx loomed over the procession. The walls in this room were works of art unto themselves, but Lord and Lady Ednam had not stopped there. What looked like eons-old statues and delicate clay bowls were placed on tabletops and wide units of shelving. Some of the features of these works had been robbed by time and the touch of too many fingers until the edges were smooth. What was left hinted at the same forms as those depicted on the walls.

Stepping into the room felt akin to stepping into the past. Save, of course, for the other guests gathered, all in practical, muted garments like the dress she wore. They carried notebooks and inkwells with pens at the ready. The small case she carried went entirely unnoticed. In the center of the room, a low, long wooden table formed a dais for the sarcophagus atop it. Like those of the statues, the details of the lid had been lost to time. In places, the dull, peeled paint lingered—like the eyes staring up out of the face. Glittering gems formed the remnants of the headdress, some pried from their sockets to leave gaping holes.

Beneath that faded, gaudy lid was an ancient, preserved corpse. And the gathering today planned to undress it. Lily suppressed a shudder. For now, the sarcophagus remained shut. The dozen other people clustered around the room in groups of two or three. Between them, smartly dressed footmen dashed with trays of amuse-bouches in the French style. A blatant display of wealth, as Lily had learned since taking up the managing of the household. Male servants, those able-bodied and able to fight in the war, were taxed heavily.

Tentatively, she entered the room. The hosts caught her attention first, Lady Ednam’s expression pinching as she took in Chatterley’s presence in place of Adam’s. Next to her, Reid stiffened.

I thought you were a scholar.

Clearly, he had done something to earn the enmity of the hosts. Presumably, his target, Lord Granby, was among the guests tonight.

Despite Lady Ednam’s clear displeasure, Lily directed Reid to the hosts, who stood closest to the door with another guest. As they approached, the thin, plain-looking man bowed his head and excused himself to go speak with the other guests.

Lily dipped in the shallowest of curtsies, a sign of respect among equals. “Thank you for inviting me here today. I am eager to see the mummy unveiled.”

Lady Ednam narrowed her eyes. “Did you not bring your husband?” As at Lady Breeding’s soiree, she was the most gaudily dressed in the room, a peacock among hens.

“I’m afraid business called him away. I did not want to leave you with an uneven number of men. I hope you don’t mind that I asked my friend, Mr. Chatterley, to join us? He is an esteemed scholar, like myself.”

Reid glanced sideways at her, but his expression was unreadable. Surely he didn’t think she’d been invited here without pretense!

He inclined his head at Lady Ednam’s murmur of interest. “My companion is greatly accomplished.”

With a twist of the mouth, Lady Ednam muttered, “So I’ve heard.” She did not sound as though she had believed the gossip. “I do not recognize the name. My Ednam searched for it since our last meeting. Perhaps he missed the scientific journal with your contributions?”

Lily smiled. The issues of the periodicals danced in front of her mind’s eye. “I contributed to the July and August issues of The Universal Magazine of Knowledge and Pleasure last year. Or perhaps you’ve seen me in last month’s issue of the Antiquities Review.”

Next to her, her husband hummed under his breath. “I may have one of those in the study. Perhaps, after everyone is settled, I’ll send a man to take a look.”

Lily inclined her head. “I used my initial for the journal, not my full name. Perhaps that’s why you don’t recognize it. You’ll find me under L. Darling.”

Again, Reid frowned at her. Don’t betray me. Dismissing her out of hand, he added his credentials, a far longer list than the one Lily had provided.

Nodding, Lord Ednam pushed his spectacles higher on his nose. “Ah, yes. You’re that Chatterley. I believe you were doing some work with the royal succession in Memphis in the Seventh Dynasty?”

“I focus on discovering remnants of the reigns of Merenhor and onward, if that is what you mean by Seventh.”

“Ah, the Eighth.”

“If you subscribe to the drivel that the Seventh existed at all.” Reid’s smile was brittle. Four years ago, he would have brightened at the prospect of speaking with someone who loved antiquities as he did. He used to trip over his tongue, reciting the latest thing he’d read in a scientific journal. Tonight, he looked as fascinated by the subject as if the hosts had decided to pull out his fingernails.

“Ah, you’re one of those.” Lord Ednam didn’t sound impressed.

Lily didn’t know the first thing about their debate.

“The Seventh Dynasty is no more than a metaphor for the chaos of a changing regime.” Reid sounded as though he recited the information by rote. He had no passion for the subject.

Desperate to change the topic, Lily turned to the hostess. “The room is breathtaking, Lady Ednam. I don’t believe I’ve seen anything like it. Did you redo it to complement the mummy unveiling?”

The cost of such a venture nearly made Lily choke.

Lady Ednam laughed, waving her hand through the air in dismissal. “We host far too many such intellectual evenings to redecorate every time. This mummy is one of many we’ve purchased. We donate the others to the museum, you see, once we’re through with them.”

Warming to the subject, her very forgettable husband nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes. We don’t know very much about him yet, but when we begin—as we will shortly—we will open the sarcophagus and examine the contents in an effort to hypothesize about his life. I trust you brought a notebook in that case of yours?”

Lily hadn’t realized it was expected. She smiled, but it felt brittle. “Only my tools, I’m afraid, but I have a very good memory. Would you be willing to introduce me to some of your other guests? I don’t believe I recognize many here.”

“Of course,” Lady Ednam exclaimed. “You’re the last guests to arrive, so I won’t be needed near the door any longer.” The reprimand cut the air, loud enough for the room to hear.

Lily straightened her spine, refusing to show weakness. She followed, acting congenial but shy as the hostess introduced her around the room. Reid remained locked in his debate near the door.

At last, Lady Ednam introduced her to the Lord Granby, a baron nearing fifty with thick whiskers framing either side of his square face. He bore all the marks of a nobleman—the self-important bearing, the indolence, the marks of money without the stain of work or responsibility.

“And this is Mrs. Darling. She claims to be a great scholar.”

The dismissal in the hostess’s voice called a flush of heat to Lily’s cheeks. She didn’t have the complexion to hide it. Modest. Demure. She ducked her face, the stray strands Adam had removed from her coiffure tickling the edge of her jaw. “I don’t know if I’d be so bold as to name myself great.”

Lord Granby exchanged a glance with Lady Ednam, clearly unimpressed.

Lily stumbled over her tongue. “I mean to say, I have made my share of contributions. In…” The name of the journals escaped her. Her thick tongue clung to the roof of her mouth and her heart hammered in her throat as she fought the widening holes in her memory. The longer she struggled for the words, the more she felt her prospects crumple. Lady Ednam appeared almost triumphant.

Will I let my family name be the object of ridicule yet again?

Will I fail my family and see them tossed on their ear?

Lily searched the room for an ally. If Adam were here, he would have already come to her aid. Reid couldn’t behoove himself to notice she’d left his side. What journals had she named mere moments ago? Think, Lily!

Her gaze landed on one of the blue-clad footmen. This one, tall and fit, angled his tray in front of his face, higher than most guests could easily reach. As he turned to service another guest, the candlelight illuminated his profile.

Lily’s heart skipped a beat. Adam was dressed as one of the servants.