Chapter 3

 

Lillian

 

“You’re sure,” Alice whispered. “You’re sure he won’t listen to reason?”

It wasn’t the first time she had asked the question. Alice wasn’t normally an optimist but something about my feelings for William made her so. I sighed, trying to take delight in the mysteries of the museum around us, and not dwell on the memories of the other night. The way he’d swooped in to save me, the warmth of his body as he’d carried me…the look of pure hatred in his eyes when he’d warned me to stay away from him.

I felt raw, exposed, bruised. “Yes, I’m sure.”

The museum was lacking in visitors, perhaps because of the early morning hour. Most people arrived to be seen, not to actually experience the exhibits. And early morning wasn’t the best time to be seen. Most members of the ton were still languishing abed.

“Oh, Lilly,” Ali slid her arm through mine. “You look so pale. Have you been sleeping? Eating?”

I pulled away from her and limped toward an exhibit from ancient Egypt, my ankle still smarting. She was too astute, if she looked into my eyes she would know the truth. Of course I hadn’t been sleeping or eating. How could I when thoughts of William kept me worried and pacing. I’d sent him a letter; he’d sent it back unopened. Fair play, I supposed, considering my parents had sent back his letters those many years ago.

“Yes, of course I’m eating and sleeping. Oh look here, it says that Neferitti—”

“Dear, maybe it’s time to visit your parents in New York?” Ali paused next to me. “A nice extended trip. Then when you return you can look for that country house you’re always talking about.”

I smiled and nodded. If I returned. It was the unspoken question. Perhaps she was right. Instinctively I sought out Ben and Caro. They were giggling as they stared wide-eyed up at a Roman statue of a man in all of his naked glory. Did I want to return to New York? I should have. Those first two years of marriage I’d craved New York so badly, I’d cry myself to sleep at night. But now…now I had new dreams. A new life.

When I thought about how much comfort we’d shared that short two weeks in the countryside with William…I could think of nothing more. I trailed my hand over a marble railing. With or without William, we belonged on the moors, in open space where we could run…be free from judgement.

Thanks to Charles, we already owned a country estate. However, I didn’t dare return to the beautiful English home where I’d first met William. If I could, I’d sell the blasted property, even better, burn it to the ground. But someday Ben would inherit the place. Instead, I would find a new cottage for us to purchase. Something smaller, manageable, where we could escape London and its stifling heat and crowds.

“Mother,” Ben called out, his voice echoing against the walls and drawing the irritated glances of the few up early enough to visit the museum. Those who were serious about the exhibits. “Can we see the lions from Africa?”

“Of course. Lead the way.”

“They kill them and rip off their skin, you know,” Ben whispered to Caro. “Then stuff them with material and saw dust.”

Her large, blue eyes filled with shimmering tears. “They do?”

She was such a sweet, caring girl. Charles had taken delight in tormenting her with scary stories and warnings of ghost and ghouls. My gloved hands curled. Even now I couldn’t think about the man without hatred filling my soul. How I wanted to be free of it all…the anger, the bitterness, the longing for more.

“Yes, they do, promise,” Ben said.

“Ben,” I warned.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

Would they like New York? They were so used to living in London. Had friends in England. We entered the next hall, the children huddled close together as they talked excitedly about the exhibits. I knew most of society thought I should send Ben away to be trained at school. But I couldn’t separate them, not after everything they had gone through. They might argue and tease at times, but they were twins, and they needed each other.

“I’ll miss you though,” Alice said, smoothing down her pretty white skirts with the tiny pink roses. The dress made her look like a young debutante instead of the widow she was. I swore at times she disguised herself with her gown. Playing the innocent to confuse and disorient people one day, the next wearing something as scandalous as a practiced flirt. “If you return to New York.”

“I’ll miss you as well.”

She went silent, looking morose and thoughtful. Alice was my best friend, but at times I swore I didn’t truly know her. It was as if she held something back, unable to trust me completely. It hurt more than I wanted to admit.

I swung my reticule as we walked. “Ali, are you ever going to tell me what happened between you and Oliver?”

She sent me a wry glance. “Is it that obvious?”

I shrugged, resisting the urge to grin. “Obvious that something happened.”

She sighed, pausing near the lions. Two big, beastly animals posed on rocks, frozen in time. “We were neighbors. When I was a child he befriended me. I fell in love with him. He didn’t feel the same way.”

So coldly spoken, yet I saw the flash of emotion in her eyes, gone so quickly that for a moment I thought I’d imagined the pain. We’d never talked much about her former marriage, or her love life at all. “And so you married?”

She laughed wickedly, trying to soften the situation, no doubt. “I decided I would marry someone I wouldn’t love. Someone who wouldn’t have a mistress on the side, who couldn’t hurt me. I found the oldest man I could. Lord Brennon. God bless him. He didn’t care about having an heir, he was merely lonely.” She shrugged. “His homes and title went to a cousin, but he left me quite a bit of money. He was a kind man and I don’t regret marrying him.”

So then, Oliver had broken her heart. It seemed to be a reoccurring theme in their family. I’d heard the eldest brother had married. Could it possibly be a love match? “Have you ever thought about remarrying?”

We started walking once more, following after Ben and Caro who were headed toward the mummies. “Lord no, and give my power over to a man?”

I couldn’t blame her for that. After everything that had happened to me while married to Charles, I hadn’t the least desire to remarry either. I’d had no say, no power, no life and no one cared. At least now I was in charge of my own days. My own money.

“Look, Mother,” Caro whispered suddenly, the excitement in her voice drawing my attention to her. Ben was hovering over an exhibit on beetles. No doubt they’d found something repulsive that they knew would make me grimace.

I smiled. “What is it?”

“It’s the man we met in the country!”

My stomach dropped as my eyes lifted to find Rafe and William on the other side of the room. William had yet to notice us, but Rafe’s frown indicated he was only too aware. My heart leapt into my throat.

“Oh hell,” Ali muttered.

“He’ll know,” I whispered frantically. “He’ll know I was Mrs. Watson.”

Ali rested her hand on my forearm, offering comfort. “But he never saw you.”

I gripped Ali’s hand hard. “He talked with the children, he knows their names. If Caro or Ben say anything suspicious…he’s not stupid.”

Ali paled. “It’s my fault.”

“No, it’s my fault.” Yet, even now I couldn’t regret what I’d done. Would do it all again. Swallowing hard, I stared at his back. His dark brown coat stretched across his broad shoulders, his trousers taut over his muscled thighs. The few women in the gallery turned automatically toward them, as if they sensed prey.

He was so handsome it made my chest ache. How I wished I’d worn my new green gown that matched my eyes, instead of the plain brown. I wanted to touch him, to smooth back that lock of hair that had fallen over his ear. To press a kiss to that scar across his face. I wanted to comfort him, love him. Dear God, I still loved him. What was wrong with me?

Ali rested her fingertips to her temples. “No, you don’t understand. I heard Rafe at the ball saying they were coming here this morn to talk about donating money to the museum. I thought if William could only see you…the children…”

“Oh Alice!” I whispered, furious.

She flushed. “It was before I realized he would never let go of the past!” Ben was still too far away to catch hold of, but Ali snatched Caro’s hand. “Don’t worry.”

She dragged a confused Caro toward the next room, much to my relief. However, Ben was still near the beetles and across from him, walked William and Rafe. I took a step forward, intending to grab Ben and run, that was when my luck ran out.

William turned to face me. Our eyes met, clashed, held. The entire world disappeared. I didn’t miss the way his features hardened, nor did I forget his dire message spoken only days ago.

“I warn you…do not challenge me.”

Ben, realizing his sister had disappeared, started toward me at the same time that Rafe and William did. My hands grew damp, my face felt afire. If he recognized Ben…

It had been a year. Surely he’d forgotten the sound of Ben’s voice. So why did I want to shove my son behind my skirts, to grab him and flee? Frantic, I searched for Alice, but she’d managed to sweep Caro away into the next room, hidden behind a large, stuffed elephant. I could only pray Alice managed to keep Caro in the next gallery. That Rafe would keep his mouth shut.

Ben, sensing my unease before I could mask it, turned to follow my line of vision. He caught sight of William immediately. There was a look of surprise and delight that washed over his face. He recognized the man even without his bindings.

“His injury is healed,” Ben exclaimed before I could stop him.

Heat shot to my cheeks. I squeezed Ben’s shoulder, making him jump, startled. Perhaps they hadn’t heard him. The few other people in the gallery had disappeared, leaving us alone.

“Darling,” I warned. “You know better than to speak without being spoken to.”

“Sorry, Mother,” Ben whispered.

That didn’t stop him from staring at William with all the desire to say more as the two brothers stopped before me. When he met Ben’s gaze my son smiled like they were two friends becoming reacquainted. William’s brows drew together, curiosity or perhaps suspicion, in his beautiful blue eyes. Eyes that matched my children’s.

“Good day,” I murmured with a nod.

Rafe inclined his head. William’s gaze met mine and held. He offered no greeting, not that I expected any. No hatred. No bitterness. Certainly no compassion. Nothing. I had the sudden urge to slap him across his handsome face just to get a reaction.

“Are you enjoying the exhibits?” I asked, keeping my attention pinned to William.

“We’re here to discuss business,” Rafe explained. “Not to enjoy exhibits.”

“I’ve seen this all before on my travels,” William said, his voice gruff and cold. “There is nothing here to interest or tempt me.”

His words cut like a dagger. William didn’t bother to say goodbye, merely spun on his heel and strolled away. My heart sank. How, after everything that had happened, did he still hold the power to hurt me?

I gently pushed my son. “Ben, go find Alice in the next gallery, will you?”

“Yes, Mother.” He glanced warily at Rafe as he left. He was nervous, untrusting. He’d been forced to grow up much too quickly. He’d expected a friendly greeting from William, not the cold reception we’d been given.

“Why?” Rafe snapped. “Why can’t you leave him alone?”

“You think I meant to see you here?” My hands curled, my irritation flared. Another couple entered the gallery but I didn’t care if they overheard. “You believe I spend my days thinking of ways to meet up with William? I send spies to watch your home, follow his every move?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.” He truly thought so little of me and there was nothing I could do to change his mind. “He’s in London looking for your Mrs. Watson.”

“Still?” I stiffened. My mind spun. He hadn’t given up on me. No, he hadn’t given up on Mrs. Watson. He chased a dream. A myth. “I knew he’d gone to Lady Brennon’s home and asked about Mrs. Watson, but…”

“Yes, my brother is rather tenacious. He won’t give up.” He stepped closer and lowered his voice as the visiting couple traveled toward us. “If he finds out that you were Mrs. Watson, that you duped him, humiliated him, the man will destroy you. I have no doubt. Be warned, my lady.”

My anger flared. I was damn tired of men making threats. “What would you have me do?”

“Leave. Leave and don’t come back.”

He spun around on his heel and walked away, following the path his brother had taken. Alice thought I should return to New York. Rafe was desperate to get me away from his brother. Even William didn’t want me here.

Perhaps, just perhaps, it was time to listen to reason.

 

****

 

William

 

“Always say there’s nothing that getting foxed can’t fix,” Rafe slurred as he slouched in the corner of the coach. His jacket had been lost long ago and his cravat hung loosely around his neck. “Damn fine pub.”

“Which one?” I asked, wishing I was drunker than I felt. Whiskey hadn’t numbed the pain. Drinking hadn’t made me forget Lilly. Damnation, I was supposed to be trying to find Mrs. Watson. I rubbed my hands over my weary face. Weeks here and nothing. A year and no word. It was as if the woman had vanished. Perhaps she didn’t want to be found. Maybe my affection for her was one-sided.

“All four pubs.” Rafe grinned as his eyes closed. “Lovely pubs.”

For two days I’d been attempting to drink myself into oblivion, with Rafe only all too eager to assist. Tried to forget Lillian. Tried to focus on Mrs. Watson. Nothing had helped and I was left to feel more restless than I’d felt in years.

“Been lovely having you back, Will. Just lovely,” Rafe muttered, slumping even farther into the seat. I’d missed my brothers. They drove me utterly mad at times, but they were always there when I needed them. Rafe thought I needed him now. I had a feeling he needed me even more.

I sighed, and stared out the window as Rafe snored softly in the corner. When I’d escaped into the military I’d wanted nothing to do with society, with my past, with my brothers. I’d abandoned my very family to run away from the torment of London and Lillian. I’d given up all that was important because of a woman. Now I was doing the same in order to find Mrs. Watson.

Morose, I stared out the window onto the dark streets of the city. Not much had changed since I’d left. The town was still divided: poor and wealthy. Those who worked and struggled, those who didn’t.

We turned onto an opulent street and a tingling of awareness whispered down my spine. Instinctively, I sat up straighter. We were near Charlie’s townhome. Lillian’s now. My heart hammered madly, threatening to break free.

Without thought, I lifted my fist and tapped on the roof.

The carriage slowed. I didn’t question my sudden desire to stop. Didn’t even try to rationalize my intentions. I merely shoved open the door before the footman had a chance, and stepped out into the cool night air. “I’ll be back soon, Tommy.”

The footman nodded, jumping from the back of the coach and standing guard. “Yes, Sir William.”

Leaving Rafe asleep in the carriage, I moved my way up to the front stoop, anger propelling me forward. Hell, maybe I had drunk more than I’d remembered. I knew I wasn’t being rational, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

I lifted my fist and pounded on the door.

No response.

“Blasted butler.”

Annoyed, I pounded again. Harder this time. A couple homes over a dog started to bark. A curtain fluttered at the same house. Tongues would wag, Lilly’s reputation would be tarnished even further. Good.

Oh, I’d heard the rumors that she had murdered Charles. The ton didn’t trust her in the least, for his sudden disappearance was suspicious. She’d become fodder for gossip. I didn’t care. I didn’t care because almost ten years ago when I’d stood on this very street, demanding to see her, she’d let me rot. She’d let me make a fool of myself.

I raised my fist, intending to knock again, when the tap of footsteps echoed through the house. The door tore open. Lillian stood there in her night wrap, her gaze wide with worry. The moment she recognized me, those beautiful green eyes grew clouded.

“Where the hell is your butler?” I demanded.

“I fired him,” she replied, starting to shut the door. “Go home, William.”

Not so easily dissuaded, I slammed my palm against the door. “About bloody time he was fired.” I shoved past her and strolled into the foyer as if I owned the place. “Never seen such impertinent staff.”

She sighed, closing the door. “Are you drunk?”

“Hopefully.” Lord, she was lovely with her lush hair falling in silken waves down her back. Disturbed with my wayward thoughts, I moved into the parlor and headed straight toward the sideboard where I knew Charlie kept his drink. A fire burned brightly. I didn’t miss the open book and cup of tea on the table next to the settee. “Is he my child?”

She didn’t respond, but the entire room went silent, still. The very air seemed to have disappeared. My hand shook as I poured a sherry, the only thing available. She hadn’t answered the question. A small part of me wasn’t sure I wanted her to.

Gripping my drink, I turned to face her. She stood in the middle of the room, her face pale, her hands clenched in front of her. Her eyes told me everything I needed to know, yet I still wanted to hear the words. Needed to hear them.

“Is the boy mine?”

She tilted her chin high, glaring at me. “Yes.”

Everything within me froze. I’d known, hadn’t I? Yet to hear the truth from her lips was startling, shocking. I had a son. A son. How could she? How could she marry Charles? How could she let my cousin raise my boy? Anger swelled through me, cutting off the pain.

I dropped my glass, heedless to the sherry splashing across my boots and trousers, and stalked toward her. “Did you think it amusing to dupe me all these years?”

Her lower lip quivered. “If you think that, then you do not know me at all.”

I could see the fear in her emerald gaze. A fear that fed the beast within me. How I wanted her to feel the pain I felt. “I never claimed to know you, my dear.”

“William, I’m sorry.” She stumbled back, losing all sense of control. That arrogant tilt of her chin was gone. I wanted to see her afraid. I wanted to see her nervous and trembling. I wanted her to suffer as I had, and still did. “Please, let me—”

Her back hit the wall. She’d trapped herself. Her eyes went wide with surprise and worry. With an angry growl, I slammed my open palms against the wall, on either side of her head. She jumped. It wasn’t enough. I wanted her trembling, falling to her knees and begging for forgiveness. “How could you?”

Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I didn’t know when I married him!”

How dare she cry. She didn’t deserve to cry. Disgusted by her act of emotion, I sneered. “How do you even know he’s mine? He could be—”

“Because Charles didn’t come to my bed for months after we married!” She glared up at me, her anger returning. “He wanted to know who his first child would belong to.”

The words crashed down around me, haunting and complex. It was true. The boy was mine. “He knew? He knew the child wasn’t his?”

She nodded.

My hands curled against the wall. If Charlie knew the boy wasn’t his, I had no doubt he’d made my son’s life a living hell. What had he endured? Slowly, she tilted her head back and met my gaze. All the pain, all the heartache…her fault.

I stepped closer, pressing my hard body into her lush form. I meant to punish her. Yet, desire stirred low in my gut. My gaze dropped to her mouth. Hell, I didn’t know what I felt anymore. Those lush lips parted in surprise, her eyes flashing with worry. “William…please…”

With a growl, I crushed my lips to hers. It was a hard, brutal kiss. The moment our lips touched all sense of control vanished. Our teeth clashed, our tongues dueled. I cupped the sides of her face, holding her immobile. How I hated her. Hated her nearly as much as I desired her.

She sighed, sinking into me. Hell, she wasn’t afraid. She wanted me as much as I wanted her. Everything felt so damn right, as if…as if she was made for me. Only me. Even though I knew it wasn’t true, even though I knew she would stab me in the back for a pence, I couldn’t pull away. Couldn’t stop myself from sliding my fingers into her silky hair, from tugging hard enough that she tilted her head back and I could deepen the kiss.

She moaned against my lips. An erotic sound that sent blood surging straight to my cock. Desperate, I shoved my knee between her thighs and pressed my hips against hers, holding the woman captive. It was completely insane, utterly mad. Her heart pounded against my chest, urging me on…on.

I didn’t break the kiss as I ran my hands up and down her lush body, trying to touch everywhere at once. She did not shove me away, but whimpered, her delicate fingers digging into my shirt and clinging tightly. She was hot, so damn soft I wanted to sink into her warmth. To forget.

She was not the timid virgin I remembered. No, she had grown bold with age. Her tongue wrapped around mine, sending sparks of desire through my veins. She tasted of tea and mint, and all things good. My hands dropped to her waist, my fingers tightening around the folds of her skirts.

I would take her in the parlor where any servant might enter, against the wall…it didn’t matter much. All I knew was that I had to be inside of her. I’d meant to make her tremble with fear, yet I was the one shaking with desire.

“Let go of my mother!”

Gasping, we broke apart.

My hands remained on her hips, even as she pulled away. Desire and drink had muddled my mind and it took a moment for me to realize that her son was standing in the doorway wearing a long, white nightshirt, and carrying a sword in his hands. Hell, he was going to hurt himself. No, not just her son. My son.

Lillian was quicker to recover and skirted around me. “Darling, wherever did you get that?”

His thin arms were trembling under the weight of the weapon, but he didn’t relent. “The gallery. It hangs on the wall.”

She raced to the boy. “Oh Benny, give that to me now, before you hurt yourself!”

He lifted the weapon higher, only to stumble back under its weight. “I won’t! Not until he leaves!”

Lilly stepped closer, her face calm, serene, even though her lips were still red from my kisses. “Benny.”

“No, Mummy.” His little body wavered. So very brave. So very stubborn. The look of hatred and fear in his eyes as he stared at me was almost my undoing. Just like that, any desire I’d felt for his mother vanished. My own child despised me, saw me as a monster.

Trapped by his knowing gaze, I couldn’t look away, I couldn’t stop staring at the boy. From his dark hair to his blue eyes…he looked like every one of my brothers. He looked like me. I’d seen it immediately at the museum, but to dwell upon the possibility was too much to bear. And so I’d gone drinking instead. How the hell had I ended up here?

Lillian wrapped her arm around his narrow shoulders and pulled him close. His lower lip quivered, his eyes watering. He was close to crying and I knew he would hate himself for showing such emotion in front of me…a stranger. She rested her hand on the blade of the old sword and pointed it down toward the floor.

“Just go, William,” she pleaded, looking over her shoulder at me. “Leave us alone.”

Startled, I tore my gaze from my son and focused on her. The very woman who had taken everything from me. Almost a decade later and she could still bring me to my knees, could still destroy me.

My hands curled, my anger bitter. “I will never forgive you for this, never.”

“I know,” she whispered.

There was nothing left to say. It took everything in my power to sweep by them, every ounce of control to continue into the hall, out the door and not look back.