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Azalea. Calla. Dahlia.
Lucas. Matthew. George.
I thought I felt a flutter around Lucas, but we shall see...
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AS LUNCHEONS WENT, Lily didn’t think it could be worse.
Iris and Cara flanked her, the three sisters watching in horror as Asa Lynch strode through the party looking for all the world like he belonged there and hadn’t ruined Lily’s reputation seven years prior.
Please be a hallucination.
Though she knew it unlikely based on the matching looks of shock painted on her sisters’ faces, the tiniest possibility remained, considering Lily could’ve sworn she’d seen Mr. Laramie skittering through the party earlier. Which made about as much sense as her past liaison’s current presence.
“What on earth is he doing here? Doesn’t he work for a family in Derbyshire now?” Nothing like the ghosts of mistakes past to rise again and wreak havoc on her life. Everything had been going too well since her and Owen’s truce. It was only right for fate to throw Asa back in her face.
And for him to appear at the last public event I’m attending before going into confinement.
“His mother must have invited him for a visit, and he decided to join her today. It’s the only explanation, because I doubt he cares about the parsonage’s new roof.” The purpose of the day’s function was to celebrate the generous benefactors who’d provided the funds for said roofing, particularly the Earl and Countess of Trent, thus her and Owen’s presence.
“Is he daft? What possible good does he think could come from flaunting around these parts while Lily’s a countess now. She has Owen’s protection and reviving the scandal could only bring negative light to himself.” Iris rightly pointed out, sipping the tepid tea in her cup.
“Well, he lied about what happened in the first place, so I wouldn’t bank on his stock of common sense.” Honestly, what had she been thinking of choosing him as the man to use for breaking things off with Owen? “Perhaps he likes the spotlight, however fractured and tainted it may be.”
“Oh, dear!” Cara waved her fan vigorously, shooting her wayward curls askew. “He’s coming this way. The absolute nerve!”
Girding herself for the forthcoming conversation, Lily straightened her shoulders and searched for her husband in the crowd. She didn’t want him to catch them together, no matter how innocent the exchange.
“Ah, the infamous Garden Girls! How lovely to see you all.” Usually not one for fanfare, Lily resisted correcting his improper address as he didn’t even mention her improved status in society.
“Mr. Lynch.”
“Pardon my interruption, but there’s a matter of importance I must discuss with her ladyship.” He had the audacity to wink at her. The impertinent, uncouth...
“I’m not certain that is wise, sir. Given the circumstances.”
An agreement stuttered to a halt on Lily’s lips. It occurred to her that this might be her only opportunity to learn why Lynch had lied about their liaison. To finally know the whole sordid story that had spun out of her control.
“Don’t worry, dear. Five minutes won’t blacken my name anymore that it has been. Shall we take a turn about the garden?” Without waiting for a response, she turned in her slippers and left her sisters gaping after them while the hurried footsteps of Lynch followed closely behind.
Waist length hedges sat in orderly rows of flourishing green, white, and red, providing a suitable amount of privacy while keeping them in full view of guests. She would not be caught alone with the bounder.
“Say what you have to say, for I have questions of my own for you to answer,” she snipped, infusing her voice with all the frostiness of a bored monarch.
“Is that anyway to treat an old friend, Lil?”
She abhorred that nickname. “You will address me in a way befitting the Countess of Trent. My lady will do just fine.”
“Come on, Lil.” She wondered how much pressure it took to break a tooth as her molars ground together. Insufferable man. “It’s me. Surely, I deserve better than cold disregard.”
He truly was mad.
“Surely, you say.” Her fingers wound around her folded fan and a temptation to whack him over the head with it bolted down her arm. Oh, how she’d love to witness his reaction to being so thoroughly walloped. “As I recall, we shared a peck on the lips—I’d hardly qualify it as a legitimate embrace—when you decided to embellish to the point of blatant falsehoods. Implying I’d given you my virtue. Ruining my reputation. Making me a pariah for years to come. What part of being a lying, scheming bastard deserves anything more than a swift kick to your groin?”
Massive amounts of oxygen filled her lungs as she huffed in righteous anger. The nerve of this man!
“Still a little spitfire, I see.” Lynch chuckled—ignoring her insults, her threats—instead daring to grab her arm and trap her between two arches at the end of the row, shielding them from view.
“Unhand me, you mongrel.” She ripped her arm out of his grip. The joy of finally letting loose the store of names she’d imagined calling him if they ever met again sent a rush of satisfaction straight to her head. Ladies, especially countesses, didn’t speak so plainly, but she wasn’t in polite company at the moment.
No, an unrepentant leech stood before her instead.
Her hatred seemed to penetrate Lynch’s congenial facade at long last as his eyes narrowed. “Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy our kiss. And don’t act as if you didn’t want more. No self-respecting woman throws herself at a man without wanting a bit of a slap and tickle. I’m just here to make good on all those implications.”
“You must be truly delusional if you think for one moment I would ever allow you to touch me again. The fact that I let your despicable mouth near mine is a regret I’ll have for the rest of my life, if only I could scrub the memory away.”
Brows furrowing in anger, his hands snatched her by the shoulders and shoved her against the stone arch at her back. Fear should’ve entered at this point, but Lily’s fury was too ferocious. Smacking her fan against his face, she tried to fight him off. “Release me at once! When Owen discovers what you’ve done, he’ll—”
Lynch laughed in her face, an ugly sound that grated on her ears. “Ha! Your precious earl? What will he do? Escape to France again? Spain? He won’t do anything because he doesn’t care about you. He didn’t then either, or else he wouldn’t have run like a bloody jackrabbit.”
“Don’t you dare insult him, you—”
“Darling, I can fight my own battles, but I do appreciate the effort.” A deceivingly calm drawl came from behind Lynch, and Lily sagged in relief at Owen’s arrival, then tensed as she imagined how this scene must look to him. Her, alone again with Lynch. Just like before.
Except this time your lips aren’t pressed together in a paltry facsimile of betrayal.
“As for you.” He ripped Lynch backwards, tossing the man to the grass. “If you ever come near my wife again, I will use all the power infused in me by the Queen of England to ensure you never step foot on English soil again. Do I make myself clear?”
Lynch scoffed. The man really was an imbecile. “You may be a lord, but I don’t kowtow to no one. Least of all a man satisfied with taking my sloppy seconds.”
She gasped at the insinuation, blanching at the damning words.
Owen dragged Lynch up by the collar before slamming him into the arch she’d previously been trapped against. “Fucking bastard!” A swift fist to Lynch’s gut bent the man over double. “You dare to dishonor my wife, the bloody Countess of Trent, the woman carrying my child to my face?” His knee drove upward, straight into Lynch’s nose, and she winced at the resounding crunch of bone.
Agony written on his crumpled features, Asa fell to the ground, clutching a bloody nose. “You broke it!” He howled in pain, and a crowd began to circle them.
“That won’t be the last thing I break if I see you again. Heed my warning this time. Get the fuck out of Hampshire before I have you shipped to the colonies in Australia.” Threat delivered, Owen whipped around to brace an arm around Lily’s back and usher her to privacy, allowing gossip to circulate unhindered behind them.
“Owen...”
“Don’t. Say. A. Fucking. Word.” A shuddering breath ran through him. “I... I’m trying to control myself after seeing Lynch again.”
Tears rose unbidden as her mouth trembled in silence.
This was the man from before.
The man who loathed her.
The man she’d betrayed.
“Why did you let me believe you slept with Lynch?” Owen asked, dropping his hold on her like it was a hot coal burning his hand. He’d led her to their carriage where he’d promptly instructed their driver to take them home.
On opposite sides of the closed conveyance, a sense of relief seemed contrary to the situation, but to finally have this conversation once and for all comforted her. They’d broached it a couple of times, usually in anger, neither of them ever able to stay calm enough to have it out.
The few times they had managed to control themselves, they’d been interrupted.
Now it appeared—calm or not—they would finish this.
“It was for the best.”
“How do you figure? Was it for the best when I couldn’t stomach staying in Shoreham to comfort my mother after my father’s death? Was it for the best that I’d lost my best friend and lover in one fell swoop? Or perhaps you’re referring to the night I took your maidenhead against a damn wall?” The lethality of his words escalated until he pinned Lily with a harsh stare, daring her to refute him.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Lily repeated her reasoning. “It needed to be done.” Remembered frustration welled inside her gut, heightening her own ire at his naivete. “It was naïve of us to believe an earl's son could marry a professor’s daughter, a nobody. We were too young and idealistic.” Her disgusted snipe clearly chafed his already raw nerves as his nostrils flared like a bull seeing red. “I did what had to be done; what you couldn't do.”
“What you did was decide that it wouldn't work between us and took it upon yourself to ruin your reputation. Don't think I haven't heard the stories coming out of the village. Servants talk. You decided that this was all for me? Horse shite! You did it for yourself because you were scared.”
“I'm not afraid of anything, least of all what gossip mongers in the village say. I was the stronger of the two of us then.”
“You truly believe that, don’t you?” Amazement painted his features. “Orchestrating a childish scheme to break things off while casting yourself in the muck. A strong person would’ve told me outright that you wanted out.”
“And you would have accepted such a declaration? You’re as delusional as Lynch if that’s what you believe.” Why couldn’t he see? She’d done what needed to be done for them to go on with their lives without prolonging the inevitable heartbreak. Except you did the exact opposite. You extended everything out another seven bloody years.
“Don’t compare me to him. I’m a gentleman, a damned lord of the realm! I’ve never forced a woman in my life. If you cared nothing for me, you could’ve said so instead of stomping my heart into the dust like a bug under your boot.”
“Can’t you see? I did care for you. I loved you, for goodness’s sake! If I tried to lie to your face, you would have seen right through me, and we would have remained together no matter the consequences. No matter how the relationship between you and your parents would’ve been affected.”
“My parents never expected me to...” A beseeching look overcame his features as he bent forward, elbows propped on his knees.
“Don’t patronize me, Owen. Of course, they did. You forget I know your family’s history. They liked me, yes, but would they truly have wanted me as a daughter-in-law? Your father, who was already trying to overcome his father’s tainted past? No, and that’s the truth. What then?”
“We would have married, like we are now, with my mother adoring you. We ended up in the same position, only with years of pain and distrust between us instead of love and affection. Thanks to you,” he bit out, a red hue of anger highlighting his cheeks.
A jolt shook the carriage as a sharp retort froze on her tongue.
They were home.
Lily didn’t wait for Owen to exit before ambling down herself to the surprise of the footman holding the door aloft. Avoiding the house, she headed towards the stables, needing the innocent kittens to soothe her frayed nerves. Zinnia had given birth to a litter of three over a week ago, and she needed their sweet temperament to settle her raging emotions.
“Where are you going? We’re not done yet.”
“I’d prefer to not announce our issues to the entire staff. Is that too much to ask, your lordship?”
“Christ, you infuriating woman!” His heavy marching pounded the path behind her, and she expelled a breath of relief at seeing the empty stables. The stable-hands, nowhere to be found.
“Do you think if I’d known we’d end up in this farce of a marriage after all this time that I would’ve continued with my plan? Do you think I have a sadistic need to inflict as much pain as possible on myself and others? What a terrible wife you’ve tied yourself to.” Swiping at her watery eyes, Lily hurried to a stall at the end and swung open the gate to approach Zinnia and her babies, safe in a fresh bed of hay.
“Hello, darlings. I’m afraid I’m in need of your comfort,” she murmured. Unfortunately, they were napping instead of awake and ready to jump into her needy arms. Reluctant to disturb their sleeping forms, Lily knelt in the hay to run gentle fingertips over their silky coats, the contact giving her a semblance of peace.
It’s just another argument with Owen. You’ll get through this.
But her emotions boiled too close to the surface, threatening to spill over to splash and burn everything in its wake. Her skin itched. Her heart thumped like the battle drums at Waterloo.
A helpless growl stuck in Owen’s chest, and he slammed a fist against a wooden plank in the wall, spooking one of the mares. Apologizing to the poor animal, Owen watched Lily from outside the gate.
“Of course not. But I have noticed your penchant to view life through something akin to black-tinted glasses.” The fury deflated in him as she watched the transformation from tense and hunched to looser but confused, his expressive features arranging themselves in a gentler emotion.
“Is it any wonder why? My life’s a shambles.”
“Hardly. You have loving sisters. You’re a countess. You can have anything you want if you only ask.”
Lily carefully stood to her feet and left the cats to their nap. She’d interrupted their sleep enough. Pacing from stall to stall, her long braid swung down her back—wayward strands sticking out all over her head after falling loose from its earlier coronet—fists opening and closing as she tried to quell the raging storm inside.
“You don’t understand. At any moment, everything can change, disappear. Seven years ago, I made a decision and fate decided to punish me for it in a never-ending cycle of negative karma. Lynch serves as a perfect example! Why else would he randomly appear in our lives again?”
Shaking her head in frustration, Lily tried to cuddle the curious head of a mare who peeked over the door caging her in, but the horse immediately shifted away, escaping her needy clutch.
Even this gentle beast can’t stand to be near me.
“Everything’s been wrong since Lynch and my parents’ deaths, then losing you and almost the house. I can’t get past it.” A sob broke through the anger masking the deep well of sadness inside her. “Something’s wrong with me, something unfixable.”
“Nonsense. What can I do?” Owen asked, hesitantly moving closer, the fiery battle earlier forgotten in the wake of her brokenness. “I hate seeing you cry.”
“Probably not as much as I hate crying.” A trembling hand smoothed over her cheeks. “I’m just so sad. And so angry I could scream.”
“Then scream, but not in here or you’ll scare the horses.” Catching one of her hands, she found herself being led by Owen for the second time that day. “But we can go to the lake.”
“Changing scenery won’t fix me. I’m not good, Owen. I don’t deserve you or any of this.” A sweep of her arm encompassed the surrounding estate: grand mansion, rolling hills, and the lake beyond the tree line.
“What are you talking about?”
“There’s a reason these bad things keep happening to me.”
“Your sisters lost their parents, too, sweetheart.”
“Yes, but I’m the one who brought shame and scandal. I’m the one who tore me and you apart. Even Mr. Laramie chose me to marry! Something inside me drew him in—the wicked part.” Lost in her tirade, a familiar refrain that played in her mind on the darkest of nights, she continued, “I’m not sweet or kind like Iris or as self-sacrificing as Cara. I’m selfish. I’m mean. Aren't you tired of me yet? Rude, rash—I’m nothing like that girl you used to know.”
Owen tilted his head to the side as they traipsed over rocks and old, brittle leaves along the forest floor. “Really...” A challenging twinkle entered his eyes. “Because the girl I remember had that same attitude of defiance, even if she wasn’t quite so melancholic or self-pitying.”
“It’s not self-pity if it’s the truth.”
“It’s opinion. A very wrong opinion.” They broke through the brush to a serene view of the lake, dark blue and glinting in the sunlight. “Now, strip to your chemise because we’re going swimming.”
“Now?” They were in the middle of an argument turned, well, essentially, it turned into her spilling her soul to him in a bid to show him every shadowy part of her. To make him see her as she was. As she knew herself to be.
“Yes. I think we can both use a cool down.” Tan fingers flitted over Owen’s clothing, unbuttoning and untying, while she stood dumbfounded, baffled by the swatches of skin being revealed. “Any day now, Lily-pad.”
Sweat gathered on her brow, and a longing glance shot over the water, sure to be cool and refreshing. You’ve already bared your soul. What’s a little flesh?
Besides, she wasn’t one to shirk from an obvious dare.
Making quick work of her clothing, Lily kept her underthings on as a shield—a flimsy one, but a barrier nonetheless—and waited for her husband’s next directive.