FIFTY-TWO

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STILL STARING AT the spot where the final ember had winked out in the fireplace, Lily huddled beneath the covers of her giant state bed.

Although Beatrix nestled against her and Rose snored softly nearby, she’d never felt so alone in her life.

Was she fated to be alone forever?

There must be another way, Rand had said over and over, as though he could make it so by repetition alone. But Lily was unconvinced. It seemed that no matter what solution they came up with, his father would shoot it down.

For a long time she lay awake, stroking Beatrix’s downy fur and watching the unfriendly shadows cast on the walls by tree branches blowing in the wind. Rand had no love for this house, and as much as she always tried to look on the bright side of things, she couldn’t help but think that in this case he was right. Although it was beautiful, there seemed something sinister about Hawkridge, something that made her skin crawl. She didn’t feel safe here.

She hugged herself for a long while, praying for exhaustion to overtake her. Then she climbed out of bed and slid a wrapper over her night rail.

A few minutes later, she knocked softly on Rand’s door.

He came to answer, wearing just breeches and a shirt that was open at the neck and cuffs. He looked as sleepless as she.

“Rand?” Feeling shy and nervous, she fingered the end of her long plait. “May I sleep here?”

He gathered her close. “I thought we were trying not to tempt each other, in case it turns out…well, you know,” he finished lamely.

A heaviness settled in Lily’s heart. She stared down at his bare feet. No matter what he said over and over, he wasn’t convinced that everything would end well. Or else he would be inviting her in, no questions asked.

Feeling like she had nothing to lose, she raised a palm and placed it against his chest, inside the open placket of his shirt, where his bare skin was brown and warm. “Rand…” Shutting her eyes against the pain in his, she went on tiptoe for a kiss. Though his mouth on hers felt achingly familiar, the melting sensation didn’t bring the relief she was seeking.

It failed to make her forget that, barring a miracle, he would soon be married to someone else.

He reached blindly to bury his fingers in her hair, deepening the kiss until the melting turned into a searing heat tinged with the bite of brandy. A tiny moan escaped her throat as she wondered if this was the last time their lips would move together, the last time she’d feel his warmth spread all the way out to her fingertips and toes.

Finally, with a strangled sound, he broke the kiss and swung her up into his arms.

She gave a yelp of surprise. “Rand, what on earth—”

“We’ll only sleep, Lily.” He deposited her on his small childhood bed and looked down on her, gently finger-combing her hair into a halo around her head. “Perhaps if we stay together, we’ll both be able to sleep.”

Her big blue eyes blinked up at him, red and swollen but still impossibly beautiful. “I know we shouldn’t, but just now I cannot bring myself to care.” She bit her lip, and he noticed her mouth, too, was red and swollen—but from kissing instead of crying. “Will the staff realize I’m here?”

He lay down beside her, pulling her slender form against him. “I’ll walk you back before first light. We’ve a couple hours yet.” Regardless of what he’d said, he wondered if he would be able to sleep at all with her in his arms, feeling like heaven. He’d be a wreck tomorrow.

It would be worth it.

Feeling limp and exhausted, he lay perfectly still, holding her close and smelling her hair. As she drifted off his eyes remained open, staring up at the underside of the serviceable blue canopy overhead. No Queen’s Bedchamber, this—no silk for Rand Nesbitt at Hawkridge Hall. His room was barely more than a closet.

“I don’t like it here,” she whispered into the silence, though Rand had thought she was asleep. ”This house. I cannot sleep here alone.”

“But you’re not alone. You’re with Rose.”

“With Rose I am still alone,” she said sadly.

“Stay with me, then,” Rand murmured in her ear. He snuggled closer still, burying his nose in her soft curls. “And tomorrow, I’ll take you home.”