Chapter 12

The day spent apartfrom Lilly had dragged. Giles discreetly watched her reclining on the chaise lounge, drinking in the sunshine of a lovely day, but knew he could not avoid her any longer. The time for truth had come.

From his position just inside the doorway, he let his eyes skim over the creamy expanse of her skin above the blue day gown that twisted about her body.

He liked her body too well. When he ran his hands over her legs at night, he yearned for her fine skin wrapped around his bare hips. He longed to take that fatal step and become her first lover.

Yet when her legs had parted wider last night— an innocent response to his tickling— his breath had lodged in his throat. He barely caught himself in time as he leaned forward to inhale the scent of her arousal, halting his intention to spread her legs wide and taste her.

Now in the cold light of day, he berated himself for his lack of control and his stupidity in spending too much time in her company outside the hour needed to soothe her pain away. Today, he needed to explain a few simple truths about how young women had to behave in society, what society expected of them, and the care she must take around him.

Giles had to make her understand and put some distance between them. Well, perhaps not understand the whole of it. He would not tell her exactly how well her body excited his, for instance. That would only complicate matters.

Once his hands touched her skin, Giles lost the ability to think and his world narrowed to the flesh under his fingertips. Lilly appeared to be his ultimate temptation and a direct path into the warmest corner of hell.

He would explain matters then leave, just as soon as her father returned from Wales. She didn’t deserve to have an unrepentant hedonist like him lusting after her. He would return to London and quench the thirst that raged through him with as many willing women as he could find. Anything to remove innocent Lilly from his mind.

Resolved, Giles stepped through the doorway and Lilly turned her face in his direction. Although he’d like to believe the sun triggered the response, he could swear that his heart stopped beating for a full minute.

Giles paused at her side and his fingers closed over her shoulder. He squeezed. The soft silk of her skin burned his fingers and he itched to steal his hand down into the bodice of her gown to touch those full orbs. He had not meant to touch her at all, but as usual he could not seem to help himself.

“Good afternoon, Giles.”

“Good afternoon, Miss Winter. I hope you have had a pleasant day,” he replied formally, as well as he may have done with any young lady in London.

He needed to change every mode of address given to her. After this conversation, Giles would watch his words more carefully and do more to behave like a real gentleman. Once his friends heard about this, if he could bear to confess his part in the situation, they would howl with laughter.

“Yes, thank you.” Lilly’s smile faltered. “Mrs. Osprey has been very good company, but I fear I have taken up far too much of your servant’s time. She must have other duties to attend to.”

“Her time is better served by being a companion to you.”

“I am used to being alone, Giles. I do not need to be entertained as a child might,” Lilly reminded him.

“No, you are not a child, and I do realize that far too well.” Giles had the opening he needed, but for the first time today, he feared he lacked the resolve to do this. “And that is why I want you to listen carefully to what I have to say.”

Lilly’s smile faded at his announcement, but she nodded for him to continue. Perhaps this would be more awkward than he had first thought. He slid into the adjacent chair and prayed he had not made too great an impact on her affections.

“Up until your arrival here last week, I was under the impression that you had died from the injuries of your accident.” He paused a moment to gauge her reactions, but he could see no shock. “Do you understand me? All those times our paths crossed in London, I assumed I was seeing a ghost.”

“I guessed as much.”

“You never spoke a word aloud, and no one ever saw you but me. You have to believe me when I tell you that if I had known you were real, I would not have let you remain to see the activities I was engaged in.”

Lilly’s head dropped so low he could not decide what her reaction was. He leaned forward in his chair and she pulled back. Well, at least he had a reaction of sorts.

“As you know, I lead a less than conventional life, and enjoy every minute of it. Seeing you as you were and allowing you to see me in those embraces was a gross failure on my part. Your father, if and when he learns, would be well within his rights to call me out or shoot me immediately. I wouldn’t blame him. You should not have been roaming around the halls alone in your nightgown.”

Lilly squirmed. “I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Miss Winter, gently bred young women should never be alone with men such as me. You do realize that, don’t you?” He waited for her to nod, but she never moved and he was forced to go on.

“You cannot be alone with me again. I am not to be trusted. If you had even the smallest inkling of the thoughts swirling through my head on most occasions, you would run screaming. Do not trust me or ever consider me safe. I don’t have women as friends, Miss Winter. I enjoy them until they scream. You would do well to distance yourself from me.” Giles stated it harshly, perhaps cruelly, but she needed to understand him clearly, once and for all.

“I know what you do with women, Giles. I have seen evidence enough of that, haven’t I?” She turned her face away.

“As I said, that was a grave mistake on my part.”

Lilly tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and her hand trembled. His heart squeezed at the pain he inflicted, but he had no choice. Lilly had to be protected from him.

“I thought you had made an exception and decided to befriend me, but in truth I could not even raise your interest in that. Despite what you intended, I thought I was your friend. You were mine,” she returned, steel lacing her tone.

Lilly stood, then laid a hand on his shoulder. She squeezed, just as he had done to her moments ago. Her scent wrapped around him, clogging his reasoning and threatening to unman him. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her legs and pull her body into his. His decision to give up his association with Lilly troubled him, and he desperately wanted to take the cold words back.

But it was best for Lilly.

When she walked away without another word or backward glance, Giles’ chest grew tight. He wanted to call out to her, and tell her they would always be friends. But then what? Giles didn’t know what to do with a woman other than to lay her flat on her back and give her pleasure. Lilly was better off without his kind of friendship.

Giles ordered himself to believe that and prayed he could make the lie true.

* * *

Lilly returned to her room in dejection, letting the door slam shut behind her. The heavy thud was a death knell for the small hopes she hadn’t realized she’d nurtured. She locked the door, too, determined to hide from the bleakness of life beyond the pretty walls. But the room’s sunny aspect cut through her control like a hot knife through butter.

She was not a woman. Not really. Giles had no real interest in her and could not even be bothered to pretend about it any longer. Moving to the foot of the bed, Lilly gripped the bedpost and held on as a painful sob escaped her. She couldn’t breathe; her chest tightened tremendously.

Those mocking voices had been right all along. She was no good for anything at all in this life. Not even the most pleasure-obsessed rogue could be bothered to befriend her.

Without him explaining in so many words, Lilly knew deep down how it would go. The little woman, Mrs. Osprey, would become her only company until her papa returned.

And then what?

Would Papa drag her away to yet another house and perhaps leave her there, too? Perhaps he planned to see Lilly compromise herself and finally be free of his responsibility. He might have thought that Giles, a rogue with the wickedest reputation, would be keen enough for the dubious honor.

Lilly would like to think well of her papa, but he had left her alone with one of London’s foremost pleasure-seekers. A man who would whisk away a beautiful woman if she so much as arched a brow at him.

She sat down, not on the bed but on the window seat, and gazed out at the small figures scurrying around the garden. At least they had friends, family, someone to turn to when they were sad.

Now she had no one. Another sob burst free. Furiously, Lilly wiped the tears away, tucked her heels up beneath her, and wrapped her arms around her knees to stop her shaking. When she laid her cheek on top, hot tears poured free beyond her power to control them.

Giles’ rejection hurt so much.

A week ago, Lilly could not have sat as she did now. A week ago, she had excruciating pain. Giles had taken it away. Today, he had given it back tenfold. A week ago, Lilly had not fooled herself into longing for something more than what life had given her.

She looked around the room and grimaced at the memories the space evoked. She couldn’t stay. She wanted to leave Cottingstone. And that thought was enough to begin a hopeless deluge of tears and sobs that racked her whole body, curling her into a tight ball of misery to grieve over the loss of an illusion.

A long time later, scratching at her door intruded on her misery and she stood to let Atticus into the room. Lilly was halfway there when she heard the sound of Giles’ distinctive footsteps in the hall. She froze.

She couldn’t see him again so soon. He shouldn’t know how badly he’d hurt her heart. He would try to explain, offering useless words that would give her no comfort.

Giles believed that putting distance between them was for her own good, for her reputation. But Lilly knew he would be happier the minute she took herself away.

Atticus whined. Ignoring the dog was difficult, but she stayed where she was, three steps from the door, and hoped the wolfhound would go.

As Giles spoke to the dog, Atticus began scratching at the door in earnest. Lilly did not want to upset the dog, but she could not unlock the door to let him in. She might see his master.

Giles was not succeeding at calming the beast, and his heavy knock shook the door. When she bit her lip to keep from answering, he tried the knob. “Lilly, open the door.”

She would not.

The door rattled in its frame as Giles pounded on the wood and Lilly jumped back, startled by his vehemence. She just wanted him to go away. She did not want to face anyone who had the power to hurt her so easily or without regret.

Lilly crept to the door and dropped down near the keyhole. Atticus whined as his sensitive ears picked up her movements. In a low voice, pitched directly to the dog, she commanded him to leave. A yelp assured her that he obeyed and the sound of scratching stopped.

Lilly turned away from the door. There, she was free of the man and his hound. The master could now forget she existed.

“That was cruel, Lilly. Unlock the door.”

Giles’ angry voice on the other side stopped her cold. Why did he care how she treated the dog?

Lilly refused to talk to him. He was not her friend. She was alone, and only had herself and Papa to please. A lonely, dark future instead of the bright one she might have had.

On the mantel was a bottle of Giles’ brandy, a remnant of her first night of temporary relief. She wrapped one hand around the bottleneck while the other hand reached for the tumbler. Brandy, as with laudanum, would take the hurt away.

She set both down on the small writing desk, ignoring Giles’ pounding at the door. Crystal clinked against the side of the tumbler as she poured a generous amount. Tonight, she would still be able to sleep no matter what racket he kicked up outside.

“Lilly, what was that? What are you doing? Come out of there,” Giles ordered, but she was sipping her drink and the burn in her throat would not allow her to answer, even if she’d cared to.

When she’d consumed the first glass, she grimly kept drinking. The laudanum had kept her blissfully numb, and she longed for that peace once again. Strong emotions were too much to handle alone.

The door rattled in the frame again, but then thumping footsteps confirmed he’d gone away.

Lilly tried to be pleased by that fact, but was saddened by his quick withdrawal. Was she truly worth so little effort? Barty had always said so.

She paused with her glass pressed against her lips and tried to remember who Barty was.

The brandy did not aid her memory in any helpful way, but she drank it down and refilled her glass again. In the warmth of the window seat, a light draft stirred the dust motes and she found them more fascinating to study than trying to remember details of an old memory.

When the decanter level dropped low, Lilly frowned at it and wondered how she might acquire more. If her memory could be relied upon, and that was always doubtful, there might be a bottle in the drawing room, dining room, or even Giles’ bedchamber.

Lilly dragged herself upright and weaved her way around the table. Getting there unfortunately seemed to require more effort that she currently possessed. The room dipped and swayed beneath her feet. She smiled, happier to dance among the dust motes instead.

Dancing was thirsty work, so Lilly attempted to pour the last of the brandy, but the dashed glass kept moving and she spilled most of it on the tabletop.

The door behind her crashed open and footsteps rushed toward her. Her sudden turn made the room rock alarmingly, but strong arms caught her before she landed on the floor.

“Ah, Lord Wicked, come to finish me off have you? Perhaps a quick dive off the bridge would save you from my company. Barty said I should have learned to swim.”

Lilly giggled as the dust motes swirled around the earl’s head like a divine halo. How absurd.

Even so, she let her heavy head fall against his shoulder.

“My God, how did you get this drunk so fast?”

She struggled to pull herself away from him. “What do you care? I’m none of your concern.”

“Lilly, please try to understand.”

Giles did not want her friendship. He didn’t want to know her anymore. She shoved against him as hard as she could, but he was always going to be stronger.

The sudden movement was not a good idea, however. Her stomach roiled. Since Giles held her still, Lilly had no choice but to heave up the contents of her stomach—mostly brandy—all over him.

A long moment of silence reigned after her vulgar display and she spun away from the earl. At last, he was quiet. No more hurtful words passed his lips. Somehow, she found the bed and dragged herself across it.

* * *

A proper lady should never overindulge in stronger spirits. That one would be his first lesson for Lillian Winter, and his cautionary tale for his fellow man. Giles pulled the last of his soiled clothing from his body by the time Dithers answered his hastily rung summons.

Unfortunately, the butler inhaled sharply at the scent of the chamber then started gagging. Had Giles understood why Lilly fought against him, he might not have behaved like a complete barbarian. Nevertheless, he still would not have let her go.

Dumping his soiled clothes on top of the ruined carpet, Giles surveyed the consequences of their conversation. Lilly had not taken the discussion well, after all. He’d been a fool to think that his way was best.

Clearly, Lilly hadn’t agreed. As Giles gazed at her, slumped crookedly over the bed and oblivious to the world around her, he cursed his poor judgment yet again. He’d caused her more pain, but he especially didn’t like that she had tried to drown her sorrows in hard spirits.

Flicking her hair from her cheek, his heart ached at the sight of Lilly’s beautiful face splotched red from crying. He’d done that to her. Bastard that he was.

And the woman would have more misery to come from the aftereffects of the brandy later. She would ache like the very devil if she stayed in that position too. He rolled her so she lay straight on her back, tugging her gown to her ankles for modesty.

Dithers regained his composure and crossed to open the window, but gasped as he realized that the master of the house was naked. He hurried back to shut the bedchamber door. “Milord?”

“Don’t say it, Dithers. I know how bad this looks.” He pointed to the rug. “Grab that end, will you?”

Together they rolled the ruined carpet and clothes up into a log. Despite Dithers’ scowling assistance, they dumped the whole lot out the window, removing the majority of the smell in the process. Still naked, Giles crossed to the dressing table to search for Lilly’s perfume. He sprayed some into the air.

He could feel Dithers’ scowl lancing his bare backside. “Dithers, go fetch me a pair of fresh trousers, a robe, and arrange to burn that carpet and everything with it, will you? I think they are beyond repair.”

At the washbasin, Giles rinsed his hands and then dampened a cloth, prepared to cross back to Lilly. Dithers’ expression was hostile. “Now, Dithers. Unless you want to wait for an innocent girl to wake and start screaming from the very sight of me.”

“For Miss Winter, milord.” Red-faced, the butler did as requested.

Giles looked down at the sleeping beauty and shook his head. Now he had two problems to deal with: Lilly’s father, and an angry servant with the ability to make his life difficult. The cloth in his hand dripped water on his foot and reminded him to stop staring. He wiped over Lilly’s face and lips, reached for her hands and wiped them too, then set the cloth aside.

He loosened her gown and eased it off her shoulders and down her body gently. There were a few splatter marks along the hem that needed cleaning, he reasoned. He wasn’t stripping her for any nefarious purpose. As Giles slipped her silk stockings down her legs, she moaned, and he found himself rising without the annoying restriction of clothes.

The red splotches faded from her skin, but her mouth hung open and, to his amusement, Lilly began snoring like a baby bear. His erection remained. So did her chemise.

Giles could not credit his physical reactions at such a time. He juggled the loose-limbed girl under the covers and tucked her into the clean, fresh linens, dragging the blankets up to Lilly’s chin as he always did.

When he was done, he brushed his knuckle beneath Lilly’s jaw, ending her snoring. Her lips pouted, brow scrunching unhappily at his caress. He chuckled, unable to fathom how such a quiet woman’s emotions captivated him so very thoroughly.

He nuzzled her cheek and pressed light kisses to her skin. “Foolish girl, now I have another thing to feel guilty about. Your head will ache like the devil tomorrow.”

Lilly turned her head until her skin touched his lips. He kissed her cheek again, and continued kissing until he reached the corner of her lips. He paused there and searched for the resolve to pull away, but he’d lost it.

Sometime after breaking her heart, he’d lost his own.

Lilly owned him.