Chapter 13

A scratchand shuffle of papers woke Lilly from a confusing sleep. Her eyes refused to open easily, and she lay in her bed wondering why her stomach ached so badly. Her mouth tasted of ashes.

Lilly cracked her eyes open a slit and groaned as bright light pierced her brain. Moving gingerly in the bed, she grew aware that her head throbbed in time with her blood. She wished she could remember why she felt so horrible. She’d gotten used to feeling good again.

Yesterday.

Yesterday, Giles had spurned her simple friendship and destroyed her fragile world. Yes, she remembered that too well. Her chest ached, competing with the pounding in her skull, and she was not sure which one was the winner. Giles had pushed her away, and she had come back to her room to hide her heartbreak.

She was always alone—it was nothing new—but she had become used to hearing Giles’ voice and the touch of his hands upon her. Now both would be gone, and the sense of loss was overwhelming. Lilly raised a hand to her face to prevent the tears in her eyes from spilling, but her limb was as heavy as lead. Pressing her fingers against her eyes, she struggled to control her emotions.

At least her sense of smell hadn’t deserted her. Lemon scent bathed the room in a comforting balm, subtle and soothing, a counterpoint to the pain in her head. She breathed deep and dragged her hand away from her face, rubbing over her aching chest. She was foolish to allow Giles’ rejection to hurt her so badly. She curled up on her side to study the bedpost and the distant door.

She’d locked her bedchamber door last night. The first time she’d ever thought to take such a step. Locked out the pain that waited beyond, and had even sent Atticus away. Poor dog. But if his master didn’t want her then she shouldn’t monopolize his company.

Running her fingers over the stitching on the sheet with one finger, Lilly contemplated the mess her life had become. Nothing was ever allowed to be truly wonderful for long. She should be used to the disappointment, but as a child she’d had far different dreams than this. All she had wanted was a home and to marry someone who would be nice to her. It hadn’t seemed too much to ask.

Lilly heard that faint sound again and realized someone else was in the room. It was probably just Mrs. Osprey. She must be reading or doing something equally involved, because she made scarcely a sound. The housekeeper must have used the spare key to slip into the room while she slept. Lilly hoped Mrs. Osprey had relocked it again. Not that Giles would seek her out anymore.

Not in the mood for company, Lilly lay still, as though she were asleep. She would prefer to pretend a while longer that yesterday had not happened, and that she had never become better acquainted with Giles Wexham.

Without Atticus in the room, she could pretend that this was just another bedchamber in a long line of anonymous guest rooms across England, an unknown location seen through a brief moment of clarity. Just at this moment, she would give anything to have the fog of laudanum settle over her and blur the world away.

But china clinked behind her, reminded her she was being rude. In fact, she was quite amazed at the silence the housekeeper had managed to maintain. Mrs. Osprey was a jittery sort of woman and stayed still for only very short lengths of time. Lilly supposed she should turn around so as not to appear impolite. It wasn’t right to take her disappointment out on Giles’ housekeeper.

With a sigh, Lilly turned over and faced the direction of the sound, blinking her eyes as if waking from sleep, but Mrs. Osprey was not there at all.

Giles sat at her writing table, pen poised beside his teacup with papers scattered before him. He was also looking steadily over his shoulder at her.

Lilly threw the covers over her head and scurried underneath, not wanting to face his rejection again.

However, the sudden movement made her head ache with fresh pain, and she couldn’t hold back her gasp. She cursed herself for showing weakness in front of him, and pulled the covers tighter to her head.

The chair creaked and loud footfalls came closer, tapping against the wood like an army come to make war. Lilly buried herself deeper. Could the man not take the hint that she didn’t want to see him?

She did wish Giles would not stomp across her chamber like that, either. He could at least walk on the carpet. Surely they could hear his footfalls all the way to India.

The bed dipped as Giles’ weight settled on the edge, and Lilly tried to squirm away. Strong arms caged her in place, then bright daylight pierced her eyelids as he pulled the covers back. She put her hands up to cover her face.

Giles sat still, waiting her out it seemed, but she was not going to look at him no matter how long he stayed there.

“How bad is your head today, Lilly?” Giles asked quietly, but far too loud for her throbbing head to appreciate.

She stayed silent and wished him a thousand miles away. How dare Giles sound like he cared about her, today of all days? She tried to roll over, but he did not let her. His big hands pressed high on her chest and pushed her flat on her back, then grasped her wrists and pulled them away from her face.

Lilly truly did try to fight him, but she was nowhere near strong enough to hope to win. “Go away, Lord Daventry.”

“No.”

Lilly whipped her hands into fists, prepared to do something with them, but he chuckled softly and pressed her hands to the mattress beside her head, permitting her no movement at all.

She opened her eyes to glare at him, but the effect was ruined by the way the light made her flinch. Giles’ gaze was sad when she could finally meet his eyes. Her head throbbed, so she stayed just where she was and did not fight him. It would not matter. He would go away soon enough.

Giles remained silent. She found herself hypnotized by his blue-eyed stare and the motion of his thumbs over her clenched fists. She relaxed her hands in defeat and attempted to pull them back, but Giles twined his fingers through hers and held tight.

She did not understand him. Surely, this was no way to keep his distance.

“Now, I believe I asked how you were feeling this morning, and I am still waiting on an answer.”

“What does it matter? Please just go, my lord. I don’t want you here. You don’t want to be here, either. Stop pretending and leave.”

“Giles,” he reminded her. “What I wanted yesterday, and what I want today, have no bearing on the question. I need to know how you feel. You did drink a lot of brandy last night. Your head probably feels as if one hundred angry drummers are pounding away in there.”

Giles released one hand and brushed her hair back from her eyes. Lilly froze at the look on his face. That expression was one she did not recognize. No one had ever looked at her in such a way before and she was tongue-tied.

He continued to straighten the strands and stroked the longer lengths through to the tips. No one ever played with her hair, either, yet he seemed fascinated by it.

“I drank brandy? I don’t remember.”

“That’s probably just as well. It was not one of your finer moments.” Giles’ fingers brushed her ears and she squirmed away from the tickle. “Here, let me help you sit up. You have slept the day away.”

His big hands eased under her shoulders and Lilly gingerly moved into an upright position. While Giles settled more pillows behind her back, Lilly breathed deep, savoring his scent and wrapping it around her like a well-loved blanket.

When she was comfortable, he sank down on the mattress edge again and just stared at her. A glance at the window confirmed that the sun was indeed setting.

When her gaze returned to Giles, he was no longer watching her face. His bright eyes were cast somewhat lower. Startled, she looked down. Why had she worn the fine silk chemise to bed? She breathed in to ask, but her indrawn breath displayed what held Giles’ attention.

Stunned, embarrassed, and fascinated by Giles, she watched his hands grasp the edge of the blanket and drag it up her chest to cover her exposed breasts. Ragged breathing caressed her cheek and when Lilly turned, his blue eyes hid behind ginger-lashed lids mere inches from her own.

Up close, the man was breathtaking. Giles drew his hands back slowly, stroking the side of her body boldly. When he stopped touching her, Lilly could breathe freely again.

His blue eyes flared open and they were as bright as she had ever seen. “Are you going to help me out here or do I have to become a tyrant? Are you thirsty? Can you eat something? Is the light too bright? Do you need to go somewhere you would rather not name? Talk to me, Lilly. I only want to take care of you.”

She licked her lips to speak. Her mouth was as dry as parchment. Giles’ eyes followed her tongue. Lilly hastily croaked out a request for water and he fetched it. She was not hungry, but Giles returned with a plate wrapped in linen and uncovered a hunk of plain bread. He broke off a piece and handed it to her.

Lilly nibbled at it. Why had Giles returned to her again? He appeared in no hurry to leave, either. Nevertheless, it would come, she was sure of that. He was only delaying the inevitable.

In a flash of vision, she remembered fighting against him and frowned, unsure of when that had happened. She dropped her eyes and turned her head to look at the floor. The boards were bare. She glanced at Giles, but he had seen the direction of her gaze.

“It was not one of my favorite rugs.” Giles brushed another strand of hair back from her face. “No matter, another carpet will be found in the attics today.”

Lilly struggled with her hazy memory, then remembered that she had been sick—and all over him, too. Beyond embarrassed, she buried her head in her hands.

Giles leaned close, running his hand up and down her spine. “It does not matter, Lilly. It really does not.”

The unmistakable sensation of Giles kissing her hair snapped her out of her misery, but sank her further into confusion. Giles kissed lovers. She moved her head away, catching a glimpse of that odd expression on his face again. He should not tease; that was just too cruel.

With a sigh, he brushed her hair back and placed the plate in her lap. “Eat something more and then rest. You will be better for it.” He squeezed her arm, then walked to the writing desk again with stiff movements and returned to his papers.

* * *

A short time later, Lilly stirred. Giles heard her feet hit the floor with a thud. Instead of turning immediately, he hesitated. He knew what he would see.

Everything he wanted. More than she should give to a man like him. He didn’t want to turn around and catch another glimpse of her breasts through the thin silk, but he also couldn’t stand not to watch over her.

Desperately Giles wished he had found a robe in his sister’s wardrobe before today, but he had never remembered to locate one. He would send Mrs. Osprey to hunt for one today or, if he could bear to leave Lilly alone again, he would find one himself.

Bracing himself, Giles turned. Lilly was still holding on to the bed and exposed a great length of leg to his hungry eyes. Fighting the urge to hurry, Giles stood slowly and went to her, threading his arm around Lilly’s waist as naturally as if he had done it a hundred times before.

She resisted initially, but soon gave up when his viselike grip on her waist refused to yield. It was either that or allow his hand to roam where it wanted.

Without a word, Giles led her across the room to the screened corner, and then stepped out into the hall, giving her privacy and him time to control his rampant erection. He flung open the door to his sister’s overstuffed bedchamber and searched for a robe. He found one in the third drawer and snatched it up, hurrying to return to Lilly.

At the doorway, Giles swayed back. That chemise was too damn thin. The light streaming in behind Lilly had turned it transparent. His breathing hitched as he made out the swell of her breasts beneath the silk, the curve of her tiny waist, the flare of her hips, and the near-invisible pale curls between her legs. His body’s response, which had not died away, roared out of his control and tented the front of his trousers in a very obvious way.

Giles drew the robe in front of his groin.

Teeth gritted, he crossed to Lilly’s side, moving his traitorous body behind her and out of her line of sight. He’d always heard virgins were devilishly prickly about the sight of an erection at close range. He did not want to do anything else to lower her opinion of him.

Sliding the pink silk around Lilly’s shoulders, he waited while her arms found the sleeves. Then he gathered the sides to cross them over her body before tying the sash and flattened his hands over her belly.

Lilly stiffened as he pulled her into his embrace, letting her touch arouse him further. His cock ached as he brushed against her tiny body. He couldn’t hide his desire.

Standing this close together, he could rest his chin on the top of her head, but instead angled it so he could press his lips against her hair. He swayed, drawing Lilly with him, unwilling to ignore the curious sensation of winding himself around her without either one of them moving.

They stayed like that a while and Giles wondered what she thought of him holding her. Lilly had not said a word and he was loath to be the first to pull back. He loved this too much, her warmth, her smell, her trust in him.

A touch as light as the wind brushed against his fingers and let him know that she was not appalled at his behavior. “This is like dancing, isn’t it?” Her voice wavered as she snuggled into him, tempting his desire higher than he wished.

“Yes, almost,” he returned, but that was another lie. He’d never suffered an erection while dancing with any lady of the ton. Not in all his years of wicked decadence.

“I used to like to dance, but it has been so long I’ve probably forgotten all the steps. The waltz looks divine. Do you know how to dance it?”

“I have tried it a time or two, yes,” he assured her, moving his hips against her bottom without meaning to.

“Would you teach me someday, Giles?” Lilly shook her head, brushing her blonde hair against his skin. “I’m sorry. Forget I asked that.”

Her head dipped away and she looked down at the floor. Her fingers burrowed under his, trying to get free, but Giles was having none of that. Yesterday had been a mistake, and he fully intended to make it up to Lilly as quickly as he could.

He lowered his mouth to her ear. “I will teach you now. How about that?”

Despite his self-recriminations that he was moving too fast, he brushed his erection against her backside one last time and stepped back. Erection still outstanding, he turned Lilly to face him and she looked up. Her eyes were bright with confusion and pleasure, each warring for dominance.

Giles took her hands, placed one against his shoulder and took the other in his. He wrapped his arm around her back so it rested high between her shoulder blades and away from the temptation of her rear.

“This is the correct posture for dancing the waltz. The proper distance must be maintained at all times, or the woman will be censured by her peers and the man applauded by his fellows. Be sure to be the one to maintain the distance and do not rely on the man to do so, all right?”

Giles started them moving, slowly at first until Lilly got the hang of the steps. He knew the exact moment Lilly acknowledge his aroused state. Her hand flexed in his, gripping tightly, but she still watched downward. He tried not to become more aroused than he was.

A foolish wish.

He twirled her around slowly, conscious that too much spinning would not be good for her head but determined not to disappoint her. Giles persistently drew her closer, making Lilly enforce the distance between them until he gave up trying and just enjoyed dancing with her.

A knock on the door separated them. Giles gave Lilly a moment to scamper back into bed before he acknowledged the knock. Dithers opened the door, peering at him and Lilly, then opened the door wide.

A maid entered, Maisie or Daisy—he could never tell them apart—bearing linen, and then the rest of his staff followed, carrying tableware and a dinner designed to please two.