Nineteen

Still in Kelston Hall’s dining room

After a handful of embarrassing seconds

Though her fingers had grown clumsy and pickle-sized, Lilly finally managed to place the lid on the ointment tin.

With a mere glance, Zander threw her into a dither.

Of course, she wanted children, but she had determined years ago it was not her lot in life.

“I have dedicated my life to the children at Kelston Hall, Zander.” She placed the tin in the medicine chest and then gave him a sideways glance.

“What about you? Do you want children?”

Dash it to ribbons .

At her folly, she almost groaned aloud.

He might already have children.

The thought sat like curdled milk in her stomach. Not that he might have children, but what it meant if he had a family.

If he did, they must be worried sick about him.

“I have always liked children.” A skillful deflection.

He leaned over and snatched three biscuits off the plate. As he bit into the crisp, spicy sweetness, his attention fell on the correspondence Lilly had tossed onto the table in her haste to reach Eddy.

Slowly straightening, Zander lifted the top letter.

“From Cambridge,” he muttered beneath his breath, a hint of something Lilly could not identify, rendering his voice husky.

He glanced between Lilly and the rectangle he held between his thumb and forefinger.

“I was on my way to my office to open it, when I heard Eddy’s cry.” Why Lilly felt the need to explain herself mystified her.

Zander nodded but remained silent.

Could he be as concerned as she was?

“I fully intend to share the contents with you, Zander.”

She swiped a tendril of hair that had come loose away from her face.

And there she went again.

Her tongue seemed to have taken on a life of its own and jabbered away without her permission. A most disturbing development, and one she must put an end to at once.

Was he as worried as Lilly that whatever was written on that paper would send their worlds upon their heads?

That they had no more control over what happened next than they did the sun rising and setting on the horizon each day?

Zander dropped the letter, and then the cookies onto the table.

Before Lilly knew what he was about, he gathered her into his arms and drew her against his hard chest.

His lips hovered above hers.

“That letter may well tumble us tail over top. So, before you open it and everything changes, I want to kiss you, Lilly.”

He grazed a finger over her cheek, the contours and planes of his beloved face taut with suppressed desire.

“Will you let me, Lilly? Let us share this one moment? Mayhap, the only one we shall ever have?”

She should say no and pull away from his embrace.

It is what an upright, moral woman would do without hesitation. Without regret or recrimination.

What Lilly should do and what she wanted to do wrestled for domination, but the outcome was predetermined.

Because Zander was right.

The contents of the letter would likely leave her floundering in a jumble and, by all that was holy, at least she would have his splendid kiss to remember him.

For the kiss would be splendid. Spectacular. Glorious.

How could it not?

“Yes, Zander.”

Was that breathless, sultry voice hers?

“Kiss me.”

Still in the dining room

A satisfied groan throttled its way up Zander’s throat as he captured Lilly’s mouth in a searing kiss. He honestly did not know what he would have done if she had refused.

The joining of his and Lilly’s mouths was everything he had dreamed it would be and more.

So much more.

His pent-up desire threatened to ignite them into a blazing conflagration. And by God, he would willingly burn to cinders for the opportunity to hold her and taste her mouth. To say with his caresses and lips what he dared not voice.

Lord, was there ever such a magnificent woman?

She had become so beautiful and cherished to him; he hardly noticed the light smattering of pox scars on her face.

Though it was unwise, and someone could interrupt them at any moment, he pressed her nearer, one hand between her shoulder blades, and the other at the small of her back.

Twining her arms around his neck, she molded her soft, sweet lips and luscious body to his, giving as much as she took. Though obviously a novice at kissing, she eagerly explored his mouth, mimicking his movements. Her little sighs as she pressed into him almost drove him over the edge—past the point of retreat.

Somewhere in the house, a longcase clock chimed twice.

Careful. Caution .

This was madness.

He must stop.

For Lilly’s sake and his.

Dredging up every ounce of his self-control, Zander lifted his mouth from hers and set her away from him.

Her lips, moist and full, glowed cherry-red from his fervent kisses.

She appeared so ravishing and alluring, so muddled and bemused that he fisted his hands to keep from hauling her back into his arms and finishing what he had started—to hell with decorum and the servants’ delicate sensibilities.

But Zander was a gentleman.

He might not know his name or where he came from, but at his core, he knew he was an honorable man.

More importantly, Lilly was a lady, and he would not treat her like a dockside harlot and take her upon the dining room table.

Imagine the scandal.

Her eyes wide and still slightly dazed, Lilly put two shaky fingers to her lips.

With a single glance, anyone with an iota of common sense would comprehend what had occurred between them.

“I…I did not know a kiss could be like that,” Lilly whispered, dazed.

Most kisses are not, darling .

Unrepentant masculine pride roared through Zander’s veins.

Out of sheer preservation against giving into his baser instincts, he tore his gaze from her and picked up the letter. “Shall we see what it says?”

Shifting her befuddled attention to the small rectangle, she gave a reluctant nod, the lock of blonde hair bouncing near her temple. “In my office, though.”

Because she wanted to protect his privacy, or because she did not want to chance a servant seeing her response? As stalwart as she had shown herself to be these past weeks, Zander still suspected the latter.

They strode in silence to her office.

Was she reliving their torrid kiss? For he sure the hell was.

Shoulders squared, chin up, she marched slightly ahead of him.

Why did it feel as though this was a march to the gallows?

Despite the somberness of the moment, Zander could not help but admire her composure and strength.

And the marvelous sway of her plump derriere.

A delectable derriere he yearned to smooth his hands over, preferably sans her clothing.

You are a hopeless libertine .

Part of Zander wanted to seize the letter and toss it into the fire, and another part could not wait to see what it said. He may not remember who he was, or if he was married, but by God, he absolutely knew that never had a woman had him at such sixes and sevens before.

Once inside Lilly’s office, she closed the door.

Rather than sit behind her desk, she sank onto the oak framed settee, covered in dark blue worsted wool.

She gestured to a nearby armchair.

“Please, make yourself comfortable, Zander.”

She had never taken on airs with him or any of the other staff.

Just another thing to raise her in his esteem.

Zander took a position near the unlit fireplace. Though the middle of October, to save on fuel, Lilly only permitted fires lit in occupied rooms.

Her diligent management and economizing ensured the continuation of the children’s home. Many formally trained men could not attain and maintain what she had. That spoke to her intellect, entrepreneurial spirit, and keen insight and perception.

“No, thank you.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “If you do not object, I would rather stand.”

“Not at all.” She cracked the seal and swiftly scanned the letter.

Did her shoulders slump the merest bit?

Clenching his teeth and clasping his hands until they grew numb, he braced himself for the worst.

“What does it say, Lilly?” he asked softly, taking care to keep any alarm or concern from his tone.

“Here. Read it for yourself.” She passed the less-than-crisp, travel-worn paper to Zander.

The Registrar’s Office of Cambridge University regrets to inform you

that, without the specific year of reference, it is not possible to definitively

identify which former students were awarded First Class Honors or held

the title of Second Wrangler. Our records are meticulously kept and

organized by academic year, and the distinctions of First Class Honors and

Second Wrangler are conferred annually to multiple students. Therefore, to

provide accurate information, we kindly request the relevant year or

additional details pertaining to the period in question.

“Not particularly helpful, is it?” Zander lifted his regard to meet her troubled gaze as he refolded the letter and passed it back to her.

Relief sluiced through him.

Shouldn’t he be a little upset at least?

His memory still had not returned.

He did not know who he was.

Yes, but he had this time with Lilly, and that mattered more than either of those critical details.

“No, it is not.” She presented her profile, gazing out the window. “So, it seems we are back to where we started. Now what?”