A Season of Ruin (13 page)

Except there was no noose. Not anymore. She'd never accept his escort now, no matter what he said, for he'd say something entirely different the very next moment, and then where would she be? Standing alone in the middle of some ballroom, no doubt, while everyone whispered about her. She'd be there anyway, but at least this way she knew to expect it and could prepare herself.

“Lily? For pity's sake! You can't hide in there all night.”

Lily sighed. “Come in.”

No doubt Charlotte had come to see if she'd dressed for the evening, and wasn't hiding under her bedcovers. Or under her bed.

Charlotte sailed through the door, a vision in rose satin, her glossy hair swept on top of her head. Dainty little satin roses were woven in among the dark strands. “Oh, splendid. You're dressed.”

Lily raised an eyebrow. “I don't want to attend the ball, but I can't very well crawl out the window, Charlotte. Though it did occur to me.”

Charlotte tossed her head. “Oh, nonsense. It never occurred to
me
. You're made of sterner stuff than that. I did wonder if you'd plead the headache, though.”

“Oh, I do have the headache, but as my head is still
attached to my body, I don't imagine it will be sufficient to excuse me from the Chatsworths' ball.”

“Mother was rather insistent, was she not? But she's right, you know. You can't hide in the town house for the rest of the season.”

Lily turned back to the looking glass and frowned at her reflection. “I don't see why not.”

Charlotte plopped herself down on the stool next to Lily. “Shove over.” She wriggled her bottom until Lily made room. “You know perfectly well why not. Because everyone will assume you're guilty if you never show your face again.”

“They'll assume it anyway,” Lily shot back. “I'm surprised the Chatsworths didn't send over a footman to snatch the invitation right out of Lady Catherine's hand.”

Charlotte snorted. “Oh, nonsense. I've known Lizzy Chatsworth since we were in pinafores. She'd never dream of uninviting me, or you, for that matter, as you are my friend. The Chatsworths are good
ton
, but they also happen to be lovely people, as well.”

Lily met Charlotte's eyes in the mirror. “I've never heard of such a thing.”

She and Charlotte stared at each other in the glass for a moment, then the corner of Charlotte's mouth turned up in a slow grin.

She has Robyn's smile
.

The thought caused a strange pang at Lily's heart, and yet Charlotte's smile was just as contagious as his, and Lily couldn't help but grin back at her friend.

“It's lucky it's the Chatsworths tonight, you know. Everyone attends their ball. It's always a mad crush. We can slip in and then slip right back out again. Everyone will be so frantic to be seen themselves, they won't bother with us.”

Lily laid her brush down on the dressing table with a sigh. “Safety in numbers is better than nothing, I suppose, though I'd prefer anonymity.”

“Oh, you'll be safe enough. Archie's just sent round a note to say he'll meet us there.” Charlotte scooted off the edge of the stool. “Wait,” she added, pausing behind Lily, who still sat in front of the glass. “You forgot your combs.”

She slid one gold comb into Lily's coiffure, then turned Lily's head to the other side to place the second one.

Betsy beamed.

Charlotte stepped back to study the effect. “Yes. Perfect. I suppose you think to fade into the wallpaper with that dark-colored gown, Lily, but it won't work, you know. It's too flattering. Low-cut, as well.” She gave Charlotte an impish grin and swept out the door in a cloud of rose satin.

Lily trailed after her. Perhaps there was still time to change her gown? The yellow silk might be less conspicuous . . .

Once they'd reached the top of the stairs, however, every thought fled her head.

Robyn stood in the foyer below with Ellie and Lady Catherine. He was attired in black evening dress, his hair brushed back from his face, his white cravat gleaming against his bronze skin.

Lily caught her breath. Gold combs and low-cut gowns would be the least of her worries tonight.

Before she could reason it away, a feverish awareness flooded through her.

Goodness, he was handsome
.

But no sooner had that thought crossed her mind than Lily wanted to rip it from her head and hurl it down the stairs. He
was
handsome, and charming. She'd never known a more seductive man. Or a more dangerous one.

What was he doing here? She caught Ellie's eye as she made her way down the stairs, but Ellie gave a helpless shrug, as if she couldn't account for Robyn's presence this evening any more than Lily could.

Was this all some sort of game for him, or some joke at her expense? A few nights ago when she'd have been thrilled to have his escort, he hadn't bothered to turn up. Now she wanted him only to leave her in peace and here he was, devastating in his evening dress. The perfect gentleman.

The perfect escort.

Perhaps he found it amusing to see the
ton
toss her about
like a fish at the market? Well, she couldn't stop him. What could she do? Pound her fists against the floor and wail until he agreed not to accompany his family to the Chatsworths' ball?

Ellie came forward to take her hand as Lily reached the bottom stair. “Well, I feel quite eclipsed by you.” She gestured toward Lily's gown. “It fairly shimmers.”

Lily forced a smile at that, for the idea that Ellie could be eclipsed by
anyone
was laughable. She opened her mouth to say so when Robyn's low voice interrupted her. “You're stunning, Lily.”

He looked at her with a hint of that same ferocity she'd seen that morning in her bedchamber. Lily's heart hammered against her ribs. She needed more time to steel herself against him, and she wasn't prepared for either the look or the compliment.

Charlotte saved her from a reply, however. “Well? What about me?” She eyed her brother with mock petulance. “Don't I look stunning, too?”

Robyn laughed. “As ever, Charlotte. I won't be able to leave your side tonight, or the swains will carry you away.”

“Will they, indeed? Well, let's be off, then, for I wouldn't want to miss
that
.”

Lady Catherine raised a reproving eyebrow. “My goodness, Charlotte.” She took her youngest child firmly by the arm to lead her to the carriage.

Ellie and Lily followed, but before Lily could reach the door, Robyn stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I won't leave
your
side tonight, either,” he murmured, his lips far too close to her ear. “No matter how much you may wish me to.”

Lily's heart kicked in her chest again. “I wish you to even now.”

But the words, so firm, so final when she'd said them in her head, became low and breathy on her lips, an invitation instead of a warning.

He leaned closer still, so close his lips nearly touched her neck. He drew in a long, deep breath, and Lily had the oddest sensation he was sniffing her. “Yet here I will remain, all night, until you admit you need me. You
will
admit it, Lily.”

Lily closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing. “No. Archie will meet us at the ball. I don't need you, Robyn.”

He drew back slightly, but his fingers still held her arm. He repeated his words from that morning, but this time they sounded like a promise.
Or a threat.
“We'll see.”

It wasn't far to the Chatsworths' town house, but Lily's nerves were frayed to ribbons before they'd gone two blocks. She sat bolt upright in the carriage, her skirts tucked tightly around her legs, but even so, Robyn's hard thigh pressed against her hip, so close his pantaloons were awash in folds of bronze silk and she could smell the light, spicy scent of his shaving soap. By the time they reached their destination, her skin felt too tight for her body, a flock of wild birds seemed to have nested in her belly, and she was ready to leap out the carriage window.

“It's a crush,” Ellie said as they waited in the carriage queue.

Charlotte glanced out the window and smiled with satisfaction. “Yes. Just as I imagined it would be. You see, Lily?”

Lily stared out the window. Coaches were lined up three- and four-deep on both sides of the street, and the
ton
crowded the stairs and doorway of the Chatsworths' town house, a school of resplendent, silk-clad fish attempting to swim upstream against the current.

Her throat closed. “However will we find Archie in such a mad crush?”

Robyn shifted closer to her to see out the window. “What, you mean to say you didn't make an arrangement beforehand?”

Lily tried to move away from his thigh, but she was
pressed against the side of the carriage as it was. Robyn's mouth twitched at her movement, and he leaned so far over her, Lily feared he'd crawl right into her lap. “You'll have the devil of a time finding him, if he gets inside at all.”

He shook his head with regret, but his tone put Lily in mind of a child who'd stolen a sweet from his nurse's apron pocket. If she hadn't been certain even
he
couldn't pull off such a grand prank, she'd believe Robyn had arranged the entire scenario, right down to the squirming mass on the town house steps, all of whom were in a perfect position to gawk at her as she alighted from the carriage.

Lily's jaw set. The evening was bound to be a disaster anyway, so what did it matter if Archie was lost in the crowd, or if the misery she'd endured at Almack's paled to nothing in comparison to this? It didn't matter that Robyn's dizzying scent clung to her skin, or that his warm thigh felt like part of her body now, as if she'd grown a new appendage. She'd never admit she needed him.

Admit it? She'd never
need
him. Period.

She must not have looked as confident as she felt, however, for Lady Catherine leaned forward and touched her hand. “It's all right, dear. I'll alight first with Charlotte, and you and Eleanor will follow directly behind us. We'll clear a path through the crowd for you, and Robyn will come after us.”

The carriage jerked forward, then stopped abruptly. Miraculously, a place had opened just at the foot of the town house stairs, and their coachman had slid neatly into it. Lily sagged against her seat. Even the heavens had conspired against her.

The driver leapt from his perch, set the stairs, and opened the door to hand out Lady Catherine. Charlotte followed, then Ellie. Lily slid across the seat toward the door, but froze when she saw her friends were being jostled forward by the crowd. Eleanor turned around as if to go back to the carriage, but the ocean of bodies swept her up in their undertow.
Lily saw a look of despair cross Ellie's face as the crowd swallowed her.

Nausea roiled in Lily's stomach as she stared out the carriage window at the glittering, chattering crowd.
Oh, dear God
. She'd have to walk through alone, unless—

Robyn's voice was soft. “Take my arm, Lily.”

She felt his dark gaze on her, but she kept her eyes fixed on the open door of the carriage. She couldn't look at him; couldn't bear to see the triumph on his face.

Robyn's hand, warm even through his glove, settled on her neck. “Oh, no,” he murmured. “You
will
look at me.”

He slid his hand up her neck to her cheek to turn her head gently toward his, until she had no choice but to look at him. Lily's eyes slowly rose to meet his.

What she saw there, in those dark depths, stunned her.

There was no triumph—none of the gloating satisfaction she'd expected to see. His eyes burned with that same fierce heat she'd glimpsed in the morning. His gaze drifted over her face, lingered on her mouth, the perusal so intense it felt as though he'd run his fingers across her skin.

He lifted her gloved hand from where it rested on the seat and placed it on his arm, and then the street was beneath her feet.

It seemed as if the crowd on the stairs all turned as one to watch their approach. The faces blurred together, a tunnel of flashing jewels; open, leering mouths; and pointed teeth.
So many teeth.

A woman laughed, high-pitched and brittle, and a shiver darted down Lily's spine as the dark maze yawned open before her. With every breath, she disappeared deeper into its depths, yet no matter how many steps she took, she got no closer to the center. Soon the hedges would grow so high, she'd not be able to see over them, and then the pointed teeth would devour her.

“Relax, Lily,” Robyn murmured.

He'd said the very same thing during their waltz, and
she'd heeded him, as if she had no choice—as if she were fated to follow every one of Robyn's whispered commands. She'd done as he'd bade her, and with each turn of the dance she'd felt her worries whirl away from her. She'd got precious little else from that dance, but she'd had that one moment of perfect freedom.

What would it be like, to feel that free every day?

She looked up at Robyn, so tall and confident beside her. Several gentlemen called out greetings to him. He nodded casually back at them. His arm was relaxed beneath her fingertips, reassuringly solid, his gait loose and fluid, as if he hadn't a care in the world. As if the two of them weren't at this very moment being swallowed whole by a dark maze from which they might never emerge.

It dawned on her then, in a moment of extreme clarity, that Robyn
hadn't
a care in the world. The
ton
could believe every word of Mrs. Tittleton's slander. They could think him the worst kind of lecherous rake, and Robyn would never care enough to bat even one of his sinfully long eyelashes over it.

The realization came on an unexpected burst of admiration.

Oh, how glorious it must be, to care nothing for society's censure.

But then, on its heels came another, grimmer thought.

How terrible it must be,
to care for nothing at all
.

*   *   *

She'd ruined the sleeve of his coat.

Robyn glanced down at the crumpled folds of black superfine clutched in Lily's white fingers. Her face remained composed, her head high, but her eyes darted in every direction and her grip tightened with each step.

She did need him.
He hadn't any idea why it mattered so much, but it did.

He braced his arm under her fingers, and for the first time
since their argument that morning, the hollow feeling in his chest began to ease.

When they reached the entrance to the town house, however, she dropped his arm and began to turn away from him.

He grasped her wrist before she could take another step.

Did she think to just walk away from him now? He'd said he'd take care of her tonight, and this time he damn well meant to keep his promise.

She turned back to face him. “Let go of me, Robyn.”

“No. I don't think I will. I promised I'd stay by your side all night. What kind of man would I be if I didn't keep my promise?”

A shrill laugh prevented her from answering. A group of young ladies stood just at the entrance to the ballroom, watching them with wide eyes and ears perked like a pack of hounds tensed for the signal to begin the chase.

Lily glanced over at their spectators and bit her lip, as if she wasn't sure what to do next. Robyn watched her white teeth worry at her plump lower lip, and his good intentions vanished in an explosion of lust.

He should have spent more time on that lip in Lord Barrow's study. He should have run his tongue over it, then taken it into his mouth and sucked on it. He could spend hours tasting her lower lip, and hours more exploring the sweet bow of her upper lip. That bow maddened him. Try as he might, he couldn't forget how the sweet little dip had felt against his tongue.

“Stop this, Robyn.” Lily's low, fierce voice jerked him back to the present.

He raised his eyes from her lips. “Stop what?”

She had trouble catching her breath. “Whatever game you're playing with me, stop it. Don't . . . look at me like that.”

This last came out in a husky whisper.

Desire shot through his veins, hot and insistent. He'd gone as hard as steel for her the minute she appeared at the
top of the stairs in her bronze silk gown, and for the entire carriage ride he could think of nothing but her hip pressed against his thigh.

Don't look at her?
By the time they'd arrived at the Chatsworths' town house, he'd been ready to drag her across his lap until the insides of
both
her thighs pressed against him and he drowned in a deep pool of bronze silk.

One of the young ladies by the door laughed again.

Lily's shoulders tensed. “Charlotte's looking for us.”

Robyn glanced behind her into the ballroom. It was a crush, but he spotted his sister's rose-colored gown at once. Charlotte craned her neck to see over the heads surrounding her, trying to find Lily.

“They can wait,” he said.

“I will not keep Archie waiting. Not after he's been kind enough to help me.”