Sapphires Are an Earl's Best Friend (13 page)

“But men—”

“Lie?” she offered. “No, no. I’m sure no man ever lied about one of his conquests.”

Andrew paced back and forth. He could not believe this. It was difficult to fathom. The Three Diamonds had fooled everyone.

Or had they? Did Fitzhugh and Pelham know the truth? Was that why they had no reservations about marrying the so-called courtesans? And then another thought occurred to him. If Lily was not a Cyprian, neither was Juliette. She had never been a courtesan. No wonder she never wanted him in her bed. He looked up and found Lily watching him, her mouth pursed. “I already know what you are going to ask. No, Juliette was no more a courtesan than I was. Whether she ever invited a man to her bed, I do not know. Our position gave us independence.” She gestured to the bed where they had been wrapped around each other a moment ago. “As you see.”

He did not want to believe it, but he knew it must be true. And so Lily really had no experience pleasuring a man. She had been used, at a very young age, by a man who left her, and had limited experience. And he’d expected her to behave as a fallen woman. He’d treated her—“I want you to leave.” She tossed his shirt to him, hitting him in the face. “Go now.”

“If I offended you earlier, I apologize. I did not know. I did not realize. Lily, I should have—” He gestured helplessly. There was so much he should have done differently. But he could make it up to her now. He could be tender with her. He could proceed slowly, reassure her, cherish her and the experience. He wanted to. Suddenly, he wanted that more than anything else.

“Please go,” she said, her face set in stone and her tone a perfect match.

“Lily.” He started for her, and she scooted back, holding her hand up defensively.

“Out! Now!”

“What the devil? What have I done?” But he was already pulling his shirt over his head. He would not stay if he was not wanted.

“Do you really not know? Can you really blame me for wanting you to leave after your first thought when I reveal my secret is of
her
?”

“No. Lily, she wasn’t my first thought.”

“So you did not think of Juliette? You did not try and piece together why she had never asked you to her bed?”

The fire crackled.

“At least you are honest,” she said with a sneer, but she looked close to tears. “I love Juliette,” she said. “She is my dearest friend and will always be. But right now, I hate her and you both. Out!”

Andrew did as she ordered.

***

Lily told herself it was for the best. An intimate relationship with Darlington would make what she had to do that much more difficult. She looked at her rumpled bed and at her clothing strewn about the floor in wanton disarray. How had it even come to this? She had walked in to find him in her chamber, reading her personal mail, and they had ended up—her mail!

She jumped to her feet and ran to the mantel. She snatched up the papers and pawed through them. There was the letter from Lady Sinclair and the accompanying report from the investigator she had hired. Thank God! She fed it to the fire and watched it burn. She turned over the last paper she held in her hand, expecting to see her letter to Fitzhugh. But the paper was blank. She stared at it, willing words to appear in her hand. And then she searched the mantel again, peered into the fire, turned over her clothing and her bedsheets.

But the letter to Fitzhugh was not in her room.

And that meant Darlington still had it.

Bastard!

Well, she could steal it back. Then it would be his word against hers. She need not feel any compunction about doing such a thing. After all, he had stolen it from her in the first place. And after he had stolen it, he had proceeded to seduce her—the scoundrel!

Oh, very well. She’d wanted to be seduced, so she could hardly fault him. She did not know why she should suffer such weakness when it came to him. Why could she not refuse him, when she had refused hundreds of other men who were equally handsome, wealthy, or charming?

Because
you
love
him.

No, she did not love him. She did not want to love him. She had put those feelings to rest—several times—and she refused to succumb again. He loved Juliette. He would always love Juliette, and even if, by some miracle, he came to love her, she would always be second to the one and only Juliette.

Lily reminded herself she was at Ravenscroft Castle for a reason, and that was what she needed to focus on. As soon as she had the evidence she sought, she could leave and forget all about Lord Darlington.

As she pulled on a night rail and climbed under her covers—alone—she tried not to think too much about what her life would be when she left Ravenscroft Castle. A return to life in London as The One Diamond? More likely The One Piece of Coal. Once word of her engagement was public, she was ruined. And did she really want to return to London? London was where her friends were, but it wasn’t any fun going to balls and routs without Juliette and Fallon. She knew she would always be welcome at Somerset, but it was in Hampshire. And lovely as the Earl and Countess of Sinclair were, it was rather uneventful there.

She could go abroad. The Foreign Office would love to send her to the Continent. That work would be exciting—and dangerous. But she questioned her skills as a spy in light of this most recent endeavor. Darlington seemed to have caught her at every turn. She had never claimed to be one of the Foreign Office’s best. She had her talents, interrogation and—like her father—good instincts. But this venture had taught her nothing if not that when she strayed too far from missions that capitalized on her strengths, she floundered.

At times like this, she wished she could see her father. Perhaps she might have benefitted from his experience. But as far as she knew, he was still living in London, and he must have known who she had become. She had never hidden her identity, only concealed some of the facts about her past. She was not difficult to find, and yet neither he nor her mother had sought her out. At times, she had hoped one of her sisters or her brother might have contacted her. Did they know why she had been sent away? Did they ever miss their little sister on Easter Day or when a new baby was baptized or one of them married?

She missed them, and never so much as on days when the weather was perfect and she strolled in the park, catching glimpses of ordinary families taking the air. She would always pause and watch as the children—not sons and daughters of peers, but common children as she and her siblings had been—kicked a ball or raced after ducks or joined hands to make a ring and then fall down. That had once been her life.

But her family had made a clean break, and she was truly alone in the world now. Once or twice she had spied on her brothers and sisters, on their little families. But seeing them so happy, so normal, hurt too much. Did they ever wonder what had become of her? Did they ever wish they could sit and have a cup of tea together, reminisce about their childhood games and pranks?

No, they had all forgotten her. She was the Countess of Charm now. Lily Dawson was only a memory.

With a sigh, she flopped back on the pillows and settled in for a long night. She would not sleep; that much she already knew. She was feeling too melancholy and too self-pitying. But she would hang herself before she tossed and turned all night, thinking of Darlington. And so she locked her hands behind her head and began to plan.

The next morning she stayed abed long after she knew the rest of the house was awake. The day had dawned bright and clear, and this was to her advantage. Outdoor amusements would be planned, leaving the house relatively empty. When she was certain her absence had been noted, she sent Anna to give her regrets. She had an awful megrim and would stay in bed. Anna had merely blinked at this directive. Undoubtedly, she was thinking that Lily had never before stayed in bed from a headache, but she kept her thoughts to herself. And that was why the girl kept her position.

Anna departed, and Lily lay in bed, feeling restless and impatient until finally the house quieted. She sent for Anna to help her dress, asking enough questions about the activities planned for the day that she felt comfortable with the window of time she had available.

“Lord Darlington went with them,” Anna said, as she pulled Lily’s hair back into a simple tail.

“Oh?” Lily said, feigning disinterest.

“They needed another male to even out the numbers.”

Lily frowned. “Who else stayed behind?”

“Lord Kwirley.”

“Ah.” That did not surprise Lily. The man had probably indulged too much the night before.

“He is still abed,” Anna said, as though confirming Lily’s suspicions.

“Thank you, Anna,” Lily said, rising to inspect Anna’s work in the cheval mirror. “It is a lovely day. Why do you not take a few hours to yourself? I imagine most of the other maids have gone with the party—a boating party, you said?”

“Thank you, madam.” Lily bobbed and departed.

Lily was practically right on her heels. She wanted to go to Darlington’s room, but if the party had recently set out, the maids would be in the family’s chambers, making beds and straightening up. That meant now was the ideal time to search the library.

She was not very good at picking locks, but she managed to gain access to the library and the duke’s desk. She had broken the lock on the desk out of her clumsiness, a matter which became all the more frustrating when she realized the locked drawer contained nothing useful for her purposes.

She left the library and stood in the grand entrance hall for a long, long moment. Was there nothing the duke was hiding, or had she missed some vital clue? She could search his room again. Her last search had been hasty and incomplete, but she could not be certain the maids were finished and had moved on to the guest chambers yet. That left the music room, dining room, saloon, various parlors…

The tapestry room? That room appeared the sole province of the family. Perhaps she should search there. She thought she remembered a small table or two inside. But would the duke really hide something tying him to Lucifer in a tapestry room? She had to search to be certain. She was rapidly running out of time and options. If she did not find something to implicate the duke soon, she would be called back to London. The duke might be smitten with her while she flirted and teased him here, but if they parted, she was under no illusion his interest would hold. She would lose the connection she had with him, and then the Foreign Office would have to start anew.

How many agents would die in the meantime? Even now one of Ravenscroft’s assassins might be targeting the Diamonds in the Rough. Could she ever again face Fallon if Fitzhugh was one of the agents murdered?

Lily set off for the tapestry room. She took several wrong turns, which was to her benefit, as she looked lost and confused when she encountered servants. Finally, she found the right corridor and started for the room she sought. But once outside, she paused. She could hear voices inside. Maids? No. It was a man’s voice and… there was something familiar about the woman’s voice.

She almost turned and retreated to her room, but then she heard the man’s words quite distinctly. “I can satisfy your appetite, little wench.” Kwirley. She knew all of his uninspiring innuendos.

There was a gasp then a small screech, and Lily did not hesitate. She lifted the latch and stumbled inside.

Kwirley turned to look at her, his body shielding the female he held in his clutches. Lily was perfectly aware she might have mistaken the scene, but she was willing to take that risk.

“Unhand her.”

“This does not concern you, Countess. Go charm someone else.”

“Let her go, my lord, or I will scream and alert the household.”

“Lady Lily.” The girl’s voice was breathless and her face pale as she peered around Kwirley’s shoulder.

Lily inhaled sharply at the sight of Darlington’s young sister. She mentally drove daggers into Kwirley’s eyes. “How could you?” she hissed. “Let her go, or the duke will hear of this and have your head for assault.”

Kwirley must have seen something in her eyes, because he released Lady Emma and took a step back. He dusted his hands together as though ridding himself of the lady’s touch. “We were only having a spot of fun, wench. No need to swish your skirts at me.”

“Out.” She pointed to the door. “And if you are smart, you will hie back to London and your wife now.”

He gave her a mocking bow and walked, unhurriedly, out of the room. Lady Emma’s legs buckled, and Lily rushed forward and guided her into a comfortable chair. “Are you harmed?” she asked. “Did he hurt you?”

“I am fine. I do not know why I am shaking.”

“It’s perfectly natural after you’ve had a fright. Shall I ring for your governess or a maid to bring tea?”

“No!” The girl grabbed her elbow before Lily could start for the bellpull. “No. Please. I do not want anyone to know of this.” She buried her face in her hands, and Lily could just make out the words, “I am to blame.”

Lily took the girl by the shoulders and ducked her head so she might speak to the poor child directly. “You are not to blame. Lady Emma, listen to me. You did nothing wrong.”

“You don’t understand,” the duke’s daughter said. Her shoulders were shaking now, indicating she was beginning to sob. “I encouraged him. He gave me compliments, and I was flattered. I agreed to meet him here. I knew I shouldn’t. I knew it was wrong, but he said I was pretty and—” Her words were lost in a heave of sobs.

Lily sighed. She well knew the power of an older man’s charms on a young, inexperienced girl.

“Your choice was unwise,” Lily admitted, “but that does not give him leave to insult you. Come. I’ll escort you back to your chambers.”

“You won’t tell anyone, will you, Lady Lily?”

“I’m not a lady.”

The girl blinked tear-stained eyes at her. “I thought you were a countess.”

“The title is… honorary. Lady Emma, I would like to keep your secret. The—”

The tapestry-room door swung open, and Darlington stood in the opening. His face was a mask of anger, and his arms were crossed over his chest as though he were a human barricade. “What secret are you discussing?”

Lady Emma gasped. “Andrew! Were you eavesdropping?”

He ignored his sister and kept his gaze on Lily. “Tell me what is going on.”

“No!” Emma cried.

“What the devil have you done to her?” Darlington demanded, stepping into the room.

Lily felt her anger rise. “I’ve done what you wouldn’t. I’ve protected her.”

“What rubbish is this?” He looked from Lily to his sister. “I would protect her with my life.”

Lily looked at Lady Emma. “He needs to know what occurred. You are not safe here. You should have been sent away before your father’s companions arrived.”

“No,” Lady Emma whispered. “Please do not tell him.”

“I will not. You will tell him. I shall wait outside.” Lily stepped outside the door and closed it, giving the brother and sister privacy. She did not try to listen, but she suspected even if she had, she would not have been able to hear anything. Emma was too distraught to speak loudly, and Darlington would have to strain to hear. Suddenly, the door opened, and Darlington emerged with his sister. He looked furious. Lady Emma did not even glance in her direction.

“Wait here,” Darlington directed. “Do not leave this room until I return.”

Lily did not particularly care for the way his finger jabbed in her face, but she made no comment and returned to the tapestry room. After what had almost happened to poor Lady Emma, she barely remembered why she had come to the tapestry room in the first place. When she did remember, she sighed, wishing, for once, she did not always have to play so many parts in life. But she had a mission, and now was the perfect opportunity to search the room.

She went to work quickly and efficiently, going from one decorative table to the other, looking for drawers or secret openings. She found none and decided to look behind the tapestries. What better place to hide a safe? She peered behind one, moving the heavy drape aside and grunting with the effort. It was almost too dark in the room for her to discern whether or not anything was behind the tapestry, but she ran a hand along the wall and felt no protrusions. When she emerged, Darlington was standing in the room, watching her.

Lily almost jumped. The man should have been a spy. He had an uncanny ability to move about without being detected.

“Is that why you came here? To search it?” he asked pointedly.

She saw no reason to lie. “Yes.”

“And that is why you claimed to have a megrim.”

“I wanted to be left behind.”

He shook his head. “I do not know what you are looking for, but you are not going to find it.”

Lily said nothing. She did not wish to invite further conversation on the topic.

“And yet,” he continued, “I am glad of your persistence and your ridiculous search—whatever it is for. You saved my sister from Lord Kwirley.”

“She told you what happened?”

“She tried, and I pieced most of it together.”

Lily saw his hands clench and open.

“I’m going to kill that bastard. How
dare
he lay one finger on her?”

“That sort of thing will do nothing to harm Kwirley’s reputation and everything to ruin your sister’s.”

Darlington stared at her, anger blazing in his dark eyes.

“You know the
ton
as well as I. No matter what the truth of the matter may be, Society will assume your sister behaved improperly. Even if you claim nothing untoward occurred between them, the old biddies with nothing better to do than sip scandal broth will whisper that Lady Emma is compromised.”

“So I do nothing?”

“You do what you should have done in the first place. Send Lady Emma away.”

She saw his jaw tighten with fury, and she knew she had overstepped. He was going to roar at her. To her surprise, he raked a hand through his hair, collapsed into a chair, and buried his face in his hands. He looked very much the twin of his younger sister in that moment. “I want to be angry at you, but I am to blame. I was consumed by my father’s romantic liaisons. I didn’t think of my responsibilities.”

“It was your father’s responsibility not to invite such men to the sanctuary of his home, but your father is concerned with his own pleasures at present. Is there somewhere you can send her until the house party has ended?”

“My sister Katherine will take her. She will probably appreciate a visit from her younger sister, and it will give Emma time with her niece and nephew.”

“Have her pack tonight and send her first thing in the morning.” She knelt beside him. “And do not blame yourself. There is enough blame to go around without you adding to it.”

He looked at her for a long time, so long that Lily began to feel her cheeks heat. Finally, he took her hand. She tried to pull away, but he would not release her. “There is something I want to say. Something I need to say after last night.”

“There’s nothing you have to say on that subject I care to hear.” She yanked her hand away and stood, starting for the door. She would have to return later and search the tapestry room then. Unfortunately, the other venue she needed to search, Darlington’s room, was also an impossibility at the moment as the earl had returned to the residence.

“It’s about Juliette,” he said to her back.

Her steps faltered. She did not want them to, but her legs went weak and her feet stumbled. She swallowed and straightened her back. “You’ve made your feelings about her quite clear.”

“Lily.”

She walked away before he could say anything further. She had been hurt enough. She would not allow him to drive the stake any deeper into her heart. Perhaps, with time, her feelings for him would fade. Until she could escape him and his house, she must limit their contact and conversation.

Lily would have liked to burrow under her covers, but she could not afford to be absent. She did not have the evidence she needed against the duke, and he might do or say something crucial. She spent the evening dining and drinking with the duke and his friends, trying to act her usual charming self, despite all the turmoil in her mind and heart. At dinner, she’d been seated across from Kwirley, and the viscount made a point of sneering at her. He almost seemed to want her to expose him. She ignored him and fawned over the duke. Ravenscroft, in turn, drank far more than he ate and was deeply in his cups by the time the men joined the ladies in the drawing room.

The duke came up behind her and pulled her roughly into his lap, whispering lascivious comments in her ear. She tittered and giggled as was expected, while inwardly cringing. At least the faux engagement would buy her time and keep her from having to blockade him from her bedchamber. If the hard length she felt against her backside was any indication, he could hardly wait to take her there.

At one point, still perched on the duke’s lap, she looked up and saw Darlington had entered. Her heart sank when she saw the disgusted look on his face. She deliberately looked away. The duke was her mission. She could not concern herself with Darlington’s assumptions and judgments. By the time she was finally able to escape the duke and retreat to her bedchamber, Darlington was gone. Relieved, she closed her door, searched her room to be certain she was alone, then with Anna’s help, readied herself for bed and climbed under the covers.

She fell into a deep sleep, where she dreamed a hammer pounded nails into her coffin. With a gasp, she bolted up and realized the pounding was not a hammer at all but someone at her door.

“Who is it?” she called out.

“Darlington.”

Lily shook her head in amazement. Was the man really such a loggerhead? “I do not wish to see you. Go away.”

“You will come to the library, or I will be back to drag you,” he promised. She heard his footsteps leading away, and she frowned.

If this was a ploy to seduce her, why had he knocked on the door? And why had he spoken from without, so other guests might hear?

And what was happening in the library?

Because she was curious, and because she had no doubt Darlington would return to drag her forcibly, as he’d threatened, she rose, donned a robe and slippers and, taking a lamp to guide her way, padded to the library.

She heard voices even before she reached the doors, and her sense of unease increased. When she stepped inside, she gasped in a breath. Darlington was watching her. He stood beside his steward, and the state of the men’s attire told her they had not yet been to bed. The butler, who looked as though he had been abed, and the housekeeper, who wore a robe and slippers like she, stood at the other end of the room, whispering quietly.

“Well,” Darlington said. “You are either a very good actress, or you are as surprised at this as we are.”

“What happened?” she asked, turning in a circle to survey the damage. Papers were strewn everywhere, books lay in teetering piles, the expensive chairs and couches were ripped open and the stuffing covered the floor, reminding her of a sheep shearing.

“We thought you might be able to tell us,” Darlington said. Even in the midst of this chaos, he drew her gaze. He was so handsome, and she couldn’t help but stare at the bronze skin of his throat where his cravat hung loose and his shirt was open. Glancing down a bit farther, she noted the tight trousers, made all the more scandalous because she knew what was under them now.

“I have been in bed. I assure you, I had nothing to do with this.” She glared at him, willing him to keep silent about what he had read in her letters.

“But you know who did.” Darlington’s gaze on her did not falter. She was angry with him for dragging her into this, but she could not afford to show it.

“Where is His Grace?” she asked. “Has he not been informed?”

“We are not able to rouse him, madam,” the steward said.

“I see.” She should have realized that would be the problem. The duke had drunk like a sailor tonight. Darlington was still looking at her expectantly, so she shrugged. “I do not know why I was wakened. I have nothing to contribute.”

Slowly, Darlington turned to the butler and housekeeper. Addressing them by name, he said, “Why don’t you retire? We will deal with the cleaning up in the morning.”

“Yes, my lord.” They left eagerly, and Lily imagined they were thinking about the work they would have to face in just a few hours.

“Perhaps you could attempt to rouse my father again,” Darlington said to the steward.

“Yes, my lord.” He left, and Lily turned to the door as well.

“I shall also retire.” She started for the exit.

“I do not think so,” Darlington said. “Tell me what you know.”

“Nothing, as I said.” She reached for the door handle.

“What about Lucifer?” he asked.

Her hand on the handle stilled. She closed her eyes, knowing to answer would involve her further, and feeling as though Darlington had a right to know. His home had been violated. “This incident is further proof he is nearby.” Ravenscroft had documents or papers, most likely pertaining to the Crown’s spies, and Lucifer wanted them.

“You will help me capture him,” Darlington said.

She turned to face him. “No. I want nothing to do with him.” She did not say capturing Lucifer was not her mission. Ravenscroft might be a threat in that he ordered men’s deaths, but Lucifer actually killed them. He was far more dangerous, and she was not equipped to deal with a murderer. Not out here by herself without any other agents to assist her. Darlington was capable of taking care of himself, but she was not certain how much of a match he was against a man like Lucifer. “I suggest you have footmen serve as perimeter guards for the time being.”