Stolen Kisses (28 page)

“And I intend to keep it that way.” He looked over at her, then unexpectedly reached out to take her hand in his. “You’ll be a good, dutiful wife, won’t you?”

“Of course, Your Grace.” She smiled agreeably, the skin of her hand crawling where he touched it.

“You are beautiful,” he said almost grudgingly, running his fingers across hers. “My uncle was right about that, anyway.”

“You and your uncle discussed me?” Lilith encouraged him to continue.

“My uncle was obsessed with possessing you, and with getting sons on you.” Dolph smiled. “A task I look forward to, myself, I must admit.”

“Then we can have an amicable relationship,” Lilith declared, keeping the naive smile plastered on her face while another jolt of horror went through her.

“Amicable as long as you prove yourself worthy of being the Duchess of Wenford,” he commented. His fingers crept slowly up her bare arm, like a spider stalking a trapped insect. “No fits of temper, no hysterics, no rebellions.”

“Is that why you asked me out here? To set the rules by which I may become your bride?” Lilith tried to extricate her hand, but couldn’t do so without a struggle. “I assure you, this is what my family wants. I will not go against their wishes.”

“And what about Dansbury’s wishes?”

“I know nothing of them.” Lilith took a breath and leaned closer into his embrace, wondering at her own boldness. “I do think it’s clever that you’ve managed to outsmart him. My brother says no one even speaks to him any longer.”

Dolph turned his gaze toward the nearest of their fellow picnickers. Abruptly his open palm caught Lilith across the cheek in a stingingly hard slap. She blinked, stunned, while he tightened his grip on her arm and jerked her closer.

“Don’t try your games on me, girl,” he hissed, his eyes hard and ugly. “I don’t know what you think you know, and I don’t care. But don’t doubt that I can and will ruin you, or that I have enough evidence to get Jack Faraday hanged.” He smiled grimly. “And if that doesn’t work, finding an enemy to finish the task will be easy enough.”

“Let me go!” Lilith cried, trying to wrench her arm
free. Jack had said Dolph abused his female staff, but she had never thought he would dare strike
her
. No one had ever hit her before! And even more horrifying was the thought that if he felt free to hit her now, nothing would stop him from doing worse once they were married. But they would
not
be married. If she’d had any doubts on that count at all, Dolph had just answered them.

“Do you understand me?” the duke murmured, pulling her closer still, so that her face was only a few inches from his.

“I will not marry you!”

He shook her harder. “Be grateful I chose marriage for you.” Dolph grabbed her chin and then shoved her face away. “There are other alternatives. Understand, my dear?”

“Yes,” she rasped, shuddering. Killing her, or Jack, would be nothing to a man who’d murdered his own kin.

“Then sit quietly and finish your luncheon,” he ordered, and abruptly released her.

“Never touch me again!” She moved farther away from him.

“I’ll touch you whenever I please, and you’ll thank me for preserving your reputation,” he returned.

“I’ll thank you for taking me home.”

“I thought you were anxious to become the Duchess of Wenford,” he said mildly, as though he hadn’t just hit and threatened her. “Unless you were lying again.” He held out the Madeira.

Her fingers shaking a little, she accepted the glass and stopped herself from throwing the contents into his face. “I was not lying,” she lied.

He actually laughed. “I know you, Lilith,” he said. “I know how important it is that you make a match
according to your father’s wishes.” His smile broadened. “You have the look of a duchess, and I can’t wait to get between your legs and teach you about being a woman. So behave yourself, and we’ll both have what we want.”

A few weeks ago Lilith would have been shocked and embarrassed at his words. As it was, what he’d said only made her more angry. He was right about her—or at least, he
had
been right, before she had met Jack.

Dolph was ignoring her, calmly eating his luncheon and humming a waltz. She glanced sideways at him.
He had actually dared to strike her
. As far as the rest of the
ton
was concerned, the new Duke of Wenford was the epitome of propriety and grace. This was the Dolph Remdale the rest of the peerage had never seen. This was the Dolph Remdale who had killed his uncle to keep from losing the inheritance. And this was the Dolph Remdale she had to stop before he was able to get Jack Faraday and herself killed. Or worse.

She jumped whenever he moved, but the duke seemed satisfied that she had been sufficiently intimidated. His mood became increasingly lighter, and Lilith began to wonder whether he was truly a monster, or whether he was as mad as his uncle had been. Neither supposition was reassuring.

Unable to choke down more than a few mouthfuls, she was relieved when Dolph motioned for his driver to bring up the barouche. The man silently gathered the remains of their lunch together, his avoidance of her gaze the only sign that he might have witnessed his employer’s misbehavior.

Lilith was silent on the ride back to London, and thankfully, Dolph seemed content to sit back and watch her. The morning had not gone remotely as she’d hoped in all of her stupid self-confidence. She wanted to see
Jack with a wild yearning so intense it was almost frightening. She’d never thought to have the opportunity to fall in love and had resigned herself to a friendship with the husband her father chose for her. Now she was beginning to think that living without the Marquis of Dansbury would be worse than death.

As they entered Mayfair, Wenford sat up straighter. “Join me, my dear.” He smiled and gestured at the seat beside him.

“And if I don’t?”

He glanced down at his pocket watch. “Then I will become angry.”

While little shivers of dread and hatred went down her spine, Lilith gingerly stood and turned around to sit beside him. She shifted as close to the corner of the carriage as she could, putting as much distance as possible between herself and Dolph. As they turned into the Benton House drive, her father emerged from the entryway and came down the steps to greet them. Lilith wanted to jump from the carriage and flee into the house, but she forced herself to remain seated while Dolph stepped down to greet her father. After a moment he turned with a smile to offer her his hand. With an angry, frustrated sigh, she allowed him to help her to the ground.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said, unable to summon a smile in response to his bright one. She knew the game he was playing, but doubted her father would care. If he ever heard what had happened, it was more likely he would blame her for behaving improperly.

“A delight, Miss Benton. Or should I say, Lilith?”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

“Wonderful.” Lord Hamble beamed, taking her hand and patting it between his own. “Wonderful.”

“Excuse me.” Lilith freed her fingers and backed toward the door.

“I’ll see you soon, Lilith,” Dolph called after her.

She escaped into the house, where Bevins took her shawl. “Is William about?” she asked, beginning to shake.

“I believe he is in the stables, my lady.”

“Thank you.”

Fighting the sudden urge to cry, Lilith hurried out to the stables. William stood watching as Milgrew groomed Thor, and Lilith stopped at her brother’s elbow. “William?”

“Lil,” he said, turning and granting her a grin. “How was your picnic? His new Grace didn’t bore you into slumber, I hope.”

She shook her head tightly, glancing at Milgrew. The groom met her gaze, then cleared his throat and went back to brushing the big stallion.

“William, I need you to do something for me.”

“I’m meeting Ernest Landon for billiards at Boodles,” he said, motioning Milgrew to continue when the groom paused again.

“I need to see Jack,” she blurted abruptly, flushing.

“Jack?” he returned, lifting an eyebrow. “Look, Lil. I know His Grace don’t like Dansbury, but you don’t really believe Jack murdered old Wenford, do you? Just leave it be.”

“You don’t understand, William.
I need to see Jack
.” Her voice shook, and she couldn’t help the tear that ran down one cheek.

William stepped toward her, his expression immediately becoming concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Please, William. Just go tell him I need to see him, and let me know what he says.”

“Father’ll kill me if I go near Dansbury. And you, as well.”

“It’s important,” she pressed, her voice breaking and tears flowing freely down her face. She clutched her brother’s arm tightly, willing him to show some sense just this one time.

“Master William,” Milgrew said, straightening, “I’ll get his lordship, if you’d like.”

William glanced at the groom, then returned his gaze to his sister. “That’s not necessary,” he said slowly, his eyes searching hers. “But it may take me a bit of work to find him.”

She nodded, acute relief flooding through her. “Thank you.”

Immediately Milgrew retrieved her brother’s tack and went to work saddling Thor. William continued to watch her, curiosity and speculation on his face, while Lilith tried to pull herself together enough to return to the house. It would never do if her father or Aunt Eugenia saw her like this. They would never understand, never sympathize, and certainly never help her.

Finally Milgrew stepped back and handed William up into the saddle. Her brother pulled Thor around, then hesitated. “Lil?”

“I’ll explain later, William,” she said. “I promise.”

He nodded. “All right. I’ll be back soon.”

She watched him out the door, hugging herself and trying to stop shaking. Milgrew gathered up his grooming brushes into their box, then returned to stand beside her. “You all right, lass?” he asked quietly.

“I will be,” she answered in the same tone.

“Master William’ll find the marquis. Don’t you worry.”

She smiled and wiped at her face. “Thank you, Milgrew. I hope so.”

Jack was beginning to become considerably aggravated. His butler had been gone for the better part of a day, and then had sent a note that he was headed for Gloucester and would send further word as soon as he had any. So Jack had gone prowling, looking for any friend of Wenford in whom the duke might have confided. Unfortunately, it seemed more likely that he would be turned away from clubs where in the past he had been a favorite, than that he would actually find someone, friend or enemy, willing to speak to him.

It had been this way before, when he had first returned from France with the rumors of his killing a woman running through the gilded halls of Mayfair. Back then, he had buried himself in his black reputation, making certain everyone knew that he had earned it, and that he welcomed it. He’d nearly managed to convince himself that he did enjoy it. Until he’d met Lil. Now, all he could think of was that if he couldn’t correct things, he would never have her.

He finally tracked down Donald Marley at the Navy Club, and with a stifled sigh of relief, took a seat beside him in one of the chairs clustered around the large, soot-blackened fireplace. Dolph Remdale’s closest crony was occupied with reading the
London Times
and smoking a cigar, and it was a moment before Jack’s calculated fidgeting caught his attention.

“Dansbury,” he said, lowering the paper, a look of surprised dismay crossing his features.

“Marley,” Jack acknowledged in the same tone.

Marley stared at him for a moment, then folded up the section of the paper he’d been reading. “If you’ll excuse me,” he muttered, and stood.

“You certain it’s me you don’t want to be seen
with?” Jack asked offhandedly, sitting back and crossing his legs at the ankles.

“Yes, I believe I am,” Donald Marley returned, glancing back at him.

“A second poor choice.”

“And what was the first poor choice, pray tell?”

At least Marley had stopped his retreat. “Becoming acquainted with Dolph Remdale.”

“I’d have to disagree with you, Dansbury. And considering what Antonia St. Gerard’s done for you, perhaps
you
should be the one concerned with whom you become acquainted.”

Alarm bells began going off in Jack’s head, and he frowned. “Antonia?” he repeated. It seemed his troubles hadn’t yet finished accumulating.

Marley nodded. “Still only rumors, of course, but I hear she’s gone to swear out a statement against you. Says you told her you were looking for information about Lilith Benton, and that you deliberately won Dolph’s pin to encourage a break between him and his uncle.”

For a moment Jack sat silently, his gaze on his hands. He’d underestimated Antonia. When he’d discouraged William from seeing her, he’d expected her to be angry. He hadn’t expected her to move to get him arrested. It didn’t make sense, for it certainly wouldn’t gain her William back. Jack pursed his lips. It only made sense if all she wanted was revenge.

“Well, you’d best run along, then,” he said, waving a hand at Marley. He needed to think. Rumors and accusations from a lifelong enemy were one thing. Antonia, though, was considered to be a friend—anything she said would be taken seriously.

Donald Marley was halfway through the door when he had to sidestep to avoid another man bursting into
the parlor. Jack straightened as William Benton looked about, saw him, and strode forward with a look of relief.

“Jack, thank God,” he muttered, dropping into the chair Donald Marley had just vacated.

The marquis looked at him. “Tell me, William, did you win or lose our little wager concerning Antonia?” He was unable to keep the anger and bitterness out of his voice, but William didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh, I lost. But we’ll worry about that later.” The boy looked about the room, then leaned closer. “Lilith sent me.”

Jack’s heart jolted. He had no idea how much William knew, and he certainly didn’t want to give away anything that hadn’t yet been discovered. “She did?” he asked, as mildly as he could.