Hint of Desire (11 page)

If her uncle reacted like that how could she expect anything
different of Arthur? No, she would rejoice in her month of freedom and then return to Marclyffe. She would give no hint that she was anything but a grieving widow.

She
glanced through her lashes at Arthur, who lounged awkwardly on the settee, his broad frame disproportionate on the delicately framed piece. He stared at her with hooded eyes. A fresh waft of steam from the teapot by her elbow drew Lily’s attention. A cup had been poured for her. With hands that quivered only slightly, she brought it to her lips. It took all of her concentration to hold it still enough to drink.

“Are you going to tell me
the meaning of that scene we just played?” The question hung in the air.

“I
wasn’t ready to return to Marclyffe.” Good. That sounded calm and collected.

“Is there a reason?”

Her mind filled with the cruel memories. She had not known a moment of joy in that house. Of course she didn’t want to return, but she could not say that. It would only bring further questions, questions she did not want asked.

Again she remembered
her wedding ring hanging in the air, caught in the sunlight. What did St. Aubin know? Was she already lost? Was he even now fetching the law? Why had he not done so already?

H
olding her head as straight as she could manage, and looking calmly into Arthur’s eyes, hoping he would take her words as spoken, she answered simply, “My husband died there. My memories are not pleasant.”

“Surely you can look beyond his death to the life you led there previously.”

She could. That was the problem. She needed to say something else. “My husband was not always kind. My memories are not all warm.” That was the truth if a trifle understated.

“Not a kind
man.” Arthur gave a harsh little laugh. Lily could almost see him distancing himself from her. “I am not a kind man myself. I was raised to power, not kindness. You are being foolish.”

Lily
stared at her lap and felt her hope ebbing. He would send her back, she would not have her month of freedom, her month to plan a greater escape. She had heard the old duke’s voice reverberating through Arthur’s and knew his mind was set.

“It really doesn’t matter, though,” Arthur added. “I gave into my own foolishness and told St. Aubin you needed a month before you could travel even as far as Marclyffe, and I am not a going to change that now. I suggest you use that time to prepare to return to your home, Lady Worthington.”

“Oh, call me Lily
. I can’t bear the other.”

Arthur kept his face turned towards the window
, ignoring her. Lily didn’t think he’d glanced at her even once as he said the words that sealed her fate. His voice stayed flat and steady.

“I realize now that you
are still overly emotional. I am afraid that losing your husband and having been attacked so brutally must have left you shaken, and, perhaps, it is difficult to accept – even to believe – your sudden change of circumstances. That is understandable. It is why you seem frightened now, yes, I am sure that explains why you’ve seemed so unexpectedly calm and peaceful these last days. Your emotions are still not settled. That is the explanation.” Arthur’s voice faded at the end and Lily was not sure the words were meant for her ears. He looked stiff enough to break.

For the first time he turned to face her
. His face showed an absolute lack of emotion or feeling. “I’ll have Jeffers make the arrangements for you to stay for the month.”

Then
Arthur pivoted on his heel and left the room.

Arthur paused on the other side of the door, resisting the urge to collapse against it.

For a moment, h
e’d felt himself a hero as he stood at the base of the stairs. He would protect her from the flashes of fear he’d seen reflected in her eyes.

But,
protect her from what? St. Aubin appeared pleasant enough. He could not remember ever hearing poorly of the man. There was no logical reason to prevent her departure, and he would not tolerate a breech in logic. He had reacted on instinct in arranging for her to stay the month. It went against everything he had been taught. He was not a man of impulse, driven by physical needs.

If h
e examined the situation with cold sagacity there was only one reasonable conclusion. He had no rights, no place. St. Aubin was the one with standing. There was only one thing to do.

He knew she’d thought him cold to
announce so calmly that she must return to Marclyffe, but it was the only possible solution. He had given in to momentary whimsy in allowing her to stay further. He would not indulge himself further.

What Lily had not seen was
that standing there, staring out the window, without seeing, he’d felt an unsettling urge to tell her she could stay forever.

Blast
. This is what came from giving in to emotion, from starting to care.

Chapter Six

“Oh, my lady, what happened to your hand? However did you manage to get those bruises? They look almost like fingerprints. But that’s too silly of me. You must have bumped something. Don’t think I don’t see how tired you get staying up at night to care for the babe. I don’t know why Nanny lets you. And his grace should really be taking better care of you, too. Now, hush love, don’t shake like that. I’ll go get some gloves and nobody will ever know. You’ll need to take them off to eat, but perhaps nobody will notice. Don’t worry I’ll have you looking fresh and pretty in no time. That’s what Gertrude’s for; yes, that’s what Gertrude’s for. If my mum told me once, she told me a hundred times. ‘Gertrude, you never tell a lady when she has a flaw. You just fix it.’  Yes, that’s what I should have done.

“Now where can I get
you gloves? I know you don’t have any fine ones. I’d get some from the attics, but there’s not time to freshen them. Never mind that, I think Elise, she’s the new chambermaid, she got something pretty from the tinker last time he came by. Nothing fancy, mind you. But I think they’ll do. Let me just run off and check.”

With a flurry of petticoats
Gertrude left, and Lily could finally draw a breath of her own. She’d never realized how exhausting it could be to listen to somebody else talk.

A wan face peered back at her from the mirror
. Her eyes looked large and damp, and the end of her nose shone red and swollen. No other color marked her face; even her lips were slightly gray. The dark marks that Gertrude had mentioned marked her palm. Had St. Aubin’s grasp been that hard? She couldn’t remember. He must not have realized. She pinched her cheeks, trying to draw color, before letting her hands fall listless into her lap. It didn’t matter. In a few weeks she would be on her way back to Marclyffe, far from giggling maids who, in other circumstances, could almost have made her feel young.

Still, there was nothing to fear
. Worthington was gone and nobody knew the truth. Everything would be fine, she just needed to keep telling herself that.

The door opened again.

“Do you have time for the young mister? He’s begun to squawk and let me know he wants his belly filled.” Nanny hustled in, a squirming Simon on her shoulder.

“Of course.
” Lily took her baby and let his warmth seep into her. She breathed his fresh talcum scent and rubbed his head under her chin, savoring in its soft down.

“I hear
that your husband’s brother came to visit.”

Lily looked up from the baby
. “Yes, St. Aubin called.”

“I hadn’t realized that you’d married Worthington
. Your family name was never mentioned. Servants gossip. I’ve heard stories about him. It doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“
Not pleasant.” Lily gave a humorless titter, upsetting the baby who protested mildly before settling. “It certainly could never have been described as pleasant.”

Nanny moved behind her and picked up the brush Gertrude had abandoned
. She tapped it once on her palm and then ran it through Lily’s locks. Lily bent her head back at the unexpected comfort.

“
If my lady should care to unburden herself, I will keep a confidence or two.”

Lily glanced through the mirror into Nanny’s understanding ey
es. She sucked in a breath. Temptation. Even the thought of spilling her secrets brought relief.

“
It wasn’t bad. I learned to be invisible. Sometimes I began to wonder if I really existed.”

Nanny continued to run the brush through her long hair
. She paused in her brushing, holding a single strand still. Then she spoke, “You always were good at being a silent mouse.”

They were both quiet then
. Lily wanted to say more, but fought the urge. She leaned her head back into Nanny’s brushing, relishing the small luxury.

“And
Westlake wants me to go back. I know Worthington’s gone, but still the memories . . .”

“Did you tell him everything
? If he knew who you are, what you have been through, I can’t believe my boy would –”

“No, he mustn’t know
. I cannot tell him everything – how it ended. I don’t know why you haven’t told him yet, about my being here before, about who my mother was, but he can’t know now.”

“It was not my place to tell him, but if you’d give
his grace a chance . . . .”

“No, I’ve lied to him so much, I fear
his knowing how much deeper was my deception would only – well, he doesn’t’ trust me now; he knows I’ve lied to him. Why would learning more of the truth change his mind? He told me once, all those years ago, that nothing was more important than family honor and obedience. Why should I suppose he’d believe differently now? I cannot let Simon’s future rest on a man I know longer know.”

Nanny exhaled
deeply as she continued to run the brush through Lily’s hair. “I still think if you told him that –”

“I’ve got
them.” Gertrude burst in to the room. “They’re not the perfect shade for that dress, but I can make it do. Oh. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Gertrude hesitated in the doorway.

Nanny put the brush down on the dressing table. “It’s time for me to get this little lad back to the nursery. I’ll settle him and then Sally can watch him while I eat. We’ll have a most pleasant evening, and so should you. We can talk more later.”

Taking Simon from Lily’s arms
, Nanny walked to the door. She turned and looked back at Lily. “He’s a good man. Give him time and he’ll do what’s right.”

After Nanny left Gertrude fluttered around the room for a moment as if unable to settle
. Lily looked at her in question.

“Some man’s been asking the other maids about you,” Gertrude
finally spit out. “He wants to know what time his grace arrived here with you after the baby was born.”

Lily froze, staring down at her hands
. “Do you know who he is?”

“No, but Elise thought h
e might work for Sir Drake who’s the newly appointed Magistrate.”

Lily fought to show no reaction
. Nobody could know how those words cut into her. “It’s not surprising. I am sure they are required to look into Worthington’s death – to find his attackers. Come now and help with my hair.”

Gertrude was immediately all bustle
. “We do want you look pretty. I’ll curl your hair so it frames your face and draws attention up and away from that plain dress. Oh, this does look pretty. You really do have the most lovely hair. It has such a nice curl and it stays however I brush it. Have you put lemon juice in it? I bet it would bring that bit of gold out even more. I’ve never seen such a golden shimmer in such dark hair.”

Lily just let the words
flow by her. It was so much easier to listen passively to the ceaseless prattle than to think and participate. The magistrate. Why was he asking about her? Just stay calm, nobody could know the truth. She closed her eyes against the image St. Aubin and a golden room gleaming in the air. She could not give in to Nanny’s advice. She could not afford to trust.

Each
question would lead to another, and on to those questions she could not answer with out betraying herself, and Simon.

Reaching up
, she pulled a loose a curl. She pasted a smile on her face, and with a last “thank you” to Gertrude, proceeded downstairs to dinner. She would not let Arthur see her distress.

“Of course, you were right. She has to go back. Don’t see what other choice is open to you. It’s not like you have a relationship with the girl. She’ll be much happier once she’s settled with St. Aubin. He’s a good looking man. Pity he’s her brother-in-law or you never know . . . not a bad idea that.”

It was on those words Lily entered the dining room and found herself facing the thinnest,
stiffest, most pinched lady she could ever remember seeing. The woman turned and stared back. Lily could feel the evaluation taking place. She could only hope that none of inner torment showed.