“You may release me, my lord,” she whispered hoarsely. “I am quite safe now.”
He gave a low, rough chuckle. “You truly think you are safe?”
Her throat went dry. “Please, Lord Claybourne…”
“Please what, Lily?” He spoke her name in a husky murmur as he bent his head to nuzzle her ear.
Her head jerked in alarm. “You cannot kiss me again!” she exclaimed, her voice high and breathless.
His exhalation was like a sigh. “I know. I would like nothing more than to climb back up there with you and spend the rest of the night showing you pleasure you’ve never dreamed of. But it wouldn’t be honorable of me to take advantage of you in this weakened state…and Marcus would have my head on a platter if I tried.”
Lily wasn’t certain Marcus would view his role as her protector quite so fiercely. He had never wanted to be saddled with responsibility for the three penniless Loring sisters, and he’d only been their guardian for a few months, since becoming the new Earl of Danvers. Moreover, Marcus no longer technically held the office of guardian now, since he had granted his three wards their legal and financial freedom when Arabella won her wager with him. Yet Lily thought it wiser not to express her doubts to Lord Claybourne.
“So he would,” she agreed unevenly.
Finally, after another moment, Claybourne stepped away from her, clearing a path to the stable door.
Grateful to be free, Lily let out the breath she’d been holding and quickly turned away from him. Without looking at him again, she hurried to the door. But then she came to an abrupt halt when she recalled what had driven her to the stable in the first place.
With reluctance, Lily glanced back over her shoulder, meeting his lordship’s darkly glimmering eyes. “You must promise me you won’t tell Lady Freemantle that I kissed you. If she knew, she would be planning our wedding.”
His expression was enigmatic, unreadable, even in the bright glow of latern light. And he hesitated far longer than expected before replying. “Very well, I won’t tell her.”
Managing a faint smile, Lily picked up her skirts and fled, chiding herself all the way back to the Hall. She should never have let Lord Claybourne kiss her, she knew that now. Not when he was so dangerous to her willpower.
But from now on, Lily vowed earnestly, she would make a concerted effort to avoid him.
She had no choice. For the first time in her life she had met a man who might prove to be irresistible. The wisest thing she could do now was to keep far, far away from the handsome, alluring, seductive Marquess of Claybourne.
Chapter Two
– Lily Loring to Fanny Irwin
After her departure, Heath remained in the stable for quite some time, waiting for his blood to cool before he could return to the ballroom. Sporting a raging arousal when he was wearing satin evening breeches would no doubt appall the refined sensibilities of the wedding guests.
Heath’s mouth curled in rueful amusement at the image, yet his smile soon faded.
He hadn’t meant to let things go so far with Lilian Loring. Before she’d stopped him, he had been in serious danger of compromising her. But he’d been seduced by the tempting fire of her. Now he could only blame himself if the forbidden indulgence had left him hot and painfully hard.
His attraction wasn’t the least surprising, Heath mused, even though he’d only met Lily this morning. For several months now his interest had been piqued by reports of the youngest Loring sister. He hadn’t been put off by Marcus’s accounts of her being a spitfire and a hellion. On the contrary. His usual pursuits had seemed so deadly dull of late that when he’d finally encountered the spirited, unconventional Lily, his interest had immediately been sparked.
Marcus was right; she was a lively beauty. She was certainly unique. And Heath had found himself unexpectedly enchanted.
Finally considering it safe enough, he left the stable, yet his thoughts were still centered on Lilian Loring as he crossed the yard and headed toward the Danvers Hall manor house.
She was as captivating as her elder sisters but wholly different. Her bold dark eyes and rich, dark-chestnut hair, in addition to her coltish grace, gave Lily a vividness that made her seem vibrant and alive.
She had marvelous eyes, Heath thought as he aimed for the rear terrace that flanked the ballroom. They were lustrous and expressive; warm and laughing one minute, indignant and defiant the next, heavy and slumberous when she was aroused.
She had a mouth like sin, as well. And he knew she would have a luscious body beneath that properly fashionable ball gown…
At the sudden memory of exploring her soft warm flesh with his searching fingertips, Heath felt a fresh rush of desire.
“Blast it, man,” he swore at himself as he mounted the terrace steps. “You’d best bridle your lust before you do something even more inappropriate with her.”
He sure as the devil couldn’t deny wanting Lily, though.
Yet admittedly, one of her prime attractions was her laughter. He’d first heard it this morning while waiting at the church with Marcus and Drew for the wedding party to arrive.
When she drove up in the open barouche with her sisters, her laughter had been warm and tender. Later, at the wedding breakfast, it was lilting and musical during her animated conversation with her friends, Fanny Irwin and Miss Tess Blanchard. And then a short while ago, husky and delighted when she was talking to the kittens.
Laughter was important to him. It had been a big part of his childhood-an essential part, the best part-before his mother died when he was ten. His friends, Marcus and Drew, had supplied the laughter since then, all during his boyhood when they’d attended Eton and then Oxford together, and for the past decade as adults. But now that Marcus had taken a wife, that would change to a significant extent-
Cutting off that dark thought, Heath returned to ruminating about Lily Loring as he crossed the terrace. It was only natural that he enjoyed her laughter. But he also liked her forthrightness.
In his experience such honesty was unusual when dealing with females of any stamp. After all the mincing and coy flirtations he’d been subjected to from grasping debutantes over the years, her frankness was profoundly refreshing.
Lily’s resistance to him, however, was wholly unexpected. He was not at all accustomed to female indifference. Bold seductions and relentless pursuit were the usual mode. As one of London’s most eligible aristocrats, Heath had been the target of countless scheming husband-hunters for well over a decade.
Surprisingly, his disinterest in marriage hadn’t stopped women from falling in love with him. Instead, they flocked to him, in large part because he knew how to satisfy their desires…
Of necessity Heath’s musings were brought to a halt when he entered the ballroom through one of the rear French doors, the same one he’d exited a half hour before. Almost at once a feminine voice called his name.
To his surprise, he saw Fanny Irwin approaching, as if she had been waiting for his reappearance.
Her expression did not look happy. “My Lord Claybourne,” Fanny said in a low voice that held a note of urgency. “Perhaps you would be so kind as to give me a moment of your time?”
“Of course, Miss Irwin-” he started to say when she cut him off.
“In
Although puzzled by her request, Heath had no objection to following her behind a bank of potted palms. He knew from Marcus that Fanny had been the Loring sisters’ close neighbor and dearest friend in Hampshire during their childhood. He also knew that she was once a respectable young lady who had left home at sixteen to become one of London’s most renowned courtesans. Her success now even rivaled the most fashionable Cyprian of them all, Harriet Wilson. Heath had never patronized Fanny, although he’d seen her at various entertainments they both attended.
The raven-haired, lush-figured Fanny was witty, beautiful, stimulating, and perceptive, and reportedly expert
