Kitabı oku: «Unlacing Lilly», sayfa 4

So he’d waited patiently in his coach across the street from the modiste. It had not mattered to him who came to fetch the frippery, only that whoever it was would lead him back to Miss O’Rourke’s home. And thus he would know where to find her when he was ready.

But this was even better. Miss O’Rourke herself had come to claim her gown. And better still, the storm had broken as his coach was following her home, and she was now alone and vulnerable—an opportunity not to be squandered. While he watched, she fished through her reticule to find a handkerchief to dab the rain from her face and the action dislodged a scrap of paper that fluttered to the ground without her noticing. He gave his driver instructions to wait, hopped down into the rain and crossed the street to the park at a run.

The storm did not let up, but rather increased in intensity. People scattered, running for protection or for the doorways of houses across the street. Even better. They’d be as good as alone. Her back was turned to him and he swept up the small scrap of paper and secreted it in his waistcoat pocket before speaking.

“Miss O’Rourke!”

She spun in his direction, looked momentarily pleased, then covered it quickly. He arrived beside her and removed his hat to shake the rain from the brim.

“Mr. Devlin,” she answered. She brushed the strands of wet hair peeking beneath her bonnet out of her eyes and gave him the tiniest of smiles. “Good heavens! You should not have gotten out of your coach. Now you are all wet.”

“A small price to pay to rescue a pretty girl.” He removed his jacket and made a canopy over her with his arms. “Come, I shall give you a ride home.”

“Oh, thank you, but no. My maid will be returning with an umbrella any moment. She would be terrified to find me gone.”

“We could watch for her along the way. Truly, an umbrella could not give you the protection of a coach.”

“Thank you again, but no. I would not like to do anything that could look improper. Perhaps when Nancy comes back, you could give us both a ride?”

Drat! He could not drag her across the street and toss her into his coach in broad daylight, even if it was in the middle of a drenching thunderstorm. “Properly chaperoned, you mean. Is that because you are to say your vows tomorrow?”

She looked down at her box she clutched to her chest, then back up at him. “Yes. We just heard this morning that the king has given his permission, if not his approval.”

“You look a bit disconcerted about that.”

“I…was not certain it would arrive in time. I really thought there would be a delay.”

“Did you want a delay? Are you having second thoughts, Miss O’Rourke?”

“No!” Her quick denial belied her words. “I mean, of course not. It will be lovely to be a marchioness, and then a duchess.”

She blushed. How charming. He could not resist teasing. “Ah, is that what you are looking forward to?”

A mutinous light filled her eyes. “But of course. How perfectly exquisite to have people defer to me, ape my words and actions, regard me with fear and awe. I cannot think of anything more divine. I would have to be mad to not want it, Mr. Devlin. Of course I want it.”

Tears welled in her eyes and she turned away. Good God! What was wrong with her? “Miss O’Rourke, are you quite all right?”

“Yes!” She gasped and looked at him with a horrified expression. He would wager she had not meant to say any of that aloud, let alone to have betrayed her misgivings.

Devlin chuckled. “If you say so. Just as well that you are not having second thoughts, though. With everything set for tomorrow, it would be a shame to delay or cancel.”

She nodded. “I shan’t. I cannot speak for Olney or his family.”

“He’d be mad to let one more day pass with you not his wife.”

She looked up at him and he was drawn into the raw emotion in her eyes—eyes as clear and seductive as a lazy summer afternoon. The rain had eased somewhat and Devlin slipped his jacket on before he cupped her chin, removed his handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and dabbed at her tears. She sighed and swayed toward him.

Unable to resist, he bent his head until his lips were mere inches away from hers. “You are too damned tempting, Miss O’Rourke.”

She did not move, did not even breathe. Then, as powerless to stop himself as he was to fly, he brushed his lips over hers and groaned. A quick jolt of desire shot through him. Damn! He had not meant for this to happen. He could ill afford any sentiment now. He released her and stepped back. “Olney is a lucky man. I hope he knows that.”

She blinked. “I…I think he would not feel so lucky if he had seen that.” She glanced around, but no one had noticed.

He cleared his throat. “I apologize for my familiarity. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, you shouldn’t. And I cannot believe…I allowed you that liberty.”

“Believe me, Miss O’Rourke, I am as surprised as you. Shall we forget it? I swear I shall never mention it again.”

She bobbed her head in agreement and glanced away. Her embarrassment was painfully obvious. “Where has Nancy got to?”

That question was concerning him, as well. She would be back soon, and Devlin did not want to give her any chance to ask questions or be able to describe him later. “I think we can safely assume that Nancy will wait for the worst of this to pass before she comes after you. I am afraid you shall have to come with me or wait beneath a dripping tree.”

“It is not necessary for you to wait with me, sir. There is nothing you can possibly do for me that I cannot do for myself.”

He could not help but grin at the wide opening she had left him. “Oh, I think there may be a few things.”

The remark was lost on her and she fussed with the box she’d been holding, straightening it and holding it closer.

“What do you have in the box that you are protecting so fiercely, Miss O’Rourke?”

She glanced down at the package she was now crushing against her chest. “My wedding gown.”

“Ah. I wager it is a stunning creation.”

She emitted an unladylike snort. “Are you coming to the wedding, Mr. Devlin?”

He nodded.

“You must tell me what you think of it.”

“At the first opportunity.” He glanced over his shoulder and sighed. The maid, still a block away, was returning with an umbrella. One last try. “Are you certain I cannot take you home, Miss O’Rourke? I hate to leave you alone out here in the weather.”

“I am certain,” she confirmed.

He put his hat on and took a step back. “Tomorrow, then.”

“Oh, I had forgot! I owe you for the ribbons, Mr. Devlin. Here, if you will hold my box, I shall get the sum from my reticule.”

“Never mind, Miss O’Rourke. I shall collect it from your new husband tomorrow. In full.”

Devlin stared at the piece of paper Jack dropped on his desk. The address, written in scrawled numbers, was vaguely familiar. It was also close to the park where he’d left Lillian O’Rourke earlier today.

“You’re certain?”

“No doubt. It appears he is her brother-in-law. Logical for him to take them in, under the circumstances.”

“Logical, but damned inconvenient,” Devlin murmured. “Too bad. I have no quarrel with the Hunter brothers but this will certainly start one.”

“This? What? Is it not time you told me what you are up to, Farrell?”

“It is not. In fact, I think it will be a greater benefit to you if you haven’t any idea what is afoot.”

“Your game is afoot, that much is clear.” Jack sat back in his chair and rocked on the rear legs. “But it is the nature of the game that troubles me. I begin to regret having any involvement in this at all. The Hunters are not ones a sane man would wish to cross. You’ve said you do not have a grudge with Miss O’Rourke, and that she is merely a means to an end, but I have misgivings as to the way you intend to use her.”

So did Devlin, but he merely regarded Jack with an even expression. He could not afford to give anything more away. Not that Jack could stop him if he knew the whole plan, but Devlin had no stomach for a quarrel with no purpose. Quite simply, there was no way to turn him back now.

Jack was studying him and Devlin could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. He was quick and could put clues together faster than anyone Devlin had ever known, but pray he did not put this scheme together.

Yes, there would be adjustments he would have to make, and consequences to pay, but that was unavoidable. It was the greater risk of failure that troubled him. His original plan had been straightforward, clean and sure to succeed, but now it was fraught with possible disaster. If he failed…well, he’d lose his life. To target so powerful a family as Rutherford’s was foolhardy. He’d known that from the beginning.

Apparently tired of waiting for Devlin to tell him more, Jack finally rocked forward in his chair and stood. He headed toward the door, shaking his head. “I’d appreciate it if you never mention my name or my involvement with this, Dev.”

“Done.” But he had one last chore for Jack, and he knew he could persuade him. He reached into his waistcoat pocket and withdrew the scrap of paper that had dropped from Miss O’Rourke’s reticule. Her list of things to do and items to fetch. It would be enough.

Fricke was a dab hand at such things. “Take this to Fricke, will you? He will know what to do with it.”

Jack came back for the paper and pushed it in his pocket. “A forger? Deeper and deeper,” he said in mock despair before he closed the door behind him.

Devlin stood and went to his window to look down on the teeming Whitechapel street. Especially after dark it swarmed with men seeking strong drink and an easy mark, and women seeking the same. This was not a place for the timid, and he wondered how Miss O’Rourke would have fared here. Most likely she’d have hidden in corners and avoided the citizens. She was far too well-bred to even understand the misery in such places.

He remembered her as she’d been this afternoon, a bit bedraggled from the storm, smelling of starch and wet straw bonnet. Even that could not douse the fire she’d kindled in his groin. She’d been so completely lovely, so blissfully unaware of her appeal, that he’d been tempted to tell her. But she’d have run from him, and rightly so. His intentions were about as far from honorable as they could be.

He was still a bit bemused by the brush of their lips. He could not call it a kiss, at least none like he’d had before. Their lips had barely met, and yet he’d felt a surge of heat he hadn’t experienced since his first time at fifteen years old when he’d lain with one of the prostitutes who had been a friend of his mother. In the countless encounters and women since, he’d never found anything remotely as exciting.

And, curse the luck, she was Andrew Hunter’s sister-in-law. Hunter was a man of his word, and he respected that. In fact, Hunter had intervened to keep Devlin out of gaol once. And Devlin had repaid the debt only a month ago by helping Andrew stop the brotherhood of sacrificial killers his brother James was now seeking. If he recalled correctly, Miss O’Rourke’s sister was to have been the last sacrifice, but Hunter had arrived in time to foil their plans and disband the treacherous group.

What a quagmire of conflicting loyalties he’d fallen into. Honor his friendship? Be the gentleman to Miss O’Rourke? Or achieve the very thing he’d lived for since his mother’s death twenty years ago?

He experienced a quick flash of sympathy for the O’Rourkes. They deserved a respite. They deserved a bit of peace.

They deserved better than they were going to get.

Yes, Devlin was the proverbial ill wind for Miss Lillian O’Rourke, and within twelve hours, her life would be changed forever.

Chapter Five

Lilly tucked a strand of hair beneath her ivory silk bonnet. She had trimmed it with fresh pink and white roses, praying that would draw attention away from the hideous wedding gown. Yes, it fit her perfectly, but the multiple bands of ruffles around the skirt combined with the flounce at her neckline and the ridiculous bows on her sleeves and down her back made her look as if a milliner’s shop had exploded on top of her. And the veil attached to the back of her bonnet was just too much. She could not wait for the wedding to be over so she could take the horrid thing off.

The murmur of voices from the church nave made her nervous since it was an indication of the growing crowd who’d come to witness the nuptials. She couldn’t see a thing since the vestry, an interior room, opened off a side passageway and had no windows and only one door. The minister would come in from an outside door just across from the vestry so he could enter the church and change unseen. He had already done so, leaving the vestry for Lilly’s use.

She glanced at the small clock on the console table beneath the oval mirror. Only a quarter of an hour before she would become the Marchioness of Olney. Her heart skipped a beat at that realization. Heavens, she only wanted it over.

A soft knock and a muffled, “Miss Lilly?” told her that her brother-in-law was outside. Was it already time to walk down the aisle? Her hands shook as she opened the door and let him in.

Andrew Hunter was ungodly handsome in his dark jacket and trousers. As he took off his hat, only the expression on his face betrayed his concern. “May I have a word with you, Miss Lilly?”

“Of course.” She stepped back to give him room to enter.

He shut the door behind him and looked uncomfortable. He studied her for a moment before he began.

“Miss Lilly, are you having second thoughts? Any misgivings at all?”

“N-no. Why would you think that, sir?”

“It would be natural at this point. And completely understandable.”

“The excitement…”

He nodded. “This must be a very…confusing time for you. I wanted to take this opportunity to assure you that there will always be a place for you at my home—Bella’s home. Whatever is to come, I will give you sanctuary.”

Sanctuary? Lilly studied Andrew’s dark eyes and wondered what he could be hinting at to warrant such an odd declaration. “Do you anticipate a problem, sir?”

He glanced down at his highly polished shoes. “I, ah, hardly know how to answer that, Miss Lilly. Anything can happen. Olney is a man who has varied and exotic interests. You are innocent of society and may take issue with…well, something.”

“What in heaven’s name are you trying to tell me? That you do not like Olney and would rather I did not marry him?”

He combed his fingers through his dark hair and frowned as if that were a complicated question to answer. “Until recently, Miss Lilly, I was shoulder to shoulder with him in interests. Just as anyone who cared for your sister would not have chosen me for her, I would not have chosen Olney for you. But Bella has proved to be my salvation, and if Olney is likewise inclined to change, then I would not stand in the way. If he is not…”

“If not? Then you would give me sanctuary from my lawful husband? Is this why you and Bella insisted that we move to your house?”

Andrew’s jaw tightened and he gripped her shoulders in his earnestness. “Lilly, try to understand. I wanted your family, including you, to have my protection should anything untoward occur.”

“Untoward?”

“Should you decide not to marry Olney after all. Or should you decide to leave him afterward.”

“What do you think he would do?”

She saw the defeat in his posture. “I can see that you are determined to proceed. I will respect your wishes, my dear. I will go inform Bella, and I’ll be back for you as soon as the last of Rutherford’s guests have arrived.”

Lilly frowned as he turned and opened the door. She was about to call him back and demand an explanation for his odd offer, but the Duchess of Rutherford was standing there with her hand raised to knock.

She pushed past Mr. Hunter carrying a small deep blue lacquer case with a jeweled clasp. “Oh! My goodness. I hope I am not interrupting. I must speak with Lillian immediately.”

“I was just leaving,” Andrew said with a stiff bow and a reassuring glance back at Lilly.

The door closed again and the duchess sighed heavily. “Well, as it appears this wedding is to go forward, I have come to do the proper thing.”

“The proper thing?” Lilly was bemused. She could not imagine what the duchess meant. This was certainly a day for out-of-the-ordinary behavior.

“It does not surprise me that you do not know of these things, Lillian. I believe we shall have quite a chore in bringing you up to snuff.”

Torn between embarrassment and indignation, Lilly bit her tongue. She did not want to quarrel with her future mother-in-law mere minutes before the vows.

The duchess put the lacquer case on the console table beside Lilly’s bouquet and turned Lilly to the mirror. “Does nothing occur to you, girl?”

She could see nothing in her reflection that needed fixing, except, perhaps, the duchess’s proximity. “Nothing,” she answered cheerfully.

“What would people say if you walked down the aisle like that?”

“Here comes Miss Lilly?”

“Do not be impertinent with me, chit!”

She sighed and reminded herself that she and Olney would be living at Rutherford House until they could find a suitable place of their own. It would be much better if she could find a way to be at peace with her.

She took a deep breath. “I apologize, your grace. I did not mean to upset you. But I really have no idea what is wrong. You designed the dress. You selected the modiste and milliner. You have made the preparations here at your own parish church and selected the refreshments for the reception following. I have only chosen the flowers. Are they not suitable?”

The duchess surveyed her bonnet and the bouquet with narrowed eyes. “They are nice enough, though I wish you had chosen something a bit more colorful. Something blue, perhaps.”

Lilly gritted her teeth. Had she chosen blue, the duchess would have wanted pink.

The duchess opened the lacquer box to reveal a stunningly elaborate necklace of flawless clear blue sapphires between two rows of smaller glittering diamonds. Lilly had never seen anything even remotely like it. Her astonishment must have shown, because the duchess smiled with satisfaction.

“Yes, I thought you might be impressed,” she said. “And there are earrings to go with it.”

“But…it is too much.”

“They are not a wedding gift, Lillian. They are the Rutherford Sapphires, the very best of the Rutherford collection. I have decided to loan them to you for this very special day. People will see them and recognize that you are one of us now. It is important that they believe we have approved of you.”

Believe they approved of her? Lilly smiled before she realized that the duke and duchess were only putting a good face on a poor choice. They did not approve of her, but they wanted their friends to believe they did. She nearly refused to wear the jewels, but she remained silent again as the duchess turned her back toward the mirror, lifted her veil out of the way and fastened the clasp of the stunning necklace at her nape. She had to remove her bonnet to attach the earrings, clusters of diamonds surrounding large sapphires.

She didn’t know what to say as she looked at herself in the mirror. She loved them. She hated them. She would wear them for Olney’s sake. “Th-thank you, your grace. I promise I will take good care of them.”

“See that you do. You and Olney will not be attending the reception as it would be improper of you to appear publicly for the next month, so I will expect you to return them before you leave the church. Rutherford or I shall come while you and Olney are signing your marriage lines afterward.”

“Yes, your grace. Of course.”

“Now I must return to Rutherford. We shall begin the wedding immediately after Rutherford’s brother arrives. I believe your brother-in-law is escorting you down the aisle?”

She nodded.

“Very well, then. And do not forget to pinch your cheeks before you leave the vestry. You need color, child.”

It was true. She’d gone quite pale. She turned away from her reflection and watched the door close.

Alone now in the small room, she shivered with a moment of panic. The next knock on that door would be her summons to walk down an aisle and then say two words that would forever tie her to a man she barely knew. Before she left this church, she would be Lillian Manlay, the Marchioness of Olney.

And with those two little words—I do—her whole life would become a lie. What she wanted would be hidden, what she thought would remain unspoken, what she said would have to be a polite evasion of truth, and what she felt would be denied. Her hands began to shake. Oh, dear Lord! Why had she not realized this before now? Could she do it? Could she commit her life to Olney, submit herself to him, knowing it was all a lie?

She lifted her massive bouquet from the console table and watched the delicate pink rose petals tremble as if in a wind. Then she remembered another pink rose, the single stem still fresh but now fully opened and lush, in a small vase on the dressing table in her room at Mr. Hunter’s house—the rose Mr. Devlin had given her at Covent Garden. At the moment she’d rather have that one rose given in honesty than her elaborate wedding bouquet as a symbol of the lie she was entering into.

That single rose…She’d held it to her lips this morning, remembering the brush of Mr. Devlin’s lips against hers. How could such a gesture cause her heart to skip and awaken such a sinful yearning for more? Certainly Olney’s forceful, almost brutish, kisses had evoked none of those forbidden desires. And if Olney was brutish in that much, would he be brutish in more?

The consummation loomed ahead. She had dismissed her misgivings before, preferring not to think of what was coming. And now she would finally know what he meant when he cast her hot glances and promised her an experience she would never forget. The sudden overwhelming urge to beg off washed over her and she fought it back, reminding herself over and over how much this marriage would mean to her family.

The next knock caught her unawares and she jumped. Mr. Hunter had come so soon? She tried to squeak out an invitation to come in, but her voice failed her. Instead, she reached out and opened the door herself.

“Mr. Devlin!”

He pushed his way in and closed the door. “Miss O’Rourke.” He surveyed her from the top of her bonnet to the tips of her slippers. His lips twitched and she couldn’t tell if he was amused or pleased. “You quite take my breath away.”

She tore her gaze away from his full, perfect lips—the ones she had just been thinking of. But he must have lost his way. “If you will go down the passageway and turn to your right, you will find the nave. I believe everyone is gathered there.”

He nodded. “I do not believe I will stay for the wedding, Miss O’Rourke.”

He was dressed in elegant formal clothes, as if he’d come for the event, but if he had not come for that, why was he here? “Your…your loan? But, as you can see, I do not have my reticule. Did you not say that you would collect from Olney?”

His lopsided smile almost undid her. “I shall. It is, in fact, the very reason I have come.”

“Then why are you here? I mean, in the vestry?”

He shrugged. “I am wondering if you are having second thoughts about walking down that aisle.”

“Heavens! What has gotten into everyone? Why is everyone asking that question? Have I done something to give people that impression?”

He laughed. “How many of us are having that same thought?”

“Aside from my sister, Mr. Hunter and you.”

“Hmm. Well, it may be that we are more perceptive than the others.”

“What is it that everyone is afraid of? Olney has been nothing but kind to me. He has stood by his proposal to me even when his parents were less than pleased. Does that not prove he loves me?”

“It proves that he wants you, Miss O’Rourke, and is willing to pay the price to have you. But it pleases me to hear how much he is looking forward to tonight.”

Heat scorched her cheeks and she was slightly dizzy. What possible interest could Mr. Devlin have in how much Olney wanted her? The way his gaze swept slowly up her body until he met her eyes was unsettling, to say the least. Not insulting, but far too familiar. Far too knowledgeable.

He walked in a circle around her and then stopped in front of her again. “As for the wedding dress, I confess it is quite unpleasant. You’d have done better to leave it in the rain yesterday.”

She laughed, surprised by his bald honesty. “I fear you and I are the only ones who think so, Mr. Devlin. I suppose I shall know what the general consensus is by the gasps of astonishment or murmurs of appreciation as I walk down the aisle.”

“I’d prepare for gasps, Miss O’Rourke.”

The faint strains of music carried to them, and Lilly knew Mr. Hunter would be coming for her momentarily. “You had better go now. The moment is at hand and my brother-in-law will be coming for me.”

“Yes, indeed. The moment is at hand.” He took a sealed envelope from the inside of his jacket and placed it on the console table, then reached out and ran his finger over the sapphire necklace at her throat, his finger leaving a wake of heat to contrast with the cold stones.

The gesture was uncomfortably familiar and she looked up into his eyes. They were somehow colder than before, and quite calculating. “I think you should go, sir.”

“I think we both should.”

His large hand circled her throat and she felt a moment of pressure behind her ear before darkness descended.

Devlin caught her before she fell. He lifted her so quickly that her bouquet was caught between them. He had to dip slightly to reach the knob and open the vestry door, then a quick peek into the passageway revealed that he had a clear path to the exterior door. From there, it was only a few steps to the street and his coach, an anonymous black hackney. He lifted Miss O’Rourke onto the seat, gathered the veil into the coach and got in opposite her. A quick rap on the roof set the driver off at a gallop.

He drew a deep sigh and resisted the impulse to look back and see if they were being pursued. Once Andrew Hunter found his sister-in-law missing, there would be no safe place for them in London.

He braced his boot on the opposite seat as a barrier to keep Miss O’Rourke from being tossed to the floor as they rounded a corner on two wheels. Her bonnet fell off, revealing the soft curls of her honey-blond hair secured with white ribbons. He leaned forward to brush one wayward strand back from her cheek and was surprised when it curled around his finger. The feel of the cool silken lengths beckoned him closer to smell her shampoo, a mixture of rain and faint meadow flowers. A womanly smell. No, more than that—a gentlewoman’s scent.

Devlin had never smelled anything quite like it. The women he’d lain with, who had fostered him after his mother’s death and who had since escaped Whitechapel or had been destroyed by the iniquity, had not had the luxury of baths and fine shampoos. They’d been lucky to find a sliver of soap. He inhaled deeply, savoring the clean wholesomeness so foreign to him. So foreign, in fact, to everything he had ever known of life.

His success with The Crown and Bear and his investments abroad had made him a wealthy man. He had a valet and fashionable clothes. He bathed and aped the manners of his betters. But that did not make him one of them. Nor did it make him acceptable to their women. Not a one of them who knew who he was, including Miss O’Rourke, would have stopped to glance at him if he’d been on fire. Here, this very moment, leaning over her and inhaling her scent, was the closest he’d ever been to a woman of Lillian O’Rourke’s class and quality.

Oh, yes, he rubbed elbows with their husbands nearly every night as they came to his part of town to gamble, drink and whore, but that was not the same. He catered to their sins, and they hated him for it. And hated him because they were afraid of him—afraid because he knew their secrets and afraid of what would happen if he exposed them. And now she, too, would hate him—for those and so many more reasons to come.

Devlin released that sun-burnished curl but remained bent over her, resting his forearms on his knees. He marveled at her flawless complexion and the faint variation of color from her cheeks, flushed with the heat of the summer afternoon, and the ivory smoothness of her forehead and chin. And how her dark lashes—those absurdly long lashes—lay in a perfect sweep against her cheeks. Her lips, bowed and plump, beckoned him and he grew relentlessly hard as he remembered how they’d felt brushing against his yesterday. But he hadn’t tasted them. Not yet. Would they be as tart as her words? Or as sweet as her smiles?

He did not know how long he remained thus, studying her, memorizing her, but he’d been unable to stop until the coach rocked as the driver got down and opened the door.

“There’s a special place in hell for me now,” Jack Higgins said, doffing the driver’s cap. “Kidnapping, for God’s sake! I do not know how I let you talk me into this.”

Devlin grinned at the man and sat back against the squabs. “I gather we’re well out of town.”

“Aye. A good piece. How’s the little miss?”

“She’ll be coming around before long.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you the rest of the way?”

“Wouldn’t want to put you in that position, Jack. If you’re asked, you’ll be able to say with complete honesty that you haven’t the faintest notion where I am.”

Jack heaved a deep sigh. “Considerate of you to attend my conscience. Don’t you think you ought to tie her up? If she wakes while you’re driving, she could try to jump out.”