12. Lili
Lili
" L ili, you need to hide—quickly."
Edward's voice was urgent but gentle, his hand touching my shoulder protectively.
Through the window of the small bistro in Covent Garden, I could see exactly why he'd gone rigid with panic—Daphne's unmistakable silhouette approaching the entrance, her bright laugh carrying across the street as she chatted with someone on her phone.
My pulse spiked as I watched her animated gestures, the way she paused to check her reflection in the restaurant's window.
She was less than twenty feet away and closing the distance with every confident step.
I slid under the white tablecloth just as the restaurant door chimed, my heart hammering against my ribs like a caged bird.
The space beneath the table was cramped, the white tablecloth creating a cocoon that muffled sound and trapped the scent of Edward's cologne.
My knees pressed against the cold tile floor, and I had to bite my lip to keep from making any noise as the fabric brushed against my face with every shallow breath.
The texture of the starched linen was rough against my skin, and I could hear the clink of silverware from nearby tables, smell the rich aroma of garlic and wine drifting from the kitchen.
"Lady Daphne, " The ma?tre d's voice carried clearly across the small restaurant. "How lovely to see you again."
"Just picking up a takeaway order," Daphne replied, and I could hear the smile in her voice. "The most divine pasta from that new chef you hired."
I closed my eyes, willing myself to stay perfectly still as footsteps approached our general area. Edward's hand found mine under the table, his fingers intertwining with mine in a gesture that was both comforting and terrifying.
If Daphne caught us like this—hiding under furniture like guilty teenagers—there would be no explaining it away. Edward specifically asked the staff to not tell anyone that we were here.
"Edward?" Daphne's voice was suddenly much closer, surprise evident in her tone. "What on earth are you doing here?"
"Meeting with a client," he replied smoothly, though I could feel the tension radiating through his body.
His voice carried just the right note of professional authority, but I could hear the strain underneath.
"Some cases require a more personal touch.
We're discussing some sensitive matters, so I chose somewhere discreet. "
"How mysterious. Anyone I know? It's just that you've been taking so many private meetings lately. And always in such intimate venues. Last week it was that little tea shop in Chelsea, now this cozy bistro. Hardly your usual style for business."
"Attorney-client privilege, I'm afraid."
I pressed my hand over my mouth to muffle my breathing, acutely aware that one wrong move, one sound, would expose everything.
The cold marble floor was beginning to make my knees ache, but I didn't dare shift position.
"Well, I won't interrupt your mysterious business meeting," Daphne said, though something in her tone suggested she wasn't entirely convinced.
"Though I have to say, you've been quite the enigma lately, big brother.
All these private meetings and secret phone calls.
Mother's starting to think you're plotting something. "
"Mother always thinks I'm plotting something."
"True enough." There was a pause, and I could practically feel Daphne's analytical gaze sweeping the table. "You know, it's funny—I could have sworn I saw someone else sitting here when I walked in."
My blood turned to ice water.
Edward's grip on my hand tightened almost painfully.
"They went to the toilet," he said. "Should be back momentarily."
"Oh well, I should collect my order. The chef gets tetchy when pasta sits too long." Her footsteps began to move away, then stopped. "Edward? You're not in any trouble, are you? You've seemed different lately. Distracted."
"Just work pressures."
"Right. Well, try not to work yourself to death. I'd hate to have to find a new favorite brother."
Only when I heard the restaurant door chime again did I dare to breathe properly. Edward's hand was still gripping mine under the table, both of us frozen in place for several long moments before he finally gave the all-clear.
"She's gone," he whispered.
I crawled out from under the table with as much dignity as I could muster, which wasn't much considering my hair was disheveled and my dress had ridden up.
Several other diners were staring with expressions ranging from amusement to scandal. As I smoothed down my skirt, I caught sight of myself in the restaurant's mirror—disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, the look of someone who'd been caught doing something she shouldn't.
Is this who I'd become? Someone who hid under tables and lied to friends?
"Well," I said, smoothing down my skirt, "that was mortifying."
"Are you all right?"
"Aside from my bruised pride? Fine." I sank back into my chair, my hands still shaking slightly. "Edward, this is getting ridiculous. We can't keep hiding under furniture every time a family member appears."
"I know." He ran a hand through his hair, disrupting his usually perfect styling. "But what's the alternative? Tell everyone about us before I've secured your position? Risk Mother finding another way to destroy what we're building?"
I wanted to argue, but I knew he was right. Still, the constant vigilance was wearing on both of us.
Every public appearance required strategic planning, every conversation was carefully monitored for slips, every touch had to be weighed against the risk of discovery.
"How long do you think we can keep this up?" I asked.
"Not much longer," he admitted. "James knows what exactly is going on , and now Daphne's asking questions. Soon, someone's going to put the pieces together."
As if summoned by our conversation, his phone buzzed with a text message. Edward glanced at it and frowned.
"James wants to meet tonight. Says it's urgent."
"About us?"
"I don't know. But his timing is concerning."
The walk back to the manor felt like a march to the gallows. Every shadow seemed to hide watching eyes, and every casual greeting from staff or family members felt loaded with hidden meaning.
By the time we reached the estate grounds, my nerves were stretched tighter than piano wire.
"I should go in first," Edward said as we approached the main entrance. "Wait five minutes, then follow. Use the garden entrance."
I nodded, though the secrecy was beginning to feel suffocating. As I watched him disappear into the house, I wondered how long we could maintain this elaborate dance before something gave way.
I was making my way toward the garden entrance when I heard voices coming from the direction of the old stables. Curious—and perhaps hoping for a few more minutes before facing the house's watchful atmosphere—I followed the sound.
What I saw made me stop dead in my tracks, my hand flying to my mouth to stifle a gasp.
Of all the secrets I might have stumbled upon, this one felt like a slap across the face. The irony was so sharp it could cut glass.
Daphne stood in the shadowed doorway of the renovated stable building, but she wasn't alone.
James was with her, and they were locked in an embrace that was decidedly not platonic.
Their bodies were pressed together with desperate urgency, and when they broke apart, the look that passed between them was charged with intimacy I'd never witnessed between them before.
Well, butter my biscuit.
"I can't keep doing this," Daphne was saying, her voice carrying clearly in the evening air. "The lying, the sneaking around—it's destroying me."
"I know, love," James replied, his usually composed demeanor completely abandoned. "But you know what will happen if Edward finds out. If your Mother discovers what we've been doing..."
"She'll destroy us both."
"What if Edward's already suspicious?" Daphne whispered. "He's been asking so many questions lately, and Mother keeps making those pointed comments about my social calendar."
"Then we'll deal with it when the time comes," James replied. "But for now, we stick to the plan."
"Exactly. So we wait, like we agreed. Until the timing is right."
"When will that be? When will we finally be able to stop pretending we are just friends?"
James pulled her close again, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Soon, I promise. Once this acquisition business is settled and things calm down, we'll find a way to tell everyone."
I backed away slowly, my mind reeling.
The pieces began clicking together with sickening clarity. Daphne's insistence on pushing Edward and me together, her mysterious absences, the way she'd been so understanding about my "restless nights." Had she been using our situation as cover for her own secret meetings?
Daphne and James. Secret meetings. Hidden relationships. The irony would have been amusing if it wasn't so shocking—here I was, sneaking around with Edward while his sister was conducting her own clandestine affair with his best friend.
But there was something else, something that made my stomach clench with unease. If Daphne had been hiding her own relationship, why had she been so insistent on pushing Edward and me together? What was her real motivation?
I made it back to the staff quarter in a daze, slipping through the garden entrance as planned. But instead of feeling relief at avoiding detection, I felt overwhelmed by the web of deception that seemed to entangle everyone in this family.
My phone buzzed with a text from Cece:
Cece: Dinner tomorrow? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages.
I stared at the message, realizing she was right. The message made my chest tight with guilt. Cece had been nothing but supportive since I'd arrived in England, and I'd been repaying her friendship with lies and excuses.
How many people was I willing to hurt to protect this secret? In the weeks since Edward and I had begun our secret relationship, I'd been pulling away from everyone else, making excuses, canceling plans. The isolation was another price of our secrecy.
Before I could respond, another text came through, this one from an unknown number:
Unknown: Miss Anderton, there have been developments regarding your position that require immediate discussion. Please call my private line at your earliest convenience. Time sensitive. - M. Pemberton
Lord have mercy. My blood ran cold. Malcolm Pemberton, Edward's senior partner, wanting to discuss my employment situation. This couldn't be good.
I was still staring at the message when my phone rang. Edward's name flashed on the screen.
"Lili, where are you?"
"Just got inside. Edward, I received a strange text from—"
"Not over the phone," he said quickly. "Meet me in the library in ten minutes. And Lili? Be careful who you talk to. I think someone's been watching us. James asked some very specific questions tonight, and Mother made a comment about my dining habits. We need to be more careful than ever."
The line went dead, leaving me standing in the hallway with my heart pounding. Between Daphne's secret affair, Malcolm's ominous message, and Edward's warning about being watched, it felt like the carefully constructed house of cards we'd been building was about to come crashing down.
Somewhere in the house, a door slammed with unusual force. Raised voices carried down the corridor—too muffled to make out words, but the tone was unmistakably tense. Whatever confrontation was happening, it felt like the first domino falling in a chain reaction none of us would be able to stop.
As I made my way toward the library, I couldn't shake the feeling that tonight would change everything. The question was whether the truth, when it finally came out, would set us free or destroy us all.
From somewhere in the house, I could hear voices—muffled conversations, urgent phone calls, the sound of people keeping secrets.
As I stood in the hallway, I realized the manor had become a house of mirrors—everyone reflecting back carefully constructed versions of themselves while hiding their true desires.
Edward and I weren't the only ones living a lie. We were just the latest players in a game that had been going on much longer than either of us had realized.
And I was beginning to wonder if any of us really knew who we could trust.